Dave Adair Photography: "My civic, moral, Jewish, humanitarian duty"

"It is my civic, moral, Jewish, humanitarian duty. Our job is to make sure that our society doesn't run away from our responsibility, and doesn't cover up the ramifications of this reality."
~ Yehuda Shaul, co-founder of Breaking the Silence, ex-Israeli soldiers speaking out against the occupation of Palestine

"Don't exaggerate when you tell people of this place. Just tell them what you saw. That's enough."
~ Omar Hajajeh, Palestinian resident of al-Walaja

Of the many great mysteries in my life, here is the latest: how is that it's become socially unacceptable to have a frank and honest discussion about the Israeli government and their policies? Over these last few weeks I've talked about Israel to quite a few people, and invariably they lower their voice to make sure no one overhears that they're talking about, (shhhhhh...) Israel!

When I left Israel/Palestine a month ago I was feeling oddly optimistic, for the worst of reasons. It seemed blindingly obvious, from my limited experience, that Palestinians are being treated so badly, in so many ways, by the Israeli government that it's completely unsustainable. It just can't continue. I think that no reasonable, thinking person would spend time in the occupied territories, hear their stories and come away thinking, wow, the Israeli government is doing a great job. Keep it up! They've been "keeping it up" in the last month by threatening to build 20,000 new settlement homes, and they're in the process of forcibly resettling 40,000-70,000 Bedouins from their "unauthorized" villages.

But we're not "allowed" to talk about it, somehow, for reasons no one is sure. And it's uncomfortable anyway, so we don't really want to know OR to talk about it. So the injustice continues. Which is just how the government wants it.

Don't be that guy. Learn about it, talk about it, express your opinion. Be brave, and be true to your ideals.

Love!
Dave

This lovely man is Issa Souf, a Palestinian who was paralyzed after being shot in 2001 by an Israeli soldier as he stepped outside his house. Two years later he wrote this to the two soldiers involved: "I remember you. I remember your confused face when you stood above my head and wouldn't let people come to my aid. I remember how my voice grew weaker when I said to you, 'Be humane and let my parents help.'" Later he wrote: "My resolve to continue living is also a desire to reach others with my message to understand that life is a gift that should not be tampered with, and that all people are equal on this earth, and that power should exist to protect justice and defend it and not to create oppression or to dominate other weaker people." Read an article from 2001 about when he was shot.

Speaking of lovely, Moran listens to Issa speak. Moran is in Ethiopia right now volunteering for three months in an orphanage. Lucky orphans.

Zohar Lavie, who formed SanghaSeva with her partner Nathan to promote "meditation in action" retreats around the world. This was the eighth "Being Peace" retreat in Israel and Palestine. They also run the leprosy work retreat in India where I'm heading next week for the third year in a row. I'm so happy and grateful for the work they do. Inspired, even!

Hadar, from Israel.

Palestinian kids on the street as we walk from one village to another.

This is the Palestinian village of Deir Istiya in the West Bank, where we spent six nights. Something like 4,000 residents, and they're all made up of 14 extended families. It's interesting to look at it on Google Maps streets: http://goo.gl/maps/mYQrY, where no roads are shown, versus the Google Maps satellite, where you can see roads aplenty: http://goo.gl/maps/CtDCI. What do you suppose is up with that?

Cute kids trying to figure out what we're doing. Hint: we don't know what we're doing!

My wise younger brother Assaf, who I spent a lot of time with in India last year, speaks pretty good Arabic as he hangs with the local kids. He was the only one in the group who knows Arabic.

Donkey jail, perhaps.

Oddly, (he says conspiratorially,) there are no signs to Palestinian villages. But every Israeli settlement, it seems, regardless of how small, has a sign. Yizhar is the name of the settlement with the hard-core Israeli settlers who had attacked olive farmers and their foreign helpers the day before. We came on this day to try to keep it from happening again. On Google Maps, the streets are included for this settlement: http://goo.gl/maps/AZhWm, but none for the much larger Palestinian villages nearby. What do you suppose is up with that?

The settlement is at the top of this hill, as they almost always are. We're walking from the road up to the olive groves that we'll be helping with. According to Wikipedia, "The inhabitants of Yitzar have a reputation as being among the most extreme Israeli settlers and regularly clash with local Palestinian civilians. The settlement is at the forefront of the settler movement's so called "price tag" policy which calls for attacks against Palestinians in retaliation for actions of the Israeli government against West Bank settlements."

This young Palestinian farmer came flying across the field on his horse, bareback, and we were sure he was about to run us over before he stopped on a dime and greeted us. He showed us the wounds on his leg where he was attacked the day before.

Those are Israeli soldiers, sent to keep distance between the Palestinian farmers, who are picking olives on their own lands, and the Israeli settlers, who think God gave all of the land to the Jews. This was taken from our "lookout" spot, where we had someone posted all day watching to see if any settlers were coming down the hill. Armed with metal poles like the day before. To beat us with! Surreal, even though they didn't come this day.

Recently burned olive trees, owned by the Palestinians, burned by the settlers.

Back in Deir Istiya, we're entertained by neighbor and his full-of-it son.

Our host is a wedding singer with a booming voice and outgoing personality. Someone said he looked like Tom Jones and that's how we referred to him the whole week.

Our last day of picking olives was with gentle Zuhir, who was in previous photos. His wife is quite ill and his teenage son refuses to do anything but play video games, so we did our best to help him out with the trees down this line.

The economics of these two smooshed-together entities, Israel and Palestine, are so different. You'd hardly see a donkey in Israel, and here it's just a normal way of getting around.

As we wait for our ride at the end of the day, a Palestinian woman walking down the road stops to have a look.

Electricity, olive trees, and the sun.

A proud looking kid from near our house in Deir Istiya.

Tom Jones' son again and his sister, in their super-hero pose.

Do you remember Shaul from the previous newsletter? He was the settler that we all wanted to dislike, but couldn't, dang it. One of the rabbis from Rabbis for Human Rights just had Shaul perform his marriage ceremony. Generally speaking, settlers and Rabbis for Human Rights are working for opposite goals, and they had a settler perform his marriage. Beautiful. (Yes, by the way, those are dreadlocks.)

OK, last story. This Israeli settlement is near the Palestinian village of al-Walaja, and the Israeli authorities decided to completely encircle the village as part of the "West Bank Barrier," a tall security barrier, sometimes made of stone and sometimes of wire. After protests, they agreed to reduce the circle to 330 degrees instead of 360.

Before we headed into the village, our hired driver, who we didn't know, bought us a bunch of this amazing fresh bread. He said he was happy to see that we were doing the work we were doing.

This calm and steady Palestinian man, Omar Hajajeh, owns a small house outside of where the government wanted to build the barrier. He steadfastly refused through immense pressure and periodic harassment, and the government ended up building a tunnel that goes only to this house. According to this UN article-that-you-should-read, a gate will be installed, and "the family’s guests will have to coordinate their visit with the Israeli authorities some 12 hours in advance of their arrival."

Omar told us, "Don't exaggerate when you tell people of this place. Just tell them what you saw. That's enough." When asked why he put up such a fight to live in this isolated little house, he said, "Even if you have just one tree that you planted with your own hands, it's not a prison. There's a deep connection with the place, and if you don't have it, it's hard to understand."