Many Grieve the Loss of Scott Kennedy, Peace Educator, Friend

It is with a deep sense of loss that I add the final blog for this tour. Scott Kennedy, one of the co-leaders on my first trip to Israel/Palestine in 2006 with Interfaith Peacebuilders, died in his sleep in Santa Cruz, CA next to his wife Kris on November 19th. It was just one week after returning from his 39th trip there, and the last of many delegations which he has led since 1975.

My last contact with Scott was in the lobby of the Paradise Hotel in Bethlehem. He had been absent from a presentation by Daoud Nassar on the Tent of Nations Project which the delegation had visited the previous week. Scott, in his wonderful manner said, "Well how did it go?" "Great as always!" I responded. And he said, "He always does a great job." And so it was, always encouraging us, ever supportive of what we were doing. That was Scott's way. If it hadn't been for IFPB and his leadership, our work would not likely have ever happened. He also served on the Advisory Council of Friends of Tent of Nations North America, one of many formal associations he belonged to.

I remember one event early on during my first delegation with him in 2006. It was the end of the tour, and we were to return to the States the next day as a delegation. I had extended my stay in order to travel and visit friends in Beit Jala. He asked me late at night if I wanted to travel to Gaza the next day with him on an official tour sponsored by Hamas. It was a tempting offer, but I had to think about it over night as such a trip, considered dangerous by some State Department officials at the time, was not part of the bargain with my wife prior to coming on the delegation. While I was certain Kay would support such an opportunity, I wasn't sure I should do so without checking with her. After all, there were some risks, but not the kind the State Department regularly raises in it's official capacity as arbitrator of safety. After much prayer and reflection, during the night, I decided to join Scott.

In the morning I indicated to Scott that I would be willing to accompany him on the trip. He seemed relieved that I would join him, and indicated he would get back with me later in the morning. As it turned out, the Israelis denied my entry on such short notice, and I didn't travel with Scot. As he later revealed, it was an incredible visit, and a rare inside look of the work of Hamas. He and I always regretted that the joint trip never occurred. It is a memory of the invitation that I shall carry for the rest of my life.

His loss will be felt by many who also considered him a friend.

May his family rest assured that Scott holds a special place in all our hearts this day. May his hope for a just peace become a reality. May we not rest until it is so. Bp

Co-existence:The Kibbutz and Village Revisited

 
I returned to the Kibbutz Metzer by car with Dov Avital, the community's former general secretary, marking four years since I last visited there and promptly wrote the article on the co-existence between the Kibbutz and neighboring village of Maiser. As we passed through the electronic gate and through the entrance, there are on the left, is a large, open-air building that houses 300 milking cows. You know already that this is a unique place.

For those who haven't followed the blog over the last 4 years, you must know that the Kibbutz was founded by 100 Argentinian emigres in 1953. The young socialists parked their Kibbutz on land right next to the village of Maiser, an Arab agricultural village and offered cooperation to their neighbors. They said to the Arabs, " We have little skills in farming but lots of energy and youth, and you are wiser more experienced with the land in this harsh conditions. The village elders agreed, and told their people “We know Arabs and Jews are suppose to fight, but let's see what we can do together, and if it doesn’t work then we can fight!"

The first task the Kibbutz encountered was to find a viable source of water. The Arab leaders offered "We have a small well, you are invited to use it".  The government also dug a larger well in the kibbutz, both sources of water were and are still interconnected. The kibbutz insisted that all other infrastructure developments brought to them by the government would be also enjoyed by Maiser. From there, a long history of co-existence began and continues to this day.

On this trip, I wanted to see more of the Kibbutz and its life there than I had on the first trip, nearly four years ago when I wrote an article for Christian Century Magazine on the story there. I wanted to know in what way Dov Avital, the then general secretary, had seen changes since he had been there and also what if any thing, had occurred since my visit. I wanted to know what keeps him there and what were his plans for the Kibbutz in the future. He thoughtfully responded to these questions by taking me on a tour of the cooperative and mentioned he was leaving his post at the Kibbutz to run for Mayor of the region where he could effectively deal with larger issues. He had my attention.

