The West Bank

I write this blog today with a bewildered, heavy heart. I am full of confusion and full of conflict after a full day in the West Bank, the Palestinian territory on the eastern edge of Israel. I visited Ramallah, Jericho, and Bethlehem, and learned an unbelievable amount about the Palestinian side of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and about Christianity.

I woke up this morning at 4:20 AM to catch the 5 AM bus to the main bus station to catch the 6 AM bus to Jerusalem, because we all know my luck with Israeli public transportation. I managed the buses just fine--actually pretty wonderfully--but of course my luck on the tram took a turn for the worse. I didn't validate my ticket, which is cause for a fine--but the officer guy took pity on me and cut me some slack.

Three fellow interns and I jumped on a bus at 8:15 AM to drive about 10 minutes east from Jerusalem to the West Bank. Our guide immediately welcomed us to "terrorist country." I didn't know whether he was referring to Israel or the West Bank, but either way, right off the bat, I was like:

But I decided to enjoy the ride.

One thing I love about Jerusalem's geography and topography--it requires so little imagination to picture what the landscape looked like 2,000 years ago. Short, gnarled olive trees sprout in the rich, sunset-colored earth and every once in a while, a goat or two will peek out from behind the stumpy trunks of trees. I mean, I practically expect the shepherds who heard the angels' proclamations to walk up to our bus with bemused looks on their faces.

That was my satisfied impression of the countryside... Until I blinked and was transported to a different world. Where shanties were homes. Where trash lined the street. Where women peeked out of burkas with only a slit for their eyes. We had entered the West Bank.

One thing I noticed as I traversed the West Bank.. There are SO. MANY. TIRES. Like legit rubber car tires are just strewn across the land. You can even see two in the above picture. It's crazy. I don't even know the explanation for that. I also saw a splatter of crusty red on a telephone pole that looked suspiciously lethal and posters of Arab-looking men holding rifles in front of famous landmarks (like the Dome of the Rock) hung all over the capital of the West Bank, Ramallah.

It's totally fine, ha ha ha, so normal!!!

Ramallah reminded me of Nazareth in that it's an Arab and Arabic-heavy city that retains some Israeli order. It was an interesting city, and we walked for about 20 minutes through the main streets.

A view of the valley

The city center

The market

We arrived at Arafat's tomb; Arafat was the leader of the Palestinian Liberation Organization and the Palestinian Authority (basically the nationalist ruling parties of Palestine) until his mysterious death/possible murder in 2004.

The tomb

My friend took a picture of me standing in between the two soldiers as I threw up some gang signs, but it's on her phone, so just stay on the lookout for that. The soldier on the right was pretty cute actually, and I considered giving his butt a lil' squeeze for a funny photo op, but then I realized he was holding a gun and he probs wouldn't find it as funny as sleep-deprived Aubrey does.

Still, could have been funny.

Anyways. We made our way to Jericho, which is apparently the oldest city in the world... Somebody needs to check those facts. Jericho is a) where Joshua and his constituents marched around the walls of Jericho and blew trumpets until the walls tumbled down and b) where Jesus fasted for 40 days and nights and was tempted by the devil.

We took cute cable cars up the mountain--

With our great guide whose name is literally "Thursday" and who told me that his nephew is an eligible bachelor and engineer in Kuwait--

And we were treated to a fab view of the West Bank.

We then toured the Greek Orthodox monastery that honors Jesus's temptation.

There it is in the rocks!

Gorgeous

The rock upon which Jesus sat and fasted/was tempted

The story of Jesus' resistance to the Devil's temptation is one of my favorite New Testament stories for two reasons.

First of all, I think it's such an admirable example that He set for us. He was weakened by hunger and thirst and probs just missed heaven a ton but remained faithful to God and to the standards He held for himself. That's beautiful, right?

Second--Jesus is honestly just like the biggest baller ever, okay? Like picture this. You know when you just really, really hate someone so you disagree with everything they say? Like they could say, "wow isn't oxygen really great?" and you'd be like--

I mean, idk, I kind of just prefer to hold my breath, but like if that's what you wanna do, it's your choice, whatever.

You guys--THAT WAS LITERALLY JESUS. He had STARVED himself for FORTY EFFING DAYS and the Devil is like "yo dude why don't you just make yourself some bread?" And Jesus was like,

Eh, whatever, I'm not really that hungry, I don't feel like it, thanks though

Like, oh my God. He was the best. 

