"Studying" Abroad

How much studying actually goes on when one is studying abroad?

It's 11:45 pm on a Friday night here in Jerusalem (the equivalent of a Saturday night in the States), and I decided to stay in tonight because a) I'm running low on cash b) it's really cold outside, and the rain might pick up again, and c) I thought I could start on my 30-page paper due in a month.

Needless to say, it's Friday, and I'm in no mood to sit here hunched over my desk researching about Israel's role in the Iran Contra Affair. I spent most of the evening at my friend's apartment for our ritual Shabbat dinner and then commiserated over the amount of work piling up on our desks and how little motivation there is to do any of it.

Now, I'm sitting at my desk with five books on Reagan sprawled open to unseeing eyes, a few tattered pages with scrawled notes, and a pen behind my ear while I opt to update my blog instead.

Studying abroad is generally understood by most college students as "break time", and the classes a joke, if you will.

Back home, I will hardly ever show up to class without reading the assignment, and God forbid I skip class. Here, I'm more lax about the readings; here, the weekends are not stressful extensions of the week; and here, I'll skip class every so often without feeling guilty if something else comes up. Of course this is all to a certain extent since I'm still paying to attend the university.

Studying abroad is so unique because as much as one's home university would hope, the focus is not on what is being learned in the classroom or from the books. It is time for the student to explore a different culture, society, lifestyle that she may not be familiar with or agree with. It's time for the student to have as many encounters with as many new people as possible. It's time for him to share as many experiences and stories while listening to others' perspectives and opinions on shared and personal experiences. It's time for her to travel and discover new likes and dislikes in music, food, etc. and challenge herself in unfamiliar situations. It's time for him to observe and to reflect.

Initially, it's difficult to be so far from home, family and friends. It's frustrating to not be able to communicate with people because you might not know the language. It's hard to integrate yourself into the society and to adopt new cultural norms. And it's unnerving to have your perspective challenged by new experiences and other points of view. (Just look at my earlier posts for goodness sake.)

But ultimately, study abroad is so gratifying because the place you stay becomes home. After just even a month, you can start to read signs as if they were in your native tongue and understand conversations on the bus. You embrace foreign customs like Shabbat dinner and incorporate them into your own traditions. And it's still difficult, but you learn the most when you can explain your point of view while understanding someone else's to deconstruct and then reconstruct a stronger argument.

It's for moments when I find myself sitting around arguing with Israeli and non-Israeli friends about subjects ranging from relationships to the situation in Gaza that I wanted to study abroad. It's the times I wander around the old city of Jerusalem and perch on a bench to people-watch downtown that I'm the happiest and learn the most.

So even though I'm not always cracking open the books like I would at Wellesley, I'm learning priceless knowledge that may be completely worthless or completely invaluable. It is "break time" in that there is less stress and urgency in the academic sense. Yes, some classes are a joke, but this is really dependent upon your professor. Irregardless, during the past few months, I've learned more about Israel, about Palestine, about myself, about people than I ever expected, and this experience studying abroad will have a lasting legacy in my life.

I'm sorry if this post sounds trite-the end of the semester is nearing, and nostalgia for my life in Jerusalem is already beginning. (I can already anticipate having to tell myself to read this post next semester when I'm again in a new location to remind myself that in the end, I won't want to leave.)

It's now 1:18 am. I should probably start that paper.

Photos from this morning's field trip to the Christian sites along the Via Dolorosa in the Old City:
The sheep pools where supposedly Jesus healed people.


















A very well preserved church from the age of the Crusaders.
Old city views and the narrow streets along the Via Dolorosa in the Muslim quarter.

Thanksgiving in Jerusalem

Although it's hard to be away from home as the holiday season kicks off with my favorite holiday of the year, I'm thankful for everything right now, just the way it is.

A few of my friends including myself were starting to feel homesick as our friends back in the states head home, so we decided that despite the inconveniences of not having a large oven or all those appliances and random spices (nutmeg, cinnamon, etc.) that accumulate over time in our cabinets at home, and that we take for granted, we would have a home-cooked meal for Thanksgiving with no essential dish spared.

We had stuffing, a roasted chicken, garlic & dill potatoes, roasted onions, jelly cranberry sauce retaining its canned figure, pan-seared tuna, strawberry & mango salad, creamed corn, sweet potatoes, and even a pumpkin pie to grace our table.






















I was not looking forward to making the pumpkin pie, but Thanksgiving is just really not Thanksgiving without a pumpkin pie. So I bought some butternut squash (I couldn't find pumpkins in the shouk!) and spent two days wondering how I would steam them and then puree them without a steamer or a blender.

