6th of October

Happy Halloween everyone! I won't lie - I arbitrarily want a sixth blog post for October and this one will surely be nothing more than random thoughts that cross my mind tonight. I am well beyond tired at this point, but oddly feel it is more necessary to have 6 posts for October than it is to just go to bed. I keep coming up with ideas that I feel very motivated to write about and adding them to the "In the Future" section. Like any To-Do list I have ever put together in my life, they always seem to grow faster than you can cross items off. I personally have never finished a written To-Do list, but I do hope to blog about each of the items I've set aside and taken notes on. Inshallah, that will happen.

I woke up at 5:30 this morning to get to help observe and monitor a protest near Salfit for human rights violations by the Israeli Occupation/Defense/Oppression/Racism Force. It is truly strange, the way my attitude about observing these demonstrations changes. Some days, I think it is needed and a wonderful way to spend time and resources while here in the West Bank. For example, I was of this disposition last night at 11:45 PM when I agreed to go. Other days, the trip just to arrive at the demonstration is a lesson in human rights violations. Illegal settlements, a giant concrete wall that confiscates Palestinian land, bulldozed houses - all you need to document violations here is open your eyes. As it turned out, this morning's demonstration had been postponed for one reason or another. (While it certainly was frustrating to wake up at 5:30, sit in a service for an hour while the driver waits for the car to fill up, drive an hour over twisty speedbump-plagued roads, and then walk a mile uphill to the Municipality Building, it was probably for the better as far as my health was concerned. Had tear gas been deployed, I am sure I would have been a pretty easy, largely immobile target, based on the quality of my fine motorskills after a 5 hour fitful night's sleep. While the demonstration itself was cancelled, members of the village council did treat us to a walking tour of the problems facing the village during the olive harvest. Althought it pretty much dealth with the norms for Palestinian villages (settler violence, army violence, permit applications for their own land, checkpoints, roadblocks, dirt mounds, lack of access to their own olive groves), I found it amazingly interesting to see it all (again). The rest of my international delegation seemed less impressed and perhaps even disappointed they would not be dodging rubber bullets and inhaling tear gas that morning. I diligently took notes and aim to submit the report to the organization offices tomorrow. I'll post that here as well when I finish.

In other news, Jeff and I ended up in an argument about representative democracy, voting, and social activism in the U.S. I still think you are an idiot not to vote whether you agree or disagree with electoral politics. It was a friendly debate, as debates should be. Both Jeff and I defined where we stood on the issues and then supported our positions with facts and examples. When one of us had a qualm with an example the other was using we made it known and the arguing begain. No name-calling, no berating one another - if only the debate about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict could be this way in the U.S.

Shira has more good blog posts - one on checkpoints and the newest one on the olive harvest. I am jealous of her writing style. It's simply incredible to read. I make myself feel better by convincing myself that a much more raw style can reach people as well. Inshallah. She says so many incredibly insightful things both in person and in her blog, but then she says something I don't agree with at all, or that I think is contradictory or self-important. I do think it's jealousy though. I find I blame her for being self-important but then I do honestly believe the work she does is more important. That's pretty much the definition of jealousy, right? Right.

Speaking of reaching people, I have been devoting a lot of "lost in thought while zoning out on things I should be doing" time to deciding on what I am going to do to positively affect this conflict when I get back in the U.S. Tens of thousands have been to Palestine and seen the very things I have, and the situation has just become worse. How am I going to reverse this trend? I fear there is such an "American burnout" on the Palestine issue. It's been plastered all over our newspaper headlines, television screens, magazines, and bookshelves for decades - quite frankly, maybe people are just worn out from seeing and hearing about it. Economic troubles, relationship problems, health problems, everyone has their own concerns, why care about a 60 year-long, seemingly intractable (did anyone even use that word before it was employed to describe this) conflict? I have not even been able to get my friends and family to really care. Why am I even here?

There's plenty wrong in my own community, my own state, and my own country. I do not seriously even think I could trace why I became interested (READ: obsessed) with the Middle East in the first place. Maybe it was September 11. I can remember that was 8th grade, such a long time ago. I think that screwed me up, I can remember feeling that way around that time. Maybe it was a realization my 15 year old mind had: 6 million dead in the Holocaust, genocidal campaigns in Rwanda and the Balkans (twice) in just the past 20 years. 2500 dead on 9/11, uncountable thousands dead in Iraq. I remember a spending so many nights thinking about it, just the numbers themselves, not even being able to comprehend the actual destruction of human life, memories, hope, contained within those numbers. And then telling my mom I thought God was losing the battle, that there was no way He could stop the senseless waste of human life going on daily in the world. Somehow I forgot about all this in less than four months. The biggest concern in my life was my 16th birthday, and how I was going to afford my first car. Maybe I just feel guilty about those desires, and my willingness to forces certain depressing realizations from my mind. Perhaps I'm here and passionate about this situation for the wrong reasons. Instead of being here for Palestinians and Israelis and peace, am I here to atone for my own sins?

I think individuals come here for selfish reasons, maybe not primarily, but somewhere hidden inside the motives. Maybe it is just a way to escape what we see as injustices we commit in our own lives. Injustices against siblings, parents, friends, and family. How stupid it is, to protest against a wall separating Palesitinians from Israelis while we build a wall in our own lives between ourselves and the ones who love us most.