Birzeit, Ramallah and Back I

Awad is the roommate of my Arabic teacher from UCLA, Hassan. Back in December, Hassan invited our small class over to his and Awad's apartment for traditional, homemade Arabic food, Hassan being Iraqi, Awad being Palestinian. Perhaps it was the Araq (Arabic anise liquor akin to Sambuca), copious amounts of kebab, lebne (soft cheese with olive oil plate) and piles of grilled peppers, onions and zucchini, that fogged my memory to think that Awad told me of a professor-relative at Birzeit University who he wanted me to visit during my time in the Middle East. So when I e-mailed him last week to follow up on this offer, he informed that this was not true but in fact, a professor from Birzeit came to UCLA the week before. He got her e-mail and suggested I contact her.

Within a day, Professor Sonia Nimr of Birzeit University, Department of History, told me to give her a call to arrange an appointment. We set the time at 11 a.m. in her office on the second floor of the Higher Education Building.

Tuesday morning I found myself waiting to be fetched by the daugthers of a friend of Ziad's (Palestinian editor of the PIJ). At 8:04 am, Nafouz, Lana, and Nafouz's son Karim picked me up in front of my hotel and we headed north from Jerusalem to Birzeit. Nafouz was visiting from D.C. where she lives with her husband, a photojournalist for CNN, and her 3 year old, Karim. I asked her what she did in D.C. to which she replied, "Nothing, it's impossible to do any work with a kid."

About 15 minutes into our drive I noticed a high, concrete wall to my right that reminded me of the U.S.-Mexico border.

"I see that this is a wall, but is this THE wall?" I asked.

"Yes it is the wall, we are on the Israel side now, on the other side is Palestine," replied Nafouz.

Lana, a student of finance, remained quiet for most of our trip through Jerusalem past the Qalandya checkpoint, and onto the road leading to Ramallah and Birzeit.

Getting into the West Bank on a normal day isn't a problem. We drove by the Qalandya Checkpoint and entered the road to Ramallah -- on the other side of the wall.

The road is a mess--- uneven and eroded. At parts there are enormous speed bumps that barely slow down the taxis, trucks and cars racing along the road.

"Do you see this road? It's terrible for the cars," Nafouz said.

I asked whose responsibility it is to fix it. Nafouz mumbled something about it still being Israel's land and so the Palestinians aren't going to fund it and since Israelis no longer use it, Israel won't repair it.

On either side of the road there are several half-completed projects. Half-built buildings with Palestinian flags tied to metal posts sticking out of concrete columns, abandoned foundations, a smattering of car repair shops, furniture stores and the occasional fruit and vegetable market. Through my head, the thought kept running how the earth here looks the same as the outer parts of Jerusalem, the landscape hasn't changed, the gray rocks with dirt and green sandwiched between -- yet this is practically another country. Its people speak another language and in fact, there was only Arabic on billboards and signs, no Hebrew.

I recognized Birzeit from the photo on the website. The university sits upon a hill with buildings made of Jerusalem stone, sandy-white bleached. We drove toward the West Gate where Nafouz dropped us off.

Lana asked me which building I needed to go to so she could show the way. I could only remember History and Archaelogy and not the Higher Education part, which I realized nearly two hours later was crucial to locating the building. Lana thought the building was behind the finance building and pointed left from where we were standing.

Around us were several students visiting with each other before classes. Young men and women with notebooks and cigarettes, sitting, standing, chatting on benches and low stone walls. I had about two hours to kill before my appointment so I asked Lana to show me to the cafeteria so I could have a cup of coffee.

With 8 minutes to spare before her class, Lana showed me to the cafeteria, bade me farewell and I was on my own.

The night before my cell phone mysteriously stopped working. I could no longer make outgoing calls. When I tried, a very lovely, deep Hebrew-speaking woman's voice relayed a message to me which I could not understand. With my cup of coffee, I sat down amidst the students having breakfast to look over my paperwork.

