One Week Down, Three to Go…

Today, I finished my first week of work at HUP. I have never worked a 45 hour week before so this was a very new experience for me. Including travelling on the train and driving to the train station, my actual work week was 55 hours long. I helped to raise $2,500 (I’m on track to meet my goal of $10,000) and I submitted applications for a number of patients so the money should continue to roll in next week. Needless to say, I am quite tired; but I am very happy that I chose to work at Penn for my senior project. It has allowed my to make a more educated decision whether or not I want to go into medicine. This has only reaffirmed my faith that medicine is the career for me. One thing that I realized today is that hospitals never close. I’m sure that as you are reading this, you’re thinking yeah of course hospitals never close. But this never exactly clicked for me until I was leaving at 5:30. As I was walking out of the front door of the hospital with a fair crowd of people, there was another group of people walking in, ready to start their day. There is no mass exodus from the hospital, there will always be a staff of people working there and that thought comforts me. As a doctor, I won’t be the last person in the office and I love that.

I have been regularly attending meetings and conferences as a part of my job. It is very nice because not only will this help me accomplish my goal of learning about the oncological branch of medicine, but there is always great catered food there. I attended one on how to treat VIP patients (fabulously wealth ones), one on hospice care and terminal patients and a few others. I couldn’t believe what I heard at the VIP patient meeting, apparently there are people that come to an outpatient part of the hospital and are surprised that they have to wait at all. Understandably, this can be nerve-wracking for nurses and doctors. But there is another special aspect to these patients. When the pass away, they have the potential to make large donations back to the hospital. This is how new buildings are built and how hospitals grow and develop. The meeting on hospice care amazed me and almost brought me to tears at one point. It discussed whether or not to tell people that they are going to die and the involvement of the family. Some people brought up cases of patients at CHOP as young as three years old. I am sorry that I can’t tell the stories that they told. HIPAA law makes it a federal crime to break patient-doctor (or me) confidentiality. I can not imagine telling the family of a three-year old child that they are going to die so I will not go into pediatrics. People discussed whether or not to tell the child that they were terminal and at what age can children comprehend the concept of death. This brought the reality of dying right in front of my face. It occurs all the time in a hospital and could happen to anyone at any point. I will have to learn to accept this better or this will be a difficult four weeks.

-Matt

In Fante?

Things are starting to become normal in Ghana. We are starting to get into a routine with school and I can assure you that we are all working VERY hard. It seems that everyone’s classes are going well and all of the kids are really warming up to us!

Copp and I had a class that was rather difficult to work with, but today we had a real breakthrough with them. We asked them to start writing their own rap or song and they all handed in beautiful pieces of this amazing poetry. They wrote about their love for soccer and their families and for God and it was really touching to read the words that all of the kids wrote. In our first class, I have grown especially close to a young boy named Solomon. Those that have been to Ghana know that “taking me as a sister” is a very big honor and quite a compliment. Well, Solomon has taken me as his sister and his pen pal. He has asked to see pictures of all of my friends and family. I have taken close to 300 pictures already, so I promise that I will have plenty when I get home. The cutest thing is when kids write notes and hand them to you during class, they get so excited and it is the sweetest thing. There is this amazing girl in one of my classes named Lydia and she has been so helpful. Overall, the kids have been one of the greatest parts of this trip. They are all beautiful and amazing and I will miss every one of them when we leave.

Yesterday, after school, we made cement blocks as part of our service. I don’t like manual labor but making blocks was so much fun! I don’t know if it was because I am in Ghana, but building blocks was great! Some of the boys came over to help us because apparently we were moving too slowly. It was hard work but I actually loved it. After that we took a walk into the village, Ajumako, and we walked into a nice soda bar thing. There was great Ghanaian music playing and Eva, NyAsia and I started dancing. We were immediately sought after by a random guy but then he turned his sights to Rebecca. He proposed to her and she declined but we wouldn’t give up so T. Michael had a conversation with him. It was great fun.

We have been learning a lot of Fante! That is one of my favorite parts. I love learning the language. It is customary in Ghana to take a name based on the day which you were born, long story short, my Fante name is Kosia, it is a lovely name for girls that are born on Sunday! It is so funny because every time you ask someone how to say something, they ask, “In Fante?” It is very funny.

I have grown close to a boy who works in our house named Bright. He is such a nice boy and he deserves a shout out on my blog.

I have to go because a lot of other people want to use the computer, but I hope to tell the rest soon.