As you look out on the property from its highest point, you can see the Arab village of Maiser, just a few hundred yards away. In architecture, it differs greatly from most very plain Arab structures found on the West Bank, and looks more like the red tiled roof, and light yellow homes of Israeli settlements. What a contrast, I thought! 

You can also see the borders of the Country from one side to the other, as it is one of the narrowest pieces of the land of Israel. To the west are the coal fired furnaces that supply electricity to the region on the coast where coal is imported. East of there is the "green line" of the '67 borders. About a half of kilometer, further to the east, is the "fence" that separates the kibbutz from other neighboring Arab villages. Some of these villagers are also separated from their farm land. There is a slight possibility  as proposed by the Israeli Foreign Minister Liberman of a land swap where this land would be ceded to Palestine, and in exchange for some portions of the larger settlements such as Ariel. Dov doesn't feel that this would be possible as the Palestinians with Israeli citizenship would never accept such a deal, and as citizens they have a voice, even in Israel. There is also a large city being planned which the Kibbutz opposes and which would eventually subsume every entity around it.

In many ways, the socialist bound Kibbutz is a real democracy. All issues are discussed in small neighborhood forums, and major decisions are made as a community. There are joint decisions but people also have choices. All are promised a job, but not everyone has to work. Those who choose not, still share in the profits and receive basic services such as health and education but do not enjoy the subsidies the kibbutz grants to working and retired members . Kibbutzniks also can elect to work off the kibbutz, but donate their pay check to the community. Dov's wife is chief nurse in the nearby psychiatric hospital, and travels there each day.

Metzer also owns and operates together with its partners its own high school, There are 150 children in the Kibbutz and the younger ones attend school there, and go to the high school when they are of age. The high school, according to Dov, is one of the finest in Israel, and is cooperatively owned by three other Kibbutzim. Families outside the Kibbutz can also attend the school, but must pay for the tuition. The children of Arab citizens in the area could attend the high school if they wished, but generally they prefer to offer their language and cultural background in their own schools.

Homes are provided in simple form for members, while land ownership is kept by the kibbutz. If they decide to renovate or expand their homes, they can do so at their expense. When occupants eventually die, the home to go back to the Kibbutz, and the equity earned from the expansion efforts are passed on to the heirs. So, as you look around the tree-laden, scrub and flower covered community- irrigated by potable water from their own reservoir- you see both the simple buildings and the two storied modern structures spread through out. In short there is place for individuality and community.

The expansion of land area beyond present borders is no longer possible for the Kibbutz , but there are vacant lands within the 1200 acres that are undeveloped. There is a long waiting list of potential members, and plans are to begin building on these lands in the near future to accommodate new residents.

The Kibbutz has several sources of income. There is the dairy farm which produces high quality,low fat milk, and finds a ready market in Israel. There is also organic farming too that is nourished by gray water conversion on the Kibbutz. As you may know Israel is a master of sustainable water projects, and the Kibbutz has a factory which produces emitter inserts for plastic tubes which "clean" water for agricultural use. Though their operation is small in comparison with the larger producers in China and Germany, the Kibbutz is apparently the most sophisticated producer because of their design patents and high standards of quality control. As Dov said, "we are small so we have to be smarter". I watched some machinery, which the Kibbutz also sells, reject certain cylinders because of irregularities and shuts down the operation when the system discovers a problem. The whole department is completely run by robots and employs seven workers on two shifts. The factory employs about 140 workers, 40 of them kibbutz members and most of the others coming from nearby Arab communities.

There is a beautiful "football" field on the Kibbutz which is the practice field for the neighboring Arab children’s team, and also their home team space which they share with the Kibbutz. A restaurant located outside Metzer is a place where Arabs and Jews often bring their family and friends and dine together. Dov's intention is find new ways to improve and increase the co-existence with Arab neighbors which has flourished for more than 60 years. He feels this is the future for the two societies, but thinks first that the Palestinians must be freed from the occupation and put on their own before the land becomes a truly shared one. He also feels that Hamas is problematic.

There is also a community building which serves as the center for the Kibbutz and has a cafeteria and meeting space. Dov feels that the center is underused at the moment and new ways need to be found to heighten its use.