I couldn't use my phone to call the cell phone help line, which was compounded by the fact that in the West Bank, Cellcom, my phone company doesn't have great reception. I needed to find some internet access to e-mail the company and also notify the office that I had made it to Birzeit, and that I hoped to be back in the afternoon for the second office shift. Somehow, perhaps student's intuition, I located a computer lab where the student attendant kindly offered me her account in order to sign into the network. I began the e-mails to the phone company and the office. Then, I purchased a phone card. I thought perhaps I could use a pay phone to call the phone company. This failed because after I dialed the number and was connected, I could no longer push any buttons on the keypad on the pay phone. This was necessary in order to navigate the automated answering service of the phone company. I took the opportunity to call the office, however, spoke to Najat who said she'd call me every half hour or so to make sure I was doing ok.

At this point, nearly an hour and a half had passed and I realized I still didn't know where I needed to be at eleven. Everyone I asked to point me to the history building was happy to help but no one had the right answer. I was directed to the media building, passed the law school, toward the library and then the campus museum. The woman working in the museum office knew the Higher Education part of the History and Archaelogy building title, told me the name in Arabic, which I have already forgotten, and I was on my way. I figured I could use the professor's phone to try to get through to the phone company.

I climbed one flight of stairs, turned right and arrived at a red door with a plaque that stated, "Professor Sonia Nimr, Lecturer." I knocked, turned the knob and found myself in a square office with high ceilings, white walls, few posters, three desks and computers, and a sitting area with a couch and two chairs facing each other, a coffee table between them. Sonia was sitting in a chair across from a blond young man, clearly a foreigner, looking over papers and discussing. Sonia rose from her chair, Gauloise cigarette between her fingers.

Sonia is about my height, thin, busty, with mid-shoulder length, red-orange, straight hair, deep wrinkles and a noticeable twitch in her eyes. In her thick accent she welcomed me and asked me to sit down, did I want some coffee?

Declining the coffee I explained the phone situation and she put me at her desk to call the phone company. The first person I talked to informed me that I had made "suspicious calls" and so my phone had been shut. To which I said, "suspicious calls? to who, how? but I need my phone!"

He gave me a number and people to talk to, which only rang and rang and rang. So much for that. I felt awful asking Sonia to let me keep making calls because each time she had to get up from her meeting, dial in a code and then let me use a phone. The young man working with her, Philipp, a German student writing his thesis on the role of Hamas in Palestinian politics, offered me his SIM card and told me I had to go outside and walk around a bit to find Cellcom reception.

Once again I called the phone company, this time I was transferred to an English speaking operator who suggested I turn the phone off then on again. I asked why this happened and she said, "You know, it's electronics, this happens sometimes, it's just a machine."

Ok.

The trick worked. My phone picked up the SIM card signal, or however the hell it works, and I made a few phone calls to the office and a friend to inform them of my whereabouts. Heading back into the building, I felt much better about being back in communication and prepared myself to interview Sonia Nimr.

Sitting across from Sonia, I pulled out my legal pad and pen, and flipped to the page with the questions I wanted to ask to get the conversation moving. First though, she needed to know a little about me, fine.

I told her a few things. I have been here for a month and I am an intern at the Palestine-Israel Journal. That I wanted to come talk to people here about the conflict because I was tired of hearing how it is and not being able to see it so that I may have an opinion of my own, from my own experience. I told her I'm a teacher at a religious school, I am a Jew who believes it is important, no, crucial that the Jews have a state because throughout history people have tried to wipe them off the face of the earth. However, it is important for me to first understand and then educate people about what is happening here. And hopefully, do so in a way that people can listen without being defensive, disbelieving and dismissive. That we cannot deny that Israelis, Jewish or otherwise, Jews from the Diaspora and Palestinians live here and no one is really going anywhere.
With that, she allowed me to begin.

What is your job here? What are you a professor of?

I teach history here. I am also starting an Oral History Center. Who is writing Palestinian history? We are under occupation and others are writing our history. So we need to start writing our own history and teach it to ourselves.

Who is stopping Palestinians from writing their history?

No one. That's why we have to start. That's why I'm starting this center here at the university.

What is your definition of occupation?

Occupation is someone occupying someone else's land, stealing their freedom. Israelis have to recognize that in this part of the world there will be no peace until we have our rights, with a state, for self-determination.

Realistically, what do you see in the future that will work, one or two states?