Laura, thanks for keeping up, I love you and I miss you a lot :]

Becca and Jordyn, would a facebook message hurt every now and then? :]

Much love,

Jordan

Day 4

Spent the day touring another Kibbutz (MIshmar HaEmek). It was kind of relaxing to get away from intensive learning about the conflict; but then again, everything ties back in some way to the conflict. What an interesting concept, for the most part unlike anything we see in the U.S. The only comparable things to Kibbutzim in America that I know of are “intentional Quaker communities,” and other religious communities I’m sure. Traditional Kibbutzim are socialist, self-sustaining communities that are completely atheist (Atheist? I was surprised). They center themselves around being under the umbrella of the Jewish people, not the Jewish religion. They still recognize and celebrate the Jewish holidays, but secularly, as a way to connect with their fellow Kibbutzniks, not for religious purposes. In fact, people are allowed to live with and have children with whomever they want, and religious marriages (which are the only marriages recognized by the Israeli state, not Civil Ceremonies, etc.) are not allowed to be performed within the Kibbutz. They have managed to create such an environment where they connect in their culture, tradition, and family. More and more now, though, Kibbutzim are privatizing and allowing higher salaries for some members over others. The sense that I got was that the traditional Kibbutzim look down upon those who have privatized. I don’t really know much beyond that what the differences between privatized and un-privatized Kibbutzim are.

Then we went to get a quick lunch. I had falafel, which was so good that I was convinced I’ve never actually had falafel until today. After lunch, we continued on our bus, and saw several areas. The parts that stuck out for me the most were where the wall and the Green Line differ. The Green Line is where Israel recognizes the West Bank, and the wall (which is instituted for security reasons, which is highly debated in itself) was intended to follow the Green Line. The wall is pushed into the West Bank side, usually to be able to absorb settlements into the Israeli side. This “limbo land” between the Green Line and the wall is where not only settlements are, but many Arab neighborhoods are as well.

We had a Shabbat dinner back at the Kibbutz we’re staying at, and had a quiet night. Turns out the guy we were with yesterday, who led our Shabbat dinner was on the Canadian National Olympic wrestling team and so was his friend who he brought along with him.

Also, I suggest checking out Meg’s blog from today about the graffiti on the Separation wall in Jerusalem that we saw on Day 2.

-Ari

Israel vs. The World

Through what I have listened to and seen, I am increasingly aware that Israel, politically, architecturally, and emotionally, is a country of walls. 

Today, I saw a check point for the first time. Most of the wall is not a cement structure; it is a set of three fences separated by obstacles. First, a fence topped with barbed wire, followed by a sand path, a road that is exclusively for security vehicles, more sand, then another two barbed-wire fences. The sand is meant to catch foot prints. They are monitored by video tapes and are mostly flawless. This seems like a high case of paranoia. 

But this paranoia is understandable. In a post-Holocaust society to a population most oppressed by the Holocaust, you would expect a sense of isolation. Isolated doesn’t begin to describe the feelings experienced. I’ve heard horrendous stories of racial oppression towards these people. An Israeli professor expressed to us that he desires a world where a Jewish state is not necessary. But, in his opinion, right now, the Jewish people need a safe place to live. Does that need to be exclusive? I don’t think so, and it doesn’t seem like most of our professors feel that way. He also spoke of his peaceful mother-in-law, a women who hates to see war, but is happiest when Israel is in one. It brings the country together as Jews. So often in Israel, they loose the sense of Jewish unity because of where you come from. 

We’ve been told that Israel considers itself the 51st state of America by some. That deeply disturbs me. Possibly because of the truth, in that so much of our policies are shaped by Israel, but also shape their state of life. 

The Israeli professor was confident in saying that the political mindset was Israel vs. the World. I feel sorry that they feel that way, but sort of understand it. This puts me in yet another conflicting position, what do these walls provide Israel? I certainly don’t support  home demolitions or settlements, and I don’t support a lot of Israel politically. But I support their concerns and desire for a safe land. 

So confused.

-Meg

The Wall Speaks

A soundbite of some of the graffiti on the Separation Wall:

“When ignorance reigns, Lives are lost.”

“Free Palestine”

“Welcome to Apartheid”

“Welcome to Ghetto Abu Dis”

“We are Humans”

“Wall = Landgrab”

“The hands that build can also tear down.”

“The dirt whispered, ‘I’m coming home.'”

 

These were found on a bit of the wall in a very impoverished Palestinian neighborhood being overlooked by a very wealthy Israeli settlement. The town was called Abu Dis. In this town, no-one comes to collect their trash for fear it is too dangerous or too hard to reach. It smelled like burnt garbage; truthfully, that is how they dispose of it, by burning. The extreme poverty here was something I wasn’t expecting, but it is visible, especially in contrast to the settlement just at the top of the hill. “Welcome to Ghetto Abu Dis”

-Meg

Introspective

First, I would like to say I haven’t blogged in a day because I was starting to feel very vulnerable about the process I am going through. I am in a very controversial part of the world, studying coexistence in a place where it may seem impossible, and I’m looking at it from angles that many people don’t get to see. The media is in control of how we at home perceive the information, and here, your location and language controls yours (mostly). I realize when talking about this I should choose my words carefully, which is very hard for me to do because I don’t even know what words I want to say, all of my own perceptions are being challenged. The more people I meet the heavier this conflict becomes to me, and that weight is hard for me to hold. Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m holding. 