When I wrote about the Kibbutz much earlier in my five year journey, I told the story of long history of collaboration with its neighbors and about the incident in which a young woman and her two young children,were killed by a young Arab from the area of Tulkarem, and not from the local area. Two older members, one of them the then General secretary of the kibbutz. were also killed. The story received world wide attention. I also reported that Arabs from all the villages around attended "shiva" or days of mourning where by tradition, friends can offer condolences to the families who have lost love ones. The co-existence, though tested was not broken as seen when driving through the gates and seeing the village on the left beyond the Jersey cows. A memorial park for the deceased stands underneath several trees. It is constructed on the natural rock which lays a few inches beneath the grass surface, and water washes down from a small pond built there. Naturally water from occasional storm will pour down and disappears through the cracks produced from the persistence of water. The rocks represents the land which may change form but persists, and water keeps coming and flowing over it, which is the persistence of life. Their memories live on.

I left the Kibbutz after four hours thinking if I lived in the region, I might consider joining and teaching in the high school, and working in the restaurant as a folksinger and blues harpist. I also thought that my next trip might be to the Arab village for their story. I wonder what they might say? Would they have me ? Dov says, “Most definitely. I will arrange it.”
BP

Reflections on the 2011 Tour

On a whole, this trip as all I have travelled on, was unique and maybe the most satisfying of all. The highlights included:

Being with the Nassars of Bethlehem and on the farm, the Hallouns of Isfiye, the Awads of Beit Sohour and Jados of Ramallah

Traveling with the Interfaith Peacebuilders delegation and introducing friends to the Tent of Nations there on the Farm

Traveling to the Galilee and cycling a portion around the Sea

Witnessing and experiencing a new phase in the development of the Tent of Nations Project on the land with friends

Spending an afternoon on the Kibbutz Metzer with Dov Avital and hearing of hope for co-existence with his neighbors

Enjoying the relationships with the staff at the Grand Hotel in Bethlehem, meeting PCUSA staff and attending worship with
the Nassars at the Lutheran center, and spending time with my favorite little town- Bethlehem

Sharing the beautiful moon on the Farm with friends and new friends around the campfire.

The Stresses were few but present for me:

Going through the Checkpoint in Bethlehem and seeing the indignity once again Palestinians experience while feeling uncomfortable about the cordiality of the soldiers to an American with a passport

Contrasting the rich abundance and "relative freedom" between persons living in Israel and those living in the occupied territories

Traveling logistics of currency, sleeping space, food acquisition, bodily needs, cell phone maintenance, passport ID, camera care and not having a place as a base/having freedom to take advantages of new opportunities and new stories on the other hand

Possible themes:

"Playing the harp on the road to the Carmelite Monastery at Maraka"

"Contrasting life in Israel and in Palestine"

"Traveling along the way from Tiberius to Capernaum by Bicycle"

"Seeing the tip of the Iceberg of non-violent resistance to the occupation on the farm"

"The Arab and Israeli hospitality of strangers and families for the traveler"

"Pre occupation of the occupation"

"Friends 'seeing' for themselves and being changed by the experience forever"


I thank God, friends, my church community, my hosts and most of all my family
for support on this journey that continues to nurture each time I travel and to remind me of
the beauty of life in the midst of darkness.

bp

A Shared Journey with Friends

One of the major reasons for this most recent trip, in addition to the primary desire to show our support for the Tent of Nations Project, and more personally, support for Daoud and his family, was to share some time with friends with whom I have walked life's roads for many years: Todd and Paula Endo, and Bob and Pat Smythe as well as Bud Hensgen, a relatively new friend. They had decided that they had had enough of my story telling, poetry writing, arm twisting, and were going to seek the truth with their own "cameras". I declined on the opportunity to lead such a group, but offered to join them on an extended tour experience after they had traveled and seen themselves with other Interfaith Peacebuilders delegates, and some trusted leaders in that program who would provide them with a rich assortment of stories and narratives of people to hear. There were other new friends too. Some were back for a second trip and brought friends of their own to our "Middle Eastern house of Hospitality" in Arlington, just prior to their departure From the states.

