My family was traveling across Jerusalem by light rail last week. The train was crowded and we were tired from a long day out. I was separated from the rest of the family and held Selah in my arms, trying to keep her from fussing. Selah was interested in the animated conversation of a young woman who was speaking to a friend by cell phone near us. I'm pretty sure Selah thought this teen was speaking to her!
When the girl hung up, she finally noticed Selah smiling at her and cheerfully mentioned what a cute baby I had. This broke the ice and we started chatting a little. She asked why I was in Israel and if I "liked living here."
"Yes and no," I replied. "Some things are really hard about living here."
"Yeah, I get you. What's been hard?"
Hmm. I didn't know this person at all. I only had a few minutes before we'd reach my stop. But I'd already made up my mind to stop tailoring my answers to this common question -- "Do you like living here?" -- based on who was asking. Why should I say something completely different to a Palestinian in East Jerusalem than to a Westerner on the Israeli light rail? I decided to be honest but slightly nebulous.
"The different people groups here and how some of them feel treated."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, for example I know some Palestinians here and it's hard hearing their side of the story," I answered.
Still smiling and engaged, and seemingly genuinely interested, this young woman responded, "Oh? What is their side of the story? I've never heard it."
I've never heard it. Did she mean she'd never spoken with a Palestinian? Or never heard them share how the Occupation affects them? Has she really only heard rhetoric from the other side? Has she only interacted with Jews? Has she never crossed a checkpoint? Never seen the Wall? I had no idea what the answer was to any of these questions, but I did know that I had her attention and I only had a couple minutes.
Without any forethought, I said the first thing that came to mind. "The checkpoints -- they're really difficult for Palestinians to get through. Some people wait for three hours every morning to get from Bethlehem to their jobs in Jerusalem. The lack of freedom of movement is a big deal to them."
"Wow! Really?" she responded. This teenager hadn't had a clue that checkpoints were hard on her Palestinian neighbors. Now she does.
We briefly talked about what I do like about living in Israel, and I also made sure I asked her what she's doing here. Before I knew it, the train was pulling up at Yaffo Center stop, and we both were pushing through throngs to get off and go on our separate ways. I relayed the conversation to my kids, and we wondered together what I might have said differently if I'd had more time to think.
But I also was struck with a new thought: it's possible that there are hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands of people living in Israel who don't have a clue. If they live and study in circles of secular or religious Jews, if they only read certain news sites, if they have Israeli passports and thus aren't allowed across the Wall, if they don't have Palestinian friends or neighbors, if they read Israeli history textbooks and listen to Israeli politicians ... maybe, just maybe, they really don't know. If so, I'm even more thankful than I already was for organizations whose goal is to reach out and inform, Ir Amim, Zochrot, Breaking the Silence, and The Parents Circle being a few examples.
I only have two weeks left in this country, but maybe I should think ahead of time as to how to better answer the next time someone asks, "How have you liked living in Israel?" May my words and her new understanding linger in the mind of the girl I met on the train...
When the girl hung up, she finally noticed Selah smiling at her and cheerfully mentioned what a cute baby I had. This broke the ice and we started chatting a little. She asked why I was in Israel and if I "liked living here."
"Yes and no," I replied. "Some things are really hard about living here."
"Yeah, I get you. What's been hard?"
Hmm. I didn't know this person at all. I only had a few minutes before we'd reach my stop. But I'd already made up my mind to stop tailoring my answers to this common question -- "Do you like living here?" -- based on who was asking. Why should I say something completely different to a Palestinian in East Jerusalem than to a Westerner on the Israeli light rail? I decided to be honest but slightly nebulous.
"The different people groups here and how some of them feel treated."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, for example I know some Palestinians here and it's hard hearing their side of the story," I answered.
Still smiling and engaged, and seemingly genuinely interested, this young woman responded, "Oh? What is their side of the story? I've never heard it."
I've never heard it. Did she mean she'd never spoken with a Palestinian? Or never heard them share how the Occupation affects them? Has she really only heard rhetoric from the other side? Has she only interacted with Jews? Has she never crossed a checkpoint? Never seen the Wall? I had no idea what the answer was to any of these questions, but I did know that I had her attention and I only had a couple minutes.
Without any forethought, I said the first thing that came to mind. "The checkpoints -- they're really difficult for Palestinians to get through. Some people wait for three hours every morning to get from Bethlehem to their jobs in Jerusalem. The lack of freedom of movement is a big deal to them."
"Wow! Really?" she responded. This teenager hadn't had a clue that checkpoints were hard on her Palestinian neighbors. Now she does.
We briefly talked about what I do like about living in Israel, and I also made sure I asked her what she's doing here. Before I knew it, the train was pulling up at Yaffo Center stop, and we both were pushing through throngs to get off and go on our separate ways. I relayed the conversation to my kids, and we wondered together what I might have said differently if I'd had more time to think.
But I also was struck with a new thought: it's possible that there are hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands of people living in Israel who don't have a clue. If they live and study in circles of secular or religious Jews, if they only read certain news sites, if they have Israeli passports and thus aren't allowed across the Wall, if they don't have Palestinian friends or neighbors, if they read Israeli history textbooks and listen to Israeli politicians ... maybe, just maybe, they really don't know. If so, I'm even more thankful than I already was for organizations whose goal is to reach out and inform, Ir Amim, Zochrot, Breaking the Silence, and The Parents Circle being a few examples.
I only have two weeks left in this country, but maybe I should think ahead of time as to how to better answer the next time someone asks, "How have you liked living in Israel?" May my words and her new understanding linger in the mind of the girl I met on the train...