Thankfully, Jerusalem supermarkets are more accommodating to the Americans living in Jerusalem than I had anticipated (since the costume turn-out on Halloween was pretty disappointing). I spied the last two cans of canned pumpkin hidden on the top-shelf and triumphantly returned home to the large squashes awaiting their fate on the dining room table. They would have to wait another day.












Despite having to substitute a pie crust with filo dough and evaporated milk with extra condensed milk, the pie turned out pretty well.
















All in all, Thanksgiving tonight was really wonderful, and I feel genuinely lucky that I got to spend it in Israel.

I hope everyone both abroad and at home had a great Thanksgiving!

Update for Mom

It's been a while since I've last posted, and for that, I apologize.

Since I last wrote, a lot and not much has really happened-

Classes are getting more demanding as this weekend beckons midterm exam week; paper topics are being discussed before my typical procrastination scramble begins; the countdown to going home has begun (just 7 weeks!), and I'm realizing I have yet to do so much here; the weekends are flying by in a surreal haze; and already I'm starting to miss Jerusalem.

During the past few weeks:

I visited Yad Vashem-the Israeli Holocaust Museum one cold, rainy afternoon and left with a heavy heart and a strange sense of shock at the speed of the human heart's desensitization

I was supposed to go to the DAM concert in Ramallah and the Saz concert in Bethlehem, but both trips were unsuccessful

I went to a lecture held by Rashid Khalidi about "The Nakba and the Palestinian Identity" during which he spoke about the second Nakba that Palestinians are currently mired in. He sharply criticized the ineffectivity of the Palestinian Authority, which he lambasted as worse than ineffective because it is in fact harming the Palestinian cause and community.

(Rashid Khalidi on the right answering a question. edit: Khalidi is actually on the left.)

Khalidi explained that the Palestinians have suffered and continue to suffer a series of traumas, yet they are unable to be the masters of their own narrative. He lamented the failure of the true Palestinian narrative to be accepted in the U.S., while someone in the crowd asked how it would be possible to change this when the U.S. was the reason for all of Palestine's troubles (I don't agree). Most interestingly, Khalidi advocated the route of non-violence because in these specific circumstances, violence is counter-productive because it reinforces the Jewish narrative/history of anti-semitism and ideology upheld in both Israel and the U.S.

I celebrated my birthday with wonderful friends and five nights of three hours of sleep each.

My friends treated me out to dinner at a really wonderful Moroccan restaurant. Brought back nice memories.


































This afternoon, I went on a tour of East Jerusalem with Ir Amim-where we visited Palestinian villages marred by the lack of government funds (due to the fact that many are not represented in the local government because they choose not to vote because voting is an acknowledgement of Israeli jurisdiction) and by the "separation wall", "security fence", "envelope", call it what you will.


Our tour guide was such an honorable man-a proud Israeli and veteran who acknowledged the problems of the Israeli government's treatment of the Palestinians within Jerusalem. He described it best by telling us that Sharon once said that "Palestinians never lose the opportunity to lose an opportunity", yet "Israelis make the mistake of making mistakes". (edit: and "a mistake that succeeds is still a mistake" - Asher Ginzberg)


Just a few words about the wall: I'm not going to answer whether or not I am for it or against it.

The fact is that it is doing its job. Since it was erected, the number of suicide bombings and other attacks have decreased dramatically. Since it was erected, Israel has been under even greater global scrutiny for human rights offenses. Standing next to it and touching it is chilling and humbling. Looking up at its pockmarked facade, I am able to sympathize with the Palestinians, yet my heart ached when I heard our tour guide's voice shake as he confessed he did not have the heart to read what was written upon the wall.

































Tonight, I went to an orthodox Jewish Shabbat dinner and had an interesting discussion about why it is that Israel's birth caused such a global stir. Our host argued that it was because the world anticipated Israel's future role as a beacon of morality for the world. He also claimed that unfortunately, society has forgotten this ideal-perhaps this is the reason for the lack of peace? I had never heard this perspective before-I always believed Israel's birth made world headline news because of the issue with Palestinian refugees and the wars that followed.

And still, our weekly tradition of Shabbat dinner together continues-

Shabbat dinner with friends. Don't worry, mom. I promise I'm not starving.

As inconvenient as everything shutting down (including public transportation) on Shabbat has been, I think I will miss this the most.













Here are two views of the dome of the rock from West and East Jerusalem. The one where the Dome is closer is from the Mount of Olives-note all the graves.

The Palestinian Fatalism

It's election day!

Unfortunately, since I'm 7 hours ahead of the action, by the time I wake up, everything will be decided-the new president of the United States will be declared. (Unless ballots go missing, or machines start breaking down and dropping or switching votes, or someone demands a recount and sues the other, or etc. )

There's a lot of buzz here in Israel-it's almost as if the Israelis know more about the elections than a lot of the American students around here. And relevantly, here's a funny article I saw in the NYT.