Two states where we can practice our own sovereignty without trespassing. Dreamwise- I hope for one state, like South Africa. One democratic state where both people elect a government freely, where both people's rights are guaranteed equally.

Israel does not recognize Palestinian rights. If so, then they would recognize rights to movement, school, life, water use, everything is restricted, everything has restrictions.

20% of the population in Israel is Arab-Israeli without equal rights. You have more rights if you go to the army but Arabs don't go to the army. They are denying our identity by mere fact that they call Israeli-Arabs Israeli. Palestinians are living on reservations today, like the Native Americans of the U.S. Our status and our rights are similar to Native Americans.

Let's talk about the elections and the Palestinian government, Hamas and Fateh.

I am an atheist but I am highly politicized. Let me tell you something, I'm going to fight for Hamas to enter the elections but I will fight more for Hamas to not win the elections.

People have to read the elections differently. Hamas did not win, Fateh lost. The number of votes were almost equal.

People are pissed with the West, they tell us to have a democratic election and they don't like the outcome. The boycott is unfair, it's not right to dictate to Palestinians, or to interfere by giving or withdrawing funds because of a political agenda, the political agenda of the West.

People in the West Bank are not happy with Hamas, they're not very religious, but more political than religious. Why do all the Palestinians have to be punished?

Why won't Hamas recognize Israel? It seems that all they have to do is make a few statements and the international funds will come through? Why not recognize Israel?

Hamas announced a truce, they haven't had operations in recent years. What about state-terrorism/Israeli terrorism? Who talks about that?

The West doesn't understand the East. Hamas cannot say they recognize Israel. They support/recognize Israel by making a truce. You can't have a truce with someone you don't recognize. Hamas has done it [recognized Israel] in many ways. Hamas has internal problems. There's "face saving", don't ask us to go naked all over the place.

Israel and the Quartet don't want peace. Israel only recognizes the P.L.O. to do deals and the people are not happy with them.


Do you make a distinction between Israelis adn their government?

There is no difference between the government and the people. Israelis are silent. Our children see violence every day. My son has seen his father on the ground, a soldier's boot at his neck and a gun pointed at him. You think this doesn't affect our children.

In the month that I have been here I have met many people who are working for peace, Israeli and Palestinian. There are Israelis who don't agree with the government and they are doing something about it.

Yes but we need more people to just say enough. I admire Women in Black who go to the wall every week and protest the occupation.

We're both stupid, Israelis and Palestinians, we should do something about the situation without the outside world. But the culture of fear in Israel is strong. Israeli security is one hell of an excuse to get more land and restrictions.

Would it be useful for Palestinian society to make a statement, take a public stand against suicide bombings, against terrorism and violence? I hear that as a great concern of Israelis, that Palestinians don't speak out against the violence and so they continue to justify and rationalize security measures for the protection and safety of their people.

Don't ask the victim to stand up against suicide bombings. I'm against killing civilians anywhere in the world. I don't know anyone who is "enemy" enough to be killed. If we weren't put into such a situation we wouldn't have suicide bombers, it's a reaction, I don't condone it or accept it but I understand.

But, if someone were to hurt my son, I don't know what I would do.

Israel controls the media and blows thing out of proportion. We are not equal, this is not an equal war. If we have a state, an army, self-determination, then talk to us about dealing with suicide bombers. We have nothing left for us to give up, nothing.

I went to Jenin this weekend. My mother lives there. I call her twice a day to make sure she is still alive. I went this time to bury my uncle who died. All week I worried that there would be curfew, or the roads would be closed. In my custom family and friends come to pay their respects to the family after someone dies. If there were any obstacles I worried I would have to stay another week, cancel my classes.

This time at the checkpoint we were stopped. I was in a van of men. I am not religious but in my people's way, it is shameful for a woman or a man to see another, a stranger without clothing. The men in my van were asked to remove their clothing, in front of me.

Sometimes there is a checkpoint between Birzeit and Ramallah. They stop the students, have them strip. Don' smoke, don't smile, don't fold your arms. This is not security, this is humiliation.

One time I saw one of my male students searched. He was asked to strip and saw me there. To this day he does not look me in the eye out of shame.

What do you see as your role a a professor of young Palestinians?

