Palestine, part one

I came to Ramallah yesterday, and it's been beautiful. One of the first things I noticed is the major shift between how I felt in Amman and how I feel here. Crossing the border turned my frown upside down, and I began to question what it is about Amman that's so wretched? I came to this conclusion -- being that 60% of the population is Palestinian (and they're primarily there because of '48 and '67), being that the terrain and weather are quite similar, one feels like it could be Palestine. In fact, when I first arrived, I felt quite happy because I felt a familiarity. After being there, though, I realized that it's not Palestine. On so many profoundly overlapping levels, Palestine is so close, yet so far. It's just across the Jordan River, just across the Dead Sea, and people used to cross back and forth all the time. Borders are inhumane, and the attempt to render a border impenetrable goes against what humans ought to do - move freely across lands. Somehow, Amman's not-quite-Palestine-ness has generated a thick bitterness that makes the air there heavy.

I got into the country with relative ease. I paid an extra $100 to pass the border at Allenby Bridge as a "VIP." This meant that instead of getting off and on buses, waiting for them to fill up before they'd leave, wait with the throngs of much more assertive people than I for luggage, etc., I was marked as 'privileged.' And in some senses, I am. In others, I'm not. I still had to wait 2 hours while the Israeli's checked to make sure various things (I wasn't intending to stay forever, I don't hold a Palestinian identity card, etc, etc...), but 2 hours is much better than the 5 I waited last time around. I think the extra $100 made the trip much easier.

I had a funny conversation with one of the soldiers while I was waiting to be let it. He came to ask me the same questions I was already asked three times. He was a nice enough fellow who spoke English without an accent:

Kathy: Where are you from?
Soldier: Canada
Kathy: Oh, I live in Michigan, quite close to Canada.
Solder: I'm from Alberta, a little ways away.
Kathy: Well, you have a nice country. Both of them.
Soldier: (Smiling) Thanks! Well, that should be enough.
Kathy: Okay, great! Hook me up! (i.e. get me the fuck out of here quick style)

I love it here. The bus took us from the border to Jericho where you then catch a shared taxi to your next destination. The trip to Ramallah took us through these windy roads on mostly low lying hills, but other times quite steep and scary. They were dotted with makeshift homes built by folks who live in those unforgiving hills in corrugated metal structures (unbearably hot in the summer, and bone chilling cold in the winter). They tend to their goats and chickens, and live what must be a pretty isolated life. I mean, it's close enough to Jericho by car, but I didn't see many there. We drove the roads, through the hilly town of Taybeh (home of the delicious Taybeh beer and its brewery), past illegal Jewish settlements, underneath Jewish-only bypass roads, till we finally got to Ramallah.
(above, an illegal West Bank settlement)


I just love it here. How do I explain it? I felt like I could finally let out a sigh and relax. It's such a profound feeling, such a lovely comfort to feel at home. It's near unbelieveable to me.

I came directly to the Zarour grocery store and began meeting everyone. My cousin Diana was running the store while Ghneim was on break at the house. I made my way across the street, feeling as if I had never left. My aunty Jane was beaming with her white smile and silvery hair. Ghneim welcomed me with his smart ass comments and a sweet hug. Diana with her double kisses and big smiles. It's good to be here. My aunty Mary visited me, then I met up with a bunch of people at Zarour BBQ (super delish chicken for those of you who ever make it out here). Again, I felt like I never left when I saw Muna and giggled at her silliness, evoked by the excitement of having Tamara (her daughter, my sister) and I here together. Issam and Summer were also there, with their two beautiful kids, and there was Nihad with her kids, and Nader the musical maestro, Elizabeth and her kids, Ghneim and I.

Then to Ramie's birthday party, which was a house full of happy kids running and screaming, a table full of food and cakes that Jane (15 years old!) made, adults in the living room chillin', eating, drinking turkish coffee.


THEN (same day, yo)! I was invited by Summer and Issam to a get together. It was great to meet like-minded foreigners, Palestinians from the Diaspora, and Palestinians involved in film, art, development, green energy and so on...We got into serious discussions regarding the proper size of fruit for sangria, but in the end, we were happy to have the delicious drink, and it made everyone properly loopy and encouraged fun conversation about music, politics, life in Palestine, life in London and whatever other words were shared. Got home super duper late and didn't hear the end of it from my dear cousin Ghneim. : )

As I said, I love it here.