It seems that the rest of the world has more at stake in these elections than Americans do.

"When America catches a cold, the rest of the world gets the flu."

Anyway, last time I wrote about the idea of fatalism in Israel and really only focused on the Israeli attitude. Coincidentally, the next day, I went to the Givat Ram campus of Hebrew University, which is located in West Jerusalem to go do some research for my internship in the UN archives. While I was flipping through random sources, I came upon a UNICEF booklet titled: "Palestinian Children in the Labor Market".

Especially around East Jerusalem, it's fairly common to see young Palestinian boys usually around 11-16 years old in the middle of the roads offering their windshield wiping services or selling packs of tissues to temporarily stopped cars. It's hard enough to see children doing this and even harder when you know they should be going to school instead but most of them don't have a choice because they're trying to help their poor families.

One time I witnessed a particularly disheartening scene when I was waiting to cross the street, and the usual Palestinian boys were there. One boy with a bucket was waiting for the man inside a car to pay him while the car behind was honking and screaming in an unnecessary rage of impatience because the light had just turned green. As the car drove by the boy, the man inside yelled something at the boy. After a second, the boy in response kicked his plastic bucket into the air as his younger companion watched helplessly as it shattered into a million shards onto the pavement. They couldn't have been older than 14 years old.

I remembered this scene when I found this booklet, and as I was flipping through it, I happened upon a section under the topic of "Pessimism and Fatalism".

It described,
"These feelings are widespread and reflect a general state in society...The folowing statements reflect the severity of the problem:

• We live a desperate life.
• Surely we will die as martyrs.
• I feel I am going to die when I am 20 years old.
• We live in a cemetery.
  
• I wish martyrdom.
  
• I wish martyrdom or invasion comes.
• Death is better than this life.
  

These statements confirm that political and social violence, which children are subjected to, absence of national freedom and the difficult economic circumstances negatively impact the psychological aspect of children and make them depressed. Some of them do not try to improve the quality of their lives and consider salvation beyond their capacity. These feelings lead to actions considered by society as immoral-such as: smoking and chasing after women"

-Birzeit University: Development Studies Program

I must clarify though, that I believe this study specifically focused on a particular demographic of the Palestinian population in Israel. I do not believe these feelings apply so much for Arab-Israelis, but I think they are appropriate for many Palestinians in refugee camps and those stuck in the West Bank and Gaza.

Arab-Israelis definitely have more opportunities than the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza, but like I said before, they too think a peace is far in the coming.

Although this study reflects the results of a youth demographic, this information is still relevant in assessing the mood of society as a whole.

The Israeli Fatalism

Yesterday, I got to catch up with a friend I hadn't spoken with in months, and as I was regaling her with tales about life in Jerusalem, she asked a very interesting question that I think I've danced around in previous posts but haven't ever directly addressed before.

I described to her daily scenes that are almost mediocre in a typical Israeli's life, such as the stopping of traffic for the blowing up of suspicious packages, people toting guns up and down the streets as if it were the most normal thing, and soldiers patrolling the Old city streets.

She then asked me that with all the conflict surrounding Jerusalem, if there is a sense of fatalism that permeates the attitudes of the residents here.

This idea of fatalism is very interesting in the context of Israel. The philosophy of fatalism to me implies an almost defeatist attitude because it is being resigned to fate. I understand how any non-Israeli would think this way about Israel. The omnipresence of metal detectors, checkpoints and security guards are frequent reminders of the potential for dangerous situations to arise at any moment. And the media is a constant barrage of images around the conflict.

Like my tour guide in the Golan said: life is hard in Israel because the people here are perpetually reminded that they have to fight to exist on this land, but that's just the way it is. Life moves on.

I would say that Israelis accept that they must fight to survive, but I do not believe that they are resigned to this fact. Rather, it is a sense of incredible nationalism and pride instilled since birth and reinforced with three years in the military that drives this unquestionable sacrifice for their country. Death is but a small part of life, and they will fight to live even if it means they might die.

It seems that while Israel is fated to fight many more battles before attaining the chimera of peace, Israelis are hardly succumbing to others to predetermine its fate.

Most Israelis I've talked to are jaded by the idea of compromise and peace any time soon. In fact, Arab-Israelis and Palestinians are also disenchanted by the prospects of peace within their own government as well as in Israel. Like I've said before, it has become a zero-sum game. Terrorists and extremists on both sides continuously doom any hopes for peace.

Israelis seem to think it is fate that Israel will always be antagonized by the surrounding Arab and/or Muslim countries, but they will not surrender without a tough fight. And as history has proven, they sure can hold their own for such a tiny country.