I mean like maybe I'm going to hell for blasphemy, but one thing I've learned since I've been in Israel is that nothing here is perfect. We romanticize the cities and the stories and the people to the point that upon arrival, they're unrecognizable. Being in Jerusalem and praying at the Western Wall and walking the Via de la Rosa are beautiful experiences--but they aren't perfect by any means. And I feel like in the past, I've read the Bible so drily and treated the people in it like idolized angels when they were really f*cked up humans like all of us. Seriously, though--Jesus went to a freaking wedding with no open bar and was like "yo this is whack" and TURNED WATER INTO WINE. WHAT A HOMIE. Or when He's walking through a town and tries to take some figs from a tree but they're not ripe yet, so He literally goes, "eff this tree," and makes it barren forever because it was probs like March and the tree just wasn't blossoming yet. Or when he's taking a nap on a boat, and everybody is freaking out about a measly little storm and they wake him up, and he literally comes up to the deck and is like "you guys need to chill the eff out" and just stops the storm and is like "God, guys, I'm literally Jesus, did you think we were gonna drown? Let me effin' nap."

Like I said. I'm probs going to hell. But also... Maybe not. We as humans appreciate love and humor and enjoyment so much; I think that the God who created us values the same things. So I like to think of Jesus as the best friend I'm ever gonna have. And if he's gonna be a good friend, he's gotta laugh like at least at one or two of my "that's what she said" jokes. Okay, kidding on that last part. But I bet he would have laughed.

Anyways. 

I'm really rambling here. I've been awake for like 20 hours. Bear with me, friends.

We then went to Bethlehem for lunch and for a tour of the Church of Nativity, which is built on top of the cave in which Jesus was born.

The Doorway of Humility--so small you have to BOW to get in!

Stunning Greek Orthodox shrine

Jesus's birth site plus Aubs

We then walked about two seconds over to the Catholic church honoring the same humanity-saving event.

After our quick tour, our guide actually sang the Lord's Prayer to us in Aramaic, which is the combined language of Ancient Hebrew and Arabic that Jesus really would have spoken. It was beautiful.

Then, we continued with a walk through the Old City of Bethlehem--

Which was lovely.

Then, the day took a turn for complicated.

We reached a refugee settlement and were told we were about to walk through. At which point a man with a hose proceeded to spray all of us tourists with water.

Our guide insisted the man was just trying to cool us off, and I was like--

Oh yeahhhh, I'm sure

But my indignant mood shattered pretty quickly, morphing into disgust and pity.

The streets were filthy. The buildings were falling apart with no paint, just graffiti slandering Israel and Judaism covering the walls.

A call to boycott Israeli goods, because 16% of the profit goes towards "the murder of Gazan children"

The settlement

I was uncomfortable. I was hopeless. I was upset. And it only got worse as we walked out of the settlement towards the gigantic border wall between Israel and Palestine.

Graffiti once again took over my attention. Some of the sayings blasted Israel. Others begged for release from the prison of Palestine.

Short autobiographies of West Bank children and young adults lined the wall as well--including the story of a Palestinian boy who gave up his seat on the bus for an elderly Israeli women when none of the Israelis on the bus would stand up.

Vaguely relevant, for some reason

I have not suddenly changed allegiances. I have not changed my mind about the right of Israel to exist. I have not succumbed to blatant propaganda or whitewashing of sins.

However.

Today depressed me, because I finally understood the ramifications of the lack of a two-state solution. I saw firsthand the poverty and despair in Palestine. And I was forced to confront my own ignorant hubris and dismantle it as I wracked my brain for an acceptable way to please everyone... and found none. I wanted to make it better. I wanted to fix it. And I don't know how.

I left the West Bank sobered and saddened. I was quiet for the next few hours as we made our way back to the main Jerusalem bus station. And I felt hopeless until I saw this.

I know it doesn't look like much in the picture. But it was a beautiful sunset tonight. And even though I'd traipsed through millenia-old sites dedicated to my religion, this might have been the closest I've felt to God in a little while in the way I am used to. It was going to be okay. The sun was going to set, and it will rise tomorrow; the leaders of today might fail in their quest to solve the conflict, but the leaders of tomorrow--hopefully myself included--will dedicate their time and energy and lives to its conclusion. I am in a screwed up, sometimes depressing, but unbelievably Holy place. I am so lucky.

And to reward you for making it through such a rollercoaster of a post, here's one of the writings on the wall that made me chuckle.

Signing off with a lot less hubris but a little bit of hope,

Aubs

Wadi Rum and the Ride Home

Oh my god. I would have written this post yesterday upon my return home, but my blood was boiling and my eyes were drooping too much to compose a comprehensive account.

