By Susan Moskwa

1. An average day can be pretty average.

Look, Stars & Bucks cafe—just like in the US!

When I told my husband I wanted to go to Palestine, he was taken aback; we had to consult the US State Department website (to see if there were any travel warnings) before discussing it further. In the US we hear about Palestine as a place that launches rockets at Israel; as a place where civilians are killed by Israeli soldiers; as a place where such deaths are acceptable collateral damage considering how dangerous it is and how dangerous the “terrorists” are that the Israeli government is fighting. Our images of Palestine are of civilians throwing rocks at tanks, of bombed-out buildings, of parents crying over their children’s bodies. No wonder my husband feared for my safety; many of my co-travelers got similar reactions from their friends and family.

But our trip so far has felt pretty normal. We drive around and walk in the streets and have coffee and talk with people. We’ve seen students hanging out on campus and kids playing in sports tournaments. I don’t feel in danger of pickpocketing, the way I do in some major European cities. Sometimes the street vendors can be pushy, telling you that selling trinkets to tourists is their only means of supporting their family (which could certainly be true; the West Bank, where we’ve stayed so far, has >25% unemployment). But mostly it just feels like visiting another country. I don’t feel in danger in the least.

2. An average day can be pretty terrible.

Names of Palestinian children killed by Israelis in July 2014

Palestinians live with daily realities that are unimaginable for most Americans. Those who live in the West Bank can’t leave it without a permit; the process of getting a permit can be long, difficult, and you often get denied with no reason given. Imagine not being able to visit your family regularly, or meet with business colleagues who live outside your neighborhood, or go on vacation whenever you want to. There’s also a lot of bureaucracy; there are over 100 different types of permits, and you have to apply for the right one. In his book Bethlehem Besieged, Mitri Raheb recounts how his father-in-law had a heart attack and was in an ambulance on its way to a hospital in Jerusalem (just outside the West Bank). As a businessman, he had a permit for traveling outside the West Bank; but an Israeli soldier at the checkpoint turned him away (in an ambulance) because at that particular moment he was traveling as a patient, not a businessman, and he was told to go back and apply for a medical permit. He died several days later as a result of not receiving medical treatment in time.

In many areas Palestinians are not allowed to have electricity or running water in their homes. They’re not allowed to build anything on their own land. In the Aida refugee camp, Israeli soldiers raid the camp regularly (often early in the morning or at night), spraying tear gas and skunk water and searching people’s homes. Imagine not being able to get a full night’s sleep without gunfire outside your door or soldiers in your house… not just one night, but nearly every night. These are just a few of the stories we’ve heard. There are hundreds more, all told with a touch of resignation and banality, as though they are the norm rather than the exception.

3. There are camels here.

Did you know that!? Somehow I only pictured camels in, like, the middle of a giant desert in Egypt or Saudi Arabia. Yesterday we drove past a butcher shop with an entire camel carcass hanging outside on a hook. Sadly I couldn’t whip out my camera in time, but Rick Steves has a photo if you want to see one.

4. The Wall is a Big Deal.

Israeli separation wall near Aida refugee camp

Israel is building a giant Berlin wall around the West Bank. It’s >60% completed; the final cost will be close to $3.8 billion US dollars. (Imagine what a difference it would make if they instead used that money to provide water, medical care, or services to the occupied Palestinian territories.) Americans, this is your tax dollars at work: the US gives Israel $3 billion in aid every year. Without our financial support, the calculations for whether and how much they could afford to invest in such a project would look quite different.

>90% of the Wall is built on Palestinian/West Bank land, leading many Palestinians to believe that it’s another mechanism for appropriating Palestinian land rather than just a security measure. It’s especially likely to scoop out valuable agricultural land, natural aquifers, or culturally valuable sites like Rachel’s Tomb. Many people we’ve met here talk about “facts on the ground”: it doesn’t matter how many international accords Israel has signed, or whether the US or the UN has denounced this-or-that activity, if there’s a 20 foot wall between you and where you want to go. The Wall cuts families and villages in half and its construction continues while we (the international community) try to broker peace talk after peace talk.

Israeli separation wall near Aida refugee camp

Today we heard about four brothers who built a house together for all their families to share. By completion they’d put more than $2 million dollars into it. But Israel built the Wall around it, and the family had to decide whether to give up their house or give up their ability to leave the West Bank at will (they lived in a part of Jerusalem where they were allowed to travel without worrying about permits, but their house had been walled into the travel-restricted West Bank). In the end they gave up the house, because freedom is more valuable.

5. Palestinians are more than just victims.

We refuse to be enemies. Daoud Nassar, The Tent of Nations

As I said, before this week the word “Palestine” brought to mind damaged buildings, wailing mothers, children throwing stones—images of a disempowered people, waiting for a peace process to restore some of their dignity. But we’ve met Palestinians here who have chosen not to let the Israeli occupation define them, even while it continues to impact them. They, too, are creating “facts on the ground”: making life better for themselves and their neighbors in whatever ways are available to them. Groups like Alrowwad, the Diyar Consortium, and Tent of Nations use art, theater, music and dance to give children a creative outlet and teach positive self-expression rather than reactionaryism. Bethlehem Bible College and Dar al-Kalima have created university-level degree programs to help Palestinians get higher education without having to leave the West Bank (even if they’re accepted into a university, not everyone can get a permit to leave the West Bank to attend said university; those that do don’t always come back once they’ve had a taste of life without occupation). Instead of giving up, some people solve problems in creative ways: Israel doesn’t allow the Nassar family (at Tent of Nations) to have electricity or running water on their property, so they use solar power and waterless composting toilets.

“We don’t have the luxury of despair, but the steadfast hope that we can make a change for our children and the generations to come that we can be proud of.”
Abdelfattah Abusrour, Director of Alrowwad

“We refuse to be victims; we refuse to be enemies.”
Daoud Nassar, Tent of Nations