The sun's rays are filtered by the clouds this morning, unlike most days. Will the rains come to today? Probably not. The persistence of sun will claim the day. I feel the change as I write each new word. Yesterday was a time for me of a crystalization of many separate events of days past. The defining moment occurred in the morning during the taxi ride to Nahallin Village. I saw transactions between business people of Husan village and their orthodox customers from Beitar Elit. I was shocked. Signs written in Hebrew appeared all along streets for services, for vegetables and materials. Where are the walls to separate these people? There are none. No doubt this is mutual economic dependency at its best, but also there is the possibility of personal relationships. Hmmm? I am sure there must be some. (I returned several days later to capture those moments with my camera. More later.)
A friend suggested that I might be interested in seeing also the villages of Tocoa and the settlement of Tocoa. Said, our young friend and guide, organized a trip with a driver. He and his brother Assed, took us to the Wadi Quelt last year for a barbecue at the bottom of a steep canyon in the biblical wilderness area. Today, we headed south east of Bethlehem this time, after first meeting with Jamal, the police chief of Bethlehem who is from Beit Fajarr, the village whose mosque was set fire by villager a few weeks ago.
There are three players in the area of Tocoa, the birthplace of Amos, the village of Tocoa, the settlement by the same name and Nocodim where Liebermann lives. While there are some business transactions between the settlers and the village people because of the needs the Israelis have for services, the degree to which there is interaction is not so high as in Husan. Still we were stopped short of entering Nocodim, so as not to get the driver and Said in trouble, but instead, viewed the kibbutz from a distant hill top. Liebermann' residence stands out and above the rest with its distinctive red roof tiles.
Several boys surround me while I was taking pictures. Like all children I encounter, they clearly wanted to see themselves. I felt a little suspicious about those behind me, but I think it was just because I was a novelty more than they having a motive to intrude in my space. We then meandered south past the settlement through the village of Tocoa and further to the Bedowin lands on the edge of the barren wilderness. The view from there to the East and the backdrop of the Dead Sea, Jordanian mountains some distance away, was amazingly serene and quiet. We paused a moment, but long enough to capture a few pictures of the government-built small, block houses. The Bedowins refused to live in them. Why should they, when the wilderness provided them with a habitat that accommodated their nomatic life.
As the sun began to draw down, we drove back to Said's house and to the home next door that he and his family are building for the future, little by little. The solid concrete unfinished structure with its iron rods sticking up skyward, offers another wonderful view of the wilderness from its third story deck. Such a prospect also offers a symbol of hope for the days ahead. Said announced also that he had obtained a Jordanian passport and had plans to apply to be a physical trainer for the Arab Emirate Army. He also has a back-up plan to study Russian and improve his marketability as a guide here. He had applied to take a test to get his certificate after spending many thousands of dollars in tuition, but the exam was limited by the Israelis to just a few older guides, thereby controlling the number of guides available, mostly Jewish. Young men have a difficult journey to travel in pursuit of careers under the occupation, in addition to all the other constraints on their freedoms.
The day ended with a meal at Said's brother's house with a modified Macluba meal. IT was wonderful. We also met Said's parents who are really sweet, gentle people of the desert.
At night, I met at the local establishment with a few friends and Hosam Gibran who coordinates the Palestinian olive oil trade program at Bethelehem University. They train thee farmers in all aspects of olive oil business. Unlike the Palstinian Fair trade Association which is a business model, who retain 10% of the Harvest in exchange for administrative services. Basam got his masters from the Eastern Mennonite University in Harrisonburg Va. We talked for acouple of hours around his water pipe, and me a glass of wine, about the non-violence movement in Palestine. Bassam spent 15 years of his life in Israeli prisons from the time he was 17. In recent times, young Palestinians could receive such a sentence for merely drawing a Palestinian flag on their notebooks.
Hosam works with a number programs including work with the empowerment of women. He believes that such work is not about changing the role of women, but about changing values and attitudes. He said, his goal is not to produce the next female president or prepare women for leadership roles. While respecting the work of Gandhi and King, he prefered to define his approach which is Palestinian in nature. I asked him if he was actively engaged in a non-violent efforts and he laughed and said, "I'm tired and also disappointed in the present effort. I also spent several years in prison and lacke the resolve." He feels that the efforts today are not focused on the institionalized aspects of the occupation. For example he asked why aren't 1,000 Palestinians, each day attempting to take down small pieces of the wall? The spirit of direct action seems to be on hold at the moment. The Israelis have successful suppressing parts of the Palestinians community to the point that many are concerned about their own survival.
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