I try to make my students looks at things in a different way, not black and white, and not horizontal or vertical, either. I don't want any more fanatics, fanatics are bad news whatever religion they are. I try to make my students see the human perspective, look at ourselves and each other as humans, all of us as humans.

This world is like one piece of cake and everyone wants it, every generation that goes, there's a wave of destruction behind it.

And within my students there are many factions. I try to mediate the differences between them and their political affiliations.

How are the spirits of the students?

Students are depressed. As a people we feel our destiny is not in our own hands and not the way we like. It is frustrating.

At this point Sonia sat back, looked at me, cocked her head to one side and said, "I'm hungry. Let's eat lunch. Let's go. Philipp let's go have lunch I can't think when I'm this hungry."

We walked uphill from the Higher Education building, past students eating lunch, and to another building with a different cafeteria than the one I visited earlier in the morning. Climbing the stairs Sonia said to me, "You know, I teach U.S. History here at the university. All my students know about America is that it is a big evil, I teach them what is this big evil and how it came about."

Sonia treated Philipp and me to lunch. She insisted that I try a Palestinian specialty, Maskhan. It is a round piece of flat bread with tons of olive oil and chopped, grilled onions, with a large roasted chicken part on top. One eats this with plain yogurt.

We found a table and Sonia continued.

"I was in prison twice. I was tortured, I have several fake teeth," she said.

I asked why she was put in prison to which she didn't really respond. Rather she told me, "A Palestinian is guilty until proven guilty. Don't ask why. You can't ask why, there's no logic in this country. Don't ask why."

Somehow we got back on the topic of the checkpoints. Sonia shared that recently when the Israelis put up a checkpoint between Birzeit and Ramallah, the soldiers split the students into three lines. There were men, pretty women and ugly women. If a girl was standing in the pretty line and a soldier thought her to be ugly, he would ask, "what are you doing here, you're ugly."

Students were ordered to bark like a dog, make cat noises or stand on their hands.

Sonia asked if I had heard of the soldier's lottery. This is a tactic that has been used at the checkpoint to Hebron. A soldier fills his hat or helmet with pieces of paper and has a Palestinian pick out one of the paper pieces. On the paper may be written, "break a finger" or "brake fist through a windshield".

"The checkpoints are not for security, they are for humiliation," Sonia reiterated.

At this point Philipp mentioned that as a German, he participated in compulsory military service. He was trained to run checkpoints for the U.N. "These are not normal checkpoints," he said.

"The checkpoints are understaffed, there are no local language skills, there is constant yelling and there is no flow. Thousands of people go through these checkpoints every day and there are so few people processing them. You don't come into contact with a single human being, you just hear yelling. You'll see for yourself, Heidi."

At this point the conversation changed direction. Philipp told Sonia that his friend in East Jerusalem, whose home he stayed in the night before was recently released from prison. He was arrested without charge and stayed incarcerated for 15 months without trial, without a lawyer, and was released without explanation.

Philipp continued that he hears from his friends that no one sleeps alone anymore for fear of arrest in the middle of the night. You need a sleeping buddy because too often people disappear and at least, if someone else is in the room when the soldiers come there is a witness.

Before we finished, another professor stopped by to talk to Sonia. An engineering professor helping her develop something like a rickshaw for transport back and forth from the future home of the Oral History center, which will be at the old campus of Birzeit University. "A carless campus, that's what we hope for and so we are working on a prototype for it," she said.

We finished lunch hurriedly because Sonia, a high-energy type had yet to prepare for her 2pm lecture. Leaving the building, she turned to me and said, "I like Los Angeles, the ocean and the nice weather. I hope to go back there. They offered me a class to teach, on oral history, but maybe in 2008."

Back in Sonia's office I thanked her for her time. She gave me her brother's number as well, and suggested that I call him. He too is a professor at Birzeit and heads the campaign for the release of Marwan Barghouti, a political prisoner and a member of the Palestinian Legislative Council (PLC).

In parting Sonia said to me, "you always have a home in Ramallah. If you are ever stuck, if you want to meet for coffee or dinner, I'll make you dinner. Please call whenever you need, you are welcome. Now, when you go back through Ramallah, don't be afraid if someone invites you for hummus, join them and see what else you can learn."