surfing, running life and stories

I arrived in Israel angry! It had taken three hours to leave Jordan at the Dead Sea King Hoosain/Allenby Bridge. Young, arrogant armed girls, the Israeli border police, treated us all like shit. The bridge is a major crossing point for Jordanians and Palestinians as it is close to both Amman and Jerusalem. Twice I had queued for half-an-hour, got to the front of the queue and the child/officer just pack up her station and left (i.e. fuck you, go find another line and start again.) It was hot, the queues were long. Muslim women wrapped up in traditional scarves were pushing to front of the queue. Young western back-packers who had traveled in other middle-eastern countries had their passports taken and were left, sitting on the floor for hours. My first feelings in ‘the promised land’ were about what being powerless is.

My anger began to dissipate once we got to the coast. Telaviv was, for me about avant garde art, a restaurant/theatre run by deaf and blind staff, sunset music concerts, a wacky surf school in a derelict pavilion. Telaviv has lots of new high-rise construction, its a modern, vibey coastal town mixed with the slowness of its ancient buildings, its wealth and the warm summer air. Arriving back at our car in a deserted parking lot, late one evening and finding, to my South African surprise, that it had not been broken into and seeing young girls hitch hiking, made me realise how I accept violent crime as part of my reality at home.

Over the next few days, my experience can be captured in a set of images each which had a deep emotional impact. Many Israelis drive around with their national flag on their car. At first I saw this as an aggressive, militaristic power sign. I then realised that I have a jaundiced view of the white and blue ‘Star of David’. I don’t like the flag, I guess based on decades of messages I have received and processed. Recognising this in me, I could then see another possible interpretation. How amazing it is for people to have a deep love and passion for their country and a true sense of ownership and nationalism.

As images go, the proliferation and pertness of silicone breasts at a beach in Ceasaria left a striking image. To my relief one of my woman companions commented, confirming that, yes, these breasts were designed not to be ignored. Leaving those two major issues aside, the image of the 6meter high concrete wall in certain sections of Jerusalem cannot be ignored. There has been much written on the economic and social impact of the wall. Approaching it for the first time, when traveling from Jerusalem to the Palestinian town of Ramala, I was daunted and terrified. When I went through it for the fourth time later that day, it was still ugly, invasive and time consuming, but no longer scary. I don’t know what local Palestinians feel every time they go through the searches and scans. I did, more than once, see banter between soldiers and Palestinians. I presume this was a level of familiarity and tolerance. I think the wall began to make a different impression when I was in the old city of Jerusalem which is a 100% walled city. The old rock walls as high in places as the new concrete wall and built for the same purpose-to keep the enemy out and protect those within. When Israel was created by the United Nations some countries abstained from the vote and some voted against it. There is little point in debating Israel’s claim to the land-they were given it by a majority international assent. They are however surrounded by enemies, who do atack. In the same way that King David built a wall around the old city, with gates to control entry, modern day Israel has built its wall. Taking sides and discussing who threw a rocket first, or which side has the moral high ground is not going to be concluded before the next Messiah comes. Whether the wall achieves its purpose I cannot comment on, but my observation is that if I was a nation committed to protecting my people, surrounded by neighbors that hate me, I would, as King David did, build a wall.

Sitting on a cobbled walk way in downtown Jerusalem, drinking beer and enjoying the hot weather, it was amazing to see a freedom and multi-culturalism I have never experienced anywhere in the world. Young American school leavers, probably stoned, putting on (very poor) street theatre. The new designer Islamic dress code, the scarf, the dress, off-set by lift up bras and the tightest jeans imaginable. An old Lithuanian man playing sad tunes on a guitar-like instrument. Jembe drums, rave music and loud religious parades. An aura of freedom and fun. A nation built on diverse ethnic mix, united by religion and commitment to their country. I have no doubt that the standard bigotry, discrimination and ethnic separateness lurk, as they do in every other country I have visited. However, what I saw and enjoyed was that the streets were owned by the young, the old, the poor and the rich. Young Israelis are fortunate not to be defined and confined by skin color or culture but have the opportunity to grow up in a society that provides the same rights and social services to all its citizens. The huge (loaded) automatic weapon slung over the dread-locked Ethiopian girl’s shoulder is part of this picture. In the Congo I did not see this, only the boys were given guns.

I did not see the Israeli settlements, although I saw photos in the press of some being knocked down. I did not pray at ‘the wall’ as I do not pray. I am not able to judge the conflicting stories of culpability for child deaths in the recent Gaza war, but know that journalists and youtube are a dubious source of evidence. I know already that some reading this will label me, not only a Zionist, but probably anti-Islam and anti-Palestinian. I have spoken of some images and feelings and not made any judgments or political analysis. I left the region certain of one thing, how much I do not know and how much false information exists in the public domain. I am left with three final thoughts.

As an outsider, I battle to tell Judaism and Islam apart in terms of beliefs, practices and purpose. The list of similarities far outweigh any nuanced splits. They believe in the same monotheistic God, yet the religious hatred, symbolized by the Dome of the Rock and the Temple Wall is clung onto by both.

At some stage in history, the tribes of Judah left the region and scattered through out the world. The world they went to rejected them. Possibly out of guilt, this same world granted them land in the region of their origin. They have built a nation. Globally, all wars currently being waged in the world are about groups demanding land, their identity and their right not to be dominated by more powerful groups. In the same way that this is what Israel is doing, it seems that regional and international forces are creating a perfect historical juncture for the Palestinians to unite and with the support of their neighbors and the world declare their own nation. This is not a naive denial of the huge unresolved issues of land and resources. It is not a suggestion that Palestine adopt a soft approach. It is however a belief that a proud, united Palestine nation, with the backing and support of at least Jordan and Egypt can negotiate a cease fire and establish a forum to negotiate land, resources and peace, based on the needs of the region and not the needs and demands of the world super powers.

Lastly, when next a South African government minister makes anti-Israeli and anti-Semitic utterances and when next a group of Capetonian’s don their scarves (often choosing the wrong nation’s national colors) and shout war cries, I hope they can back this up, by, not only a factual explanation of their history and beliefs, but a clear solution devoid of rhetoric. I am pro-Palestinian! Having worked in the region I want to see a Palestinian nation created and believe that if Palestine, Jordan and Egypt committed themselves to this, it could be imminent.

Labels: I arrived in Israel angry