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Second Semester Reflections


Generally, I speak about my experience at the Arava Institute with pride. I have made close friendships with Palestinians, Israelis, and Jordanians, while in all my other trips to Israel I have been exclusively with American Jews. As I am exposed to many personal stories and different narratives, I have learned the power of empathetic listening and challenged myself to put myself in someone else’s shoes. On the program, we share a lot of experiences together—we dance together, study together, cook together, and hang out together—and labels do not matter. We are all people who want to make a positive difference in the world.

Lately, however, I have become a bit disillusioned from the political discussions in my program, and I feel a bit distant from the aspects that I love about my program. My frustration largely stems from my program’s Peace Building trip last week. During the peace building trip, we visited Ammunition Hill (site of a 1967 battle), East Jerusalem, an abandoned Palestinian village called Lifta, and Yad Vashem (Israel’s Holocaust museum), in an attempt to get different narratives and a “balanced” perspective. The first part of the trip was very interesting, and I think it met different definitions of “balanced.” However, the visit to Yad Vashem left me questioning my respect and trust of others on my program.

First, to touch on my visit to Lifta, the only remaining abandoned Palestinian village—it was a very heartbreaking and confusing site for me. Lifta is a Palestinian village outside of Jerusalem in which some residents were evacuated by the Arab army and others left out of fear during Israel’s 1948 War of Independence. The village is now part of Jerusalem’s park system, perhaps because a spring with a natural pool runs through the village. About a dozen houses still remain on the hillside along the spring. All of houses’ roofs have been demolished—some say so that the original residents cannot return and others say so that squatters cannot stay there.

An AIES alum who lives in East Jerusalem joined us and shared her family’s history: Her family abandoned their home in Lifta during the 1948 war and every week her family comes to take care of the house. Her family petitioned the Israeli government to return, but they cannot return under the current laws. Her story is tragic, and I wish history had been different. I wish the Israeli-Palestinian conflict had never been an ‘us versus them’ scenario, a zero sum game. Her story is something that I will continue to reflect about.

By the time my group got to Yad Vashem at the end of the trip, I felt drained. My group took the tour of the museum together, and some people in my group had never been exposed to Holocaust history. My tour started with one student asking if the anti-Semitism that led up to the Holocaust was justified….The tour ended with one of my Palestinian friends coming up to me and saying: “Wow, I had no idea there was a Jewish genocide like there was a Palestinian genocide.” Other comments that I heard: “I understand that the Holocaust was tragic, but it was not the Palestinian’s price to pay to deal with the aftermath. That was Germany’s responsibility.” “Why did we not visit a museum on the Naqba [the Palestinian expulsion in 1948]? I feel like our tour was really one-sided.” “Yad Vashem is a politicized museum.” You can leave those comments up to your own interpretation.

Since the trip, I have felt drained, sad, and largely numb. I am disappointed in my fellow program-mates because their ignorant remarks indicate to me that they do not believe in Israel’s fundamental right-to-exist. (My disappointment extends to my entire program, as no one responded to their comments.) I believe that the acknowledgment of Israel’s right-to-exist is the foundation of any peace talk along with the acknowledgement of Palestine’s right-to-exist. The Arava Institute is a peace program that lauds open dialogue and empathetic listening. I believe wholeheartedly in these values. Do my peers?

I am grateful for my unique experience, but I feel that it is difficult to be both pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian here. There is not really a space to show any pride for Israel, and political discussions permeate both my work and everyday life here. For my mental health, I will take a step back for now. When I am ready, I will speak up to my peers.


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