As I often like to do, I "cherry picked" from the itinerary of IFPB and chose to connect with the friends at places where I either needed a ride via their tour bus to get to some destination of my own, or just a bed in one of their hotels on the tour where I could lay my head. So sprinkled throughout their 12-day intense encounter with activists on all sides of the fence, a brief visit and "peaked in". I could almost see the mirror of my own experience as I emerged amidst them two to three times. They were still weary from the travel, some feeling sick from a virus or new food, and others just overwhelmed by the enormous amount of stimuli they were receiving both in the visual form of the landscape of occupation, and the narratives of the sojourners there. With mouths agape, eyes tired, but alarmed, and bodies and bags scattered, they moved on in constant rhythm of the drone of the bus engine and shouts of "Yalla, Yalla" of their guides and leaders. I know, I had been there.

I noticed in the beginning, that beneath the caffein-driven days, the jet-lagged bodies, and the sleep deprived faces, there was great confusion about what they were experiencing, Then, at midway, questions and observations emerged about the incredible reality they were encountering for the first time, and about a political situation that seemed intractable. As the formal tour ended, and they could "smell the barn door" with questions that began to emerge like "what can I do, who do I speak to, what is my story?"

At that point, my five friends, joined by two additional travelers for a part of the time met in the lobby of the Paradise Hotel in Bethlehem where their formal tour ended, and a three day extension would begin. After leaving behind the baggage of both their tour, and carrying only the necessary clothes for a few days on the Nassar Family farm, we began the the long walk through the "old city" of Bethlehem to the Manger Square and the Church of Nativity on Star Street which got its name from the traditional belief that this would have been the path from Jerusalem of the WIse Men as they searched for the "babe".

I had arranged a few experiences for the tour that might compliment their formal experience but not add to their fatigue. There was no more room for new information, and I could see it still in their faces. So, we tried to strike a balance with where they were emotionally, and physically, but still leave them satisfied with their decision to extend their days with us. I think they felt three days later that it had been worthwhile. In Bethlehem, I proposed meeting a wood carver friend, off of Manager Square, getting a brief tour of the Lutheran Center and having a nice lunch on the balcony dining room there before heading off to the farm and time with Daoud who had just returned from his tour in the States.

On formal IFPB tour when the whole delegation, including my friends arrived at the Nassar Family Farm/Tent of Nations, Daoud asked me to tell the family story, the recent struggles to hold on to their land in a non-violent way, and about the constraints of the Israeli occupation. It was an opportunity for me to put myself in Daoud's shoes and explain to others what it was that was that is so special when you visit this space where more than 8,000 visitors and volunteers had come to work or see in the past two years. I could see after the half hour, that my effort to tell the story had an impact on many members of the group, and they could visually see both the resistance to the occupation in the construction of caves - in defiance of restrictions- and the reality of "facts on the ground" - in the encirclement of settlements. They got it! Like me, they would never be the same.

So once we took the taxi to the farm through the backroads and villages as the family was now forced to do because of the road barricades from the Hebron highway, they began to understand the occupation in a new way, and the stated as such with such remarks as how steep the hills were, how trashy the roadsides seemed, and how uncomfortable the roads were. This way had taken them nearly three times that time it had taken them on the delegation route. We returned to the farm and were met at the gate by the heart-filled welcome of Daoud's older brother, Daher, we were home! The air seemed sweeter here.

I had invited several people to join us during the next three days, but all of them canceled at the last minute because of other
commitments or unanticipated events. They were are former soldier from the IDF, a staff worker from Mossawa, a Palestinian Advocacy group for "Palestinians with Israeli citizenship, a friend, newly appointed Ambassador for the Palestinian Authority, and an Israeli eco-horticulturalist. I thought their informal presence on the land would provide yet another perspective on what my friends had seen, and an opportunity for the visitors who would "see" this farm and the project for what i might mean to them in their work. Closing that loop didn't happen. I strongly believe that after you have done your best to make things work, it's all you really can do. I also believe the difficulities my guests all faced were yet another element of the occupation which makes life that much harder. Besides, I think the travelers just needed space, and what better way to do so than to just "hang out and chill" in space which I have found spiritual and calming in a sea of storms. I think they found it too.