-Meg

Grey

So I’ve decided that I can’t encompass all that I am learning everyday here in one blog post. It’s all so interweaved and “complicated” that it is literally impossible for me to communicate to you my experiences. From now on I’m going to try and communicate to you the themes that I encounter. The theme that I’ve brought from today was that everything is grey. People come to this area knowing the black and white. The agreements, disagreements, political documents, etc. What is impossible to understand or recognize until you get here is the human element. The emotions of the land are truly remarkable. So much love, so much pain, so much hate, and so much happiness. Today we talked to a woman named Lydia who lives on a Kibbutz and is heavily involved in the peace process. We were talking about the conflict and she told us that her conclusion was that one side needed to make the first move. I then asked her, “Who do you think is in a better position to make that move?” She paused, looked me right in the eyes, and smiled. She said,” twenty years ago I would have that answer for you, but today I don’t.” Lydia then went on to tell me about how one day, 20 years ago, when she was driving to work she witnessed a Palestinian car pull out and smash into a public Israeli bus. That day she saw six Israelis burn to death in front of her eyes. She then said a few years later her son, who was in the army, was in a coma at a hospital because of a gun wound that he received during the war. She said a few days after her son entered the hospital a Palestinian man who was also fighting in the war, but on the other side, entered the same hospital. She said the shot Palestinian man lay next to her son for days and received the same service and care that he did. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. When we study the conflict it is impossible to account for the emotions of the people who live here until you come here. Not everything is black and white, in fact most of it is grey.

“It’s Complicated”

Day 4

This trip has been intense thus far yes, but everything reached a new high when we approached one of the busiest checkpoints between Israel and the West Bank. Sitting on the bus we were told by our Welsh-born Israeli guide, Lydia, that there are absolutely no pictures at the checkpoint. While we’ve been talking about many serious topics surrounding the conflict this was the first time I felt such an intense sense of urgency in her voice. As we began thinking about it, however, we wondered why documenting these checkpoints is so forbidden. If the Israelis wholly believe that what they are doing is both legal and necessary to the security of the Jewish people why do they feel the need to assure there is no evidence?

The moment we stepped off the bus was the first time I felt truly uncomfortable. Lydia told us the soldiers were just barely okay with letting her bring groups of foreigners into the area to witness the checkpoints and I could so palpably feel the tension. As we stood by the entrance I felt such a strong urge to know each one of their stores in-depth. I wanted to know if the men coming back from their work in construction were heading back to a wife and four children, or an aging father, or a home full of warm and boisterous extended family. I wanted to  know how they felt each time they had to go out of their way and pay extra simply to make their living. Was it worth it for the young male students traveling to get a good education? Would they be able to live their passions or would they be turned away at another checkpoint? To me it seems like such a lack of independence. Melissa told us that ” it all depends on the whim of the Israeli soldier”. How can one person, one young man usually, hold that power over another young man, the only difference between them being that one is Israeli and one is Palestinian? So often one will describe a “security fence” and one will describe a “separation wall” while talking about the same issue. Even between Lydia and Hazam (our Palestinian driver) I can feel the tension of the conflict. They may have sympathies for or a desire to understand the other side but they are still working on either side of the divide. The complexities and intricacies of the view points continue to amaze and overwhelm me.

The more Palestinian faces we see trudging through the checkpoint on their elongated joinery home the less I want to leave. Despite how unwelcome and out-of-place I was I felt as though I could have stayed there simply watching forever. How many families will I see pull out their identification and submit to an occupation before I lose the abilities to see the Israeli side? Similarly, how long might it take for me to see enough possible bombers get caught before I understand the Israeli justification? It seemed impossible last night, but the conflict has only gotten more real as another day goes by. In this reality sits a seemingly vast extent of “It’s complicated”. I cannot think of a better or more frustrating word to describe what I’ve learned, seen, and felt on the beginnings of this trip.

-Cherylyn

Hope?

Day Three

I’m not sure how to describe the emotions coursing through me in this moment. All I know is that that is exactly what they are doing, coursing. I can feel them in my skull like a headache that won’t go away. They inhale and exhale with my breath. They make my knees tremble and my cold feet colder. While I’m sure I’m overwhelmed I can’t say quite with what. Is it the frustration at how each piece of information makes the