The night at the Bedouin campsite was pretty wonderful. A full moon shone in a sky dotted with multi-colored stars. The resort-style camp sits in the middle of a nature reserve, solitary and isolated, so no lights spoiled the view. Kajsa, a new friend of ours, and I climbed up a mountain on the side of the camp to see the panorama.

Even though my alarm was set to wake up for the sunrise, I got lazy and slept in. Oh well.

I finally rolled out of bed to eat a delicious breakfast of hummus, pita bread, and the most delicious olive oil ever. Then, we climbed into trunk beds lined with benches to explore the Wadi Rum desert.

We drove away from every semblance of civilization to see the unearthly rock structures and blazing sand.

"Where the heck am I?"

It honestly felt post-apocalyptic. It was about 110 degrees outside, and only lizards and camels roamed the sand.

Hey there, camel

Panorama!

We wandered into a cool, natural cave..

Saw a mushroom-shaped rock...

And beheld gigantic mountains that looked like melting candles.

After a couple of hours of exploration, we jumped into a shuttle to get back across the border through the town of Aqaba. Our driver had some eyebrow-raising comments on the miraculous success of monarchies and interesting observations about his country.

Driver: "The only reason we have peace is because of our king. Monarchies are the best."

Me: 

Mhm okay I see. 

Aqaba was a city in development. Money pours in from Gulf countries and even the United States to build up new housing complexes and city centers. Lots of propaganda spouting from our driver... I couldn't tell if he whitewashing all the problems with this Jordanian city... Or if it really was as perfect as it seemed. We never actually got out of the car, but here's a picture through the windshield.

Aqaba was clean, kind of empty, and lined with palm trees and beautiful buildings. It actually reminded me of Palm Springs sort of! It's hard to compare the places and sights and experiences I have here to things back home; I don't want to "cheapen" the uniqueness and singularity of my time here. However, I do want to try and relate what I see and hear and feel in this region of the world in a way that makes sense. So, there ya go!

Our group made the same walk across the deserted expanse of no-man's-land back to Israel. Kajsa got questioned a little harshly (they asked for her grandfather's name) but I skated across with no issues. 

me #strutting back to Israel

After a quick lunch, Kajsa and I walked to the bus station for our 5-hour bus ride back to Tel Aviv.

Do you really think it was uneventful? Do you?

Kajsa and I sat down in some seats near the front of the bus, and within minutes, a random girl came up and told us to get out of her seat.

Kajsa and I looked around at all the empty seats around us like,

But this young lady insisted we move. And even asked that we show her our tickets to prove we had bought them???!!!

So we got up and sat in the seats right behind her, eyeing her the entire time like--

We settled into our seats for about an hour, picking up a few more passengers as we made our way to Tel Aviv. 

Then--I kid you not--I got roused out of a nap with a tap on the shoulder, and I was told I was in someone's seat.

WHAT. 

Kajsa and I were slightly annoyed--

But we decided that since everybody was so concerned with sitting in the exact seat printed on their tickets, we'd go back to seats 50 and 51, which were the numbers on our tickets. Only... all the seats were full.

And four people were simply sitting in the aisle.

Let me say that again.

Kajsa and I had paid twenty-five dollars each for seats on an over-booked bus.

(Cue the constantly-recurring question of, "Is this abnormal or are we just spoiled Americans?")

How could this be?

Well, when Israeli soldiers are dressed in their uniforms, they're allowed to get on the bus for free. However, this means that sometimes they'll get onboard buses that have already sold out. Meaning that people who paid money for their seats sit in the aisle. 

In. The. Aisle. 

Some guy insisted that Kajsa and I just kick the people in our seats out because "f*ck them," but we realized the futility of this. Everybody would be kicking everybody off until they got to a soldier in his or her seat. So, Kajsa and I decided to bite the bullet and just occupy the floor... Not with any silence or acquiescence of course. Did you really think we'd sit nicely, quietly, lady-like?

Many loud sighs, lots of almost-shouted , open-ended comments ("I guess we will just SIT ON THE GROUND THEN"), and multiple pictures filled the bus as the onlookers sat uncomfortably.

That picture above is Kajsa and me literally laying in the aisle because we were pretty damn exhausted!!!!!!!

Three hours after being resigned to the ground, two people got off the bus, so Kajsa and I sprawled across some seats. 

I got on my next bus--IN A SEAT--and after another hour and a half, I was finally, finally, FINALLY home. I took a quick shower, then passed the eff out. 

Today, I will be sitting on the couch for 12 straight hours because I need to remember what it is like to not sit on a floor. I'll call it a sanity day. Back to the grind tomorrow.

And with that, I end another blog entry and get back to reality. 

With much love,

"My feet SURE ARE SORE" Aubs