The deeper looks at the strategies of nonviolent resistance, the full moonlit night around the campfire-singing with other international volunteers, visitors and family members, the "down time" to rest, write and reflect, all contributed to a
peaceful interlude before heading home three days later.

I really enjoyed being with my friends in a place I had found only not great purpose, but an atmosphere of hope, in a world perceived as full of darkness at times. The 100 acres has even more recently become for me, more than a farm, more than a beautiful family, more than a place where people can encounter one another, but also a place where the spirit of non-violence springs forth around what now is a global feeling of the need to change they way we know each other. This project will not end the occupation, but does remind us that journey toward obtaining the human dignity for us all is a road worth traveling , including my friends here. Bp

Biking around the Sea of Galilee

After a very intense week, I took a break in the action with a strong urge for a different type of venture, one of ADventure. Two weeks ago, I awoke with the idea of renting a bike and riding around the Sea of Galilee. I had heard about the possibility from fellow travelers last year, and decided to DO IT! After all, that kind of spontaneous inspiration is to be listened to. It's for certain to be memorable, and it was. As I tell my grandsons, importance to have adventures in your life, especially if they are shared ones.

Walking many miles each day, and sitting many hours listening to people's stories, requires another outlet for me, often a space to process the enormous amount of information that one receives on such a trip. For most of my life I have ridden my bike as a way to find balance. My friend Larry can affirm that belief. Besides riding a bike is less stressful on certain parts of the body and requires another set of muscles than those used for walking hills, of which there are many here.

I had done some background reading before the trip, so I knew kind of what to expect. There is nothing like reality to inform opinion, though. My goal was to do the whole circuit, about 40 miles or 5-6 hrs. of riding. I reflected upon recent experiences in Cape Breten, Nova Scotia, and concluded that was doable. I hadn't contemplated what that might mean in the desert. I went through 32 MLS in the first two hours! Good thing I brought an extra 16 ounces and back up.

I arrived in late morning from Nazareth by bus, found my hotel near the bus station, and quickly located the nearest bike shop with help from hotel staff,and off I went
to make the arrangements. I could have the bike for the day at a cost of 70 NS or about $20. I was ready. Then they brought the bike, a clunky muddy mountain bike which was far from what I was used to. I asked if there were a lighter weight road bike, and the renter said that the tires were thinner on those and more vulnerable to flats. Besides. the mountain bike would enable me to go off the road. After saying that they would fix the flat on a call, but would have to charge if I didn't make it all the way, my anxiety level hightened. With those encouraging words, I headed off with five hours of remaining sunlight and a tad bit of doubt in my mind.

Soon into my ride, and the steep hills which was described in the blogs, I soon wondered if I could even do half the trip. I limited my goals by the mile as I looked ahead at the hills, and the various places to visit, off in the distant, and unmeasurable haze. The scenery was fabulous and after distancing the city, the solo ride became more tranquilizing, and energizing as I pedaled the hills. I passed a few Israel Agricultural Kibbutzes(sp) with large fields of bananas. Feeling the need for potassium and free and abundant fruit, I stuffed myself with these tasty fruits and thanked the farmers, wherever they were, for their work. I must admit, I felt slightly guilty to eat the fruit - where does that come from biblically? hmmm.

Into my third hour,I realized that finishing the whole trip was not going to be possible, given the gauge of my reserves, and the Jordanian peaks on the other side. I decided to try to get to the ancient city of Capurnium, before heading back. I wasn't certain I could even get that far. I was a little concerned that I had overshot my own capabilities. Onward to the "city of Jesus"!

I passed Tabba, the Mount of Beatitudes on my right, and finally the ancient city itself. I had made it! In the stretch between the place were Jesus is said to have broken bread and where he preached, I discovered a tiled bike path, away from the traffic, and the endless line of tourist buses. There were two small benches overlooking the Sea. At the first one, I pulled out my "harp" and played a few pieces that provided a connection of the Spirit that I have never found at the stone monuments erected by church groups over time. These pauses were worth the whole adventure, and provided fuel needed to return to Tiberius and a fading sunset. The desert gets cold in the evenings, but I was feeling the warmth from such an experience, that only such rides on the bike provide me.

