The Roadblock

In the introduction to her book History On Trial, Deborah Lipstadt describes an experience she had while studying abroad at the Hebrew University on Mount Scopus in the mid-sixties. One day she decided that she was determined to visit the Western Wall. Pre-1967, the Kotel (Western Wall), despite also being in Jerusalem and less than an hour's walk away, was in Jordan. Lipstadt came up with this crazy plan for her winter break to travel through Lebanon, England, Syria, and into Jordan (I forget the exact order) and make her way to the Kotel. Part of this plan involved "losing" her passport so that there would be no evidence when entering Jordan that she had been in Israel. Winter break was a good time to do this because there were certain times of the year (such as Christmas) that Mandelbaum Gate was open for Jordanian pilgrims to pass through into Israel, thereby providing Lipstadt with a way back to her dorm (Mandelbaum Gate is on what is now Route 1, about halfway between the Old City and Mount Scopus). From the Jordanian side of the gate she could easily see Mount Scopus and the nearby neighborhoods she would always take walks in. The Western Wall, such an important part of history and her Jewish heritage, was so close yet so far. She felt it was unfair to be kept from it (she then writes about coming back, just a few years later).

I think I wrote about this introduction in another blog post. I read it around the time I was beginning my degree at Hebrew University. Every time I travel there and back I pass by what was once Mandelbaum Gate. This critical checkpoint from just over forty years ago is now represented by a pillar surrounded by tracks for the future lightrail (I actually did see trains today but the seats were still covered in plastic wrap). I always think wow, this is incredible, I'm just gliding through on a bus- no passport or anything. Then from the rooftops of Hebrew University I get a stunning panoramic view of the city- a humbling experience indeed.

One doesn't have to read the news that often to figure out that the future of a united Jerusalem is a point of contention in the "peace process" (not putting it in quotes to be political... okay, maybe I am). Same goes for keeping the current borders of Israel (one vs. two state "solution"... oh there I go being political again- doesn't happen much, does it?). Checkpoints are still very much an everyday part of life in Israel. A few weeks ago I went to friends in the Gush for shabbat. It took just over a half hour to get there from my apartment in southern Jerusalem- I went up the street, got on a bus, rode it for less than ten minutes, crossed the street to the hitchhiking point/ bus stop, found someone driving to Neve Daniel, got in, and before I knew it I was there. The driver was originally from the US- not that I ever found out his name. I'm sure we know some of the same people. There is a checkpoint before the Gush but we barely had to stop. The driver glanced out the window, made eye contact with a soldier, and was waved through. No problem whatsoever. When you travel on a bus, a soldier will come on board and do a quick walk through but even that never takes so long. When my co-workers (native Israelis) found out where I went they were shocked- wasn't I scared? Isn't it dangerous? I thought they were being very silly. It's really amazing though. The Gush to them is an entirely foreign area. A few weeks later I went to the Gush again for Thanksgiving dinner. My friend invited his friends from the army. They were also in awe at being over the green line. To them this was a huge deal. It was like crawling into the wilderness. There is a lot I can say about my co-workers and their views on certain things, but that isn't the point of this post...

This year at Hebrew University I am in a class where the goal is to construct a project that will help other people. A couple weeks ago I missed a class at which a woman came to talk about a center she works at in East Jerusalem for children at risk. From my understanding these centers (which are all over Israel) are kind of like Israel's version of Head Start in the US. This was not my group's original plan, but my partners were impressed with the presentation and one of them (who is Arab) was asked directly by this woman to do her project there. The other two of us agreed, began researching what we could do to help based on what we knew about these centers in general, and today we were supposed to go visit and see for ourselves what we'd be dealing with.

The head of the center (the one who came to speak to the class) said she would come pick us up at school and drive us back. Because the center is in East Jerusalem, the Egged buses don't go there and it is not somewhere we would just walk over to, despite it being just a few minutes from the University. She picked us up as planned, we drove maybe two minutes, and then... road block. Our driver had started driving right through as she's used to when a soldier stopped us. Apparently this roadblock was only just set up because of recent events I am unclear about. She was perturbed. She said she was just driving to work. We said we were studies from the university out doing a project. Obviously this didn't matter to the soldiers.

You hear a lot about roadblocks in Israel on the news, so I must point out that these soldiers were perfectly cordial. They looked at all our IDs and told us that the driver and my Arab classmate were free to go in, but me and the other Israeli were not going to be let by so easily. It is not that we were forbidden to enter the area. The soldier informed us that if we did enter and something happened (I won't get into the examples he gives- they just aren't pleasant) the army would not be responsible for our safety. It would be a risk that we, as citizens of a democratic country and therefore allowed to make our own decisions, would choose to make. Discouraged, we turned around and drove back towards the school.

After discussing it amongst ourselves and our professor, we have decided not to continue with this project. While many Israeli professionals travel into the area every day, it is not something we can be sure we can do throughout the year. It is unfortunate that we can't, and the woman from the center will certainly be disappointed. I think she was the most put off by what happened. At the roadblock my Arab classmate nodded in quiet understanding while the other Israeli and I looked at each other, sitting together in the back seat, looked at each other wondering what to do. It is unfortunate that we are being kept from this experience and that the children at the center are being kept from the help and services we can provide. We were the perfect group for this project, each of us coming from a slightly different professional background that put together would have worked wonderfully.

When we got back to school, we just laughed about it. I'm glad we could. Here we were, two Arabs and two Israelis, laughing about the harsh realities of the country we live in. I joked that I would add it to the list of things not to tell my parents, though they will probably be relieved to find out I will not be doing a project in East Jerusalem. They are so supportive of me living in Israel that I try not to do anything to worry them, but this was an experience I really wanted to have. While there are so many parts of Israel I would never think of going (or am simply prohibited as an Israeli from going) because of safety concerns, I guess I never thought it could happen in a place next door to where thousands of Arabs and Jews study together every day. I want to believe that we could have gone through with this project and everything would have been fine- and maybe it would have. It just takes one person with a rock in his or her hand to turn everything upside down. It is my democratic right to choose to go where I please, but it is also my democratic right to choose to be safe. My co-workers' fears of the Gush are not unfounded, but I do wish they could speak about it more optimistically.

Our plan B (which was our original Plan A) is to work on programming for teenagers who are hard of hearing. My Israeli and Arab partners both have connections in their respective communities. We are hoping that we can provide both a service for deaf teenagers, and an opportunity for Arab and Israeli teens to communicate with each other. I am in this class because of my failed plan to write a thesis. I knew that doing a project instead wouldn't be a bad alternative, but I felt that I wanted to do something on my own and not have to deal with class and dealing with others. Each week I realize what a great experience this will be. My group is the only mixed Arab/Jewish group and the only one that is doing something with both communities. When I was first looking into schools I posted on a listserv asking about David Yellin, a teacher's college I considered going to. Someone wrote back telling me that I should be aware that there are Arabs there. I held back from responding, but I was thinking "Arabs wanted to study to be educators too? That sounds wonderful." It is such a positive experience being in a program of both Arabs and Jews. Great things can happen here.