When I arrived back at the bike rental, I felt a certain sense of satisfaction of the ride which overwhelmed any initial disappointment I might have had in not completing the whole circuit. I was really pleased after telling the owner about how far I traveled,and he said, "you did the hardest part of the trip. The rest is fairly flat and the tail wind would help you." I said to myself, "the summit is in the climb". No importa! I returned home now fully satisfied with the experience, and appreciative of my safety- a concern of my family and friends I know. B-

Arab hospitality and human kindness

My mother often said in her "teaching" that "we can always be kind". That was an important value for me, and one, that on occasion comes to the surface in my daily life. Not that I am always kind, but that there is always an opportunity to be so. The time with the Halloun family was special in that way, as the host treated the guest with kindness and celebration. While for some, Communicating in English was a problem for me. Most of the adults speak Arabic, Hebrew and basic English, at least the adult children did. Someone was always available for interpretation when communication was difficult.

In addition to traditional meals of of Magluba on the first day, with its abundance and special tradition of serving such food on rare occasions there was practice of the hosts pouring food on my plate when there was the least bit of possibility of it being empty. We laughed about that often during the meal. When it was not Labbita, the mother, it was her daughters Mona and Irene scooping the chicken, rice and vegetables on the plate. We talked much about their lives as Palestinians with Israeli citizenship,a description not used by most Israelis, however. They had a fairly good life, even as a minority in a Druze Village. All the chilren were enrolled in the University, or had completed their degree, as Fakhira had. The family was core of their life together, as seen in houses, around, near and above Elias's home. As a Municipal government worker he had had risen to a high administrative post in the Water and Electricity Board.

I was given the daughter's room (Fakhira) and friend in the States, with an incredible view of the valley, and a balcony to enjoy the morning sun as it stretched over the valley below. I slept well, but as has been the practice, I rose at about 5:00 to answer emails and do some writing.

The family invited me to join the mother's weekly pilgrimage of 4 kms. to the monastery of Maruka, where a priest would lead mass. Of the family, only Labbiba
and I sat in worship. It was a beautiful sanctuary, and Fakhira's cousin, Leah read the morning scripture as well as the singing. She is also the music teacher of niece Noel, who has a voice of velvet. The family has great hopes for her success, and with good reason. She sang one of Celina's songs of hope in English and did it beautifully.

After the chapel emptied, with only one couple remaining in the back, I couldn't refuse the opportunity to continue worship with a few pieces on my harp. The sound resonated nicely, as it can in such a stone venue, and the feedback from them is inspiring for my play. (often much better than I sound) After I finished a rendition of "Sanctuary" and "Font of Blessing", I heard this voice from the back say, "Please play some more". And so I did. IT was a special connection with other fellow worshipers. We all left satisfied that God was truly in this place.

We didn't walk home, but arrived in time for the finishing touches on Meniche, a very
special of various types of Pizza. Labbita had been preparing the dough when I saw her at 5:30 that morning. IT was delicious, and graciously served as always. That evening, as had been the case with the father, Elias, who had driven me around all of Haifa, and as well, stopped for a beer and chips by the sea; Irene also took me to places such as where the fire which raised havoc a year ago, devastated the region of Israel and killed 47 people on a bus from the prison, caught by the fire. Like the people of the land, the vegetation was rebounding, but the effect of the blaze was still evident as far as the eye could see. Fortunately,the wind was a land breeze and blew to less inhabited spaces. Irene took me to her home which was just a short distance from the fire which raged away from her home, fortunately, to the sea.

There was an abundance of food, love and laughter during my time there and there were always family there, including the children of Carmel, the son and husband of Areena. The two year old Elias, grandson of Elias and inseparable from one another, often came by for a handshake. I so wish I had brought the book, "I love you forever". The kids would have loved it and connected me with the older children, Karena, Katy, and Noel more quickly. Still, they were fun and in spite of the language barrier, were able to communicate together with my limited knowledge of Arabic, and their words they had learned in school. There are lots of ways to communicate without words. The family did that well. And then, there were aunts and uncles that dropped by to share the welcome. While they were hospitable, they always suggested that I take a nap in the mid afternoons. I suspect they needed the break from me, as I needed to catch up on limited sleep. At the end of the day, Elias drove me an hour's distance to the hotel which presented challenges to Elias. Labbita also accompanied us.

And like in the biblical stories of their past, and after dinner, I was presented with a gift, a bright red sweater! That gesture was over the top for me. I quickly put it on. You see, it was another act of kindness.

Journey to Haifa

As I said bye to the IFPB delegation friends this morning, I prepared to pack once again and find my way to Haifa somehow. While I had the invitation to stay with a friend's family there as back up, and knew that I wouldn't be out on the street, it was a bit stressful negotiating the route without the benefit of the language. But in fact, I actually liked the challenge. Most people were gracious and if they didn't know English, they pointed me to someone who did. There was always a few who seemed brusque, but that may have been my interpretation, rather than their demeaner. Still the challenge of hailing a cab, and not knowing how much it might cost, nor where exactly I was going; finding a cellphone card for Israeli space, and learning how to toggle my way through the phone calling directions, via the Hebrew recording on the other end of the line; interpreting the bus ticket for location of the bus and time of departure; arriving in a downpour and a river of water coming down from the steep hill, with two backpacks, and trusting that the cab driver, who spoke no English, would take me to an inexpensive hotel for the night, was a leap of faith, or foolish fantasy. I sit here now feeling pretty fortunate (perhaps gloating a bit)to have made it through the gauntlet of a new culture using just two words; "Shalom"and "Toda" and a look of despair, I might add.

Why isn't life that simple all the time?

On a five-hour walk to the top of the city, and around its market place, I had this realization that God really was drawing me close to something special. The city experience though, was a dramatic contrast to the much more restrictive life of the occupied West Bank from which I had just left. I can see why folks both live in fear, and feel removed here from the daily pain of the occupation. Fearful, not because of what they know, but what they don't know and what they DO see. They do NOT see because the "walls,lines,fences and borders" are barriers to seeing and feeling. What they fear, though manufactured I believe, is reflected in the presence of a security guard and detection machine at nearly every entrance to a store, supermarket, restaurant and pubic,or private building. Even the children's playgrounds have security person hanging out in the swing sets. What a price this separation and fear of the unknown. I had more fear of crossing at the stop lights even with a signal "to walk", after a near miss by someone driving through the traffic light. (the elderly couple ahead of me were panicked and rightfully so)

At last night's debrief with the Interfaith Peace Builders delegation on the day of harvesting olives on the farm, and walking the streets of the Deheshia Refugee Camp, I was asked a lot questions, unexpectedly. I had intended on sitting outside the group and listening to their reflections as an interested third party. They invited me of course to join them. On further consideration, I should have have remained physically outside the group as I did tend to soak up some of the time that others might have used. The leader rightly called me on it, and said, "And it's all about you Bill".

When I thought about it some more on my walk this evening, I thought what I should have said was, "and it is. And it is about you Scott...and Lisa, Melinda, Maya, John, Andy, Allie, Elaine, Catina, Ursala, Mark, Bob, Pat, Paula, Todd, Jo Cathleen, Wayne, Brad, Sandie, Bud and Jean. For that is what is special about the journey I rediscovered last week and what Daoud spoke about last week at our meeting. It is about catching the spirit of goodness out there. It is about harnessing all of our collective energy, and not that of just one individual. BP

Travel to Tent of Nations

Today was a glorius day. I traveled out early to the farm, some 17 Kms. south of Bethlehem and met Amal running up the hill to catch the service to Bethlehem for her job as a child physical therapist. It was good to see her, if only for a moment. As I descended down the hill from highway 60 on the dirt road to the farm, I could only wonder how long it would be before that road would be off limits to travelers by both Palestinians and internationals. I could see the two baracades ahead of me, and the farm with it's distinctive out buildings and green trees. As I approached the first baricade, I could see fresh boulders covering the existing ones. I learned later by Daher that an Israeli front end loader had dumped them just yesterday - endless harrassment.

Daher, Daoud's older brother met me at the gate with his usual warm welcome and enthusiastic spirit. The same wonderful greeting would be extended to the two visiting groups, one from Holland, and the other, our IFPB group. After reviewing the plan for the morning, consisting of an orientation I provided in one of the caves, Daher was to come and greet the group officially as the host. The group was observant and had shared their questions and assumptions about what they had seen. I then set the stage with information about the 100 year struggle with the Israeli authorities in a fairly detailed manner, so as to leave the impression that what was required of the family over time, was a strong dedication to their land, and peristence in spite of difficulties,and a vision for the future. I believe they got the message.

Some had traveled to the farm before, and nearly half the group had heard about the family and the project, mostly from us as there were several friends traveling for the first on our invitation, and others had either stayed with Kay and I on a previous delegation or had heard Daoud speak at one of the tour events in the States.

Following the orientation we did a brief walking tour of the place. Daher was leading the other group so we were not able to look at the generators and solar cells. We got started on the harvesting of olives, and everyone eagerly joined in. Soon the place was abuz and the trees were soon bare. I think it was the first time the delegates had had some time to talk informally since they had gotten together three days before. I took advantage of the time to go from tree to tree and learn a little more about each of them which was both fun, and enlighening as they shared their reasons for going. IFPB tours continue to attract some really unique individuals. All are highly motivated to learn, and many expressed surprise at the impact of the occupation on Palestinians and on Israelis. Tthey like many before, "Never Knew". The harvesting was followed by a healthy lunch on the veranda provided by the new cook, Helva, a modest and warm person, dessed in her native village dress.

The conversations on the walk back to the bus,and on the ride to the Deheshe camp, as well as into the night, were about the amazing persistence of the famiy in spite
of the oppressive measures they faced each day. My friends who were on the trip and had heard me describe the project endlessly, said they had no idea to what degree this place was so special. They had finally seen it for themselves, and were discovering on their own how powerful the spirit was around them. I believe it is that spirit that we are trying to capture and share with the many people who have joined this movement from Europe and the U.S. It's contagious! It's authentic! It's a good fight! BP

A New Day for Tent of Nations and Fotonna

Today is a new day in many ways. After a stimulating discussion with Daoud and other FOTONNA friends last Thursday during our steering committee meeting, we all realized at some point, that we beginning to develop a new mission for our work together, or perhaps had just reached a new phase of the old vision of supporting TON in becoming more self sufficient. When I have the opportunity to provide an orientation to the Interfaith Peace Builders group this morning at the farm just south of Bethlehem, I will do so with new lenses. I look forward to seeing the group today as some of my oldest and lasting friendships will be present there along with some new ones.

The discovery is that Fotonna has worked with the the Nasser Family Farm/Tent of Nations project in its first phase of maintaining ownership of the land, and establishing an infrastructure which will enable them to move to forward in time when people can fulfill dream of the father of Daoud for a place where people could encounter one another. The court battle is far from over, but there is recognition there is obviously recognition by Isaeli authorities of the fact that the Nassar family farm has strong, legal evidence for their ownership of the land which cannot not be denied. Secondly, the farm is almost totally self sufficient in that it has the capability to provide for its needs of electricity and water.

The second phase which has been active from the very beginning includes providing opporunities for understanding and learning. With the Israeli authority denying permits for building new structures on the Nassar land, the farm has been a place for "a school or schools without walls" through offering of summer programs for youth, horticultural training for young farmers, and for courses at the Women's Center in the village. Thousands of international volunteers and visitors have also come on the land through out the year and brought their expertise and skills to the land.
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The third phase includes all the activities of the previous phases, formalized within buildings and spaces for a more formal Education/Peace and Justice Center located on the farm. That day will come when the occupation ends and the new sites are approved/

What this means is that Tent of Nations moves towards a more active program of education for all, including the invitation for more Israelis to become partners
in this effort. Friends of Tent of Nations may shift its efforts to provide support for developing infrastructure as it has, to seeking grants which might provide
support of a Multicultural Peace and Justice Center, right here in River City! Or, at least on this lovely hill top which I will see in just a few hours, a place where people have a chance to be transformed by their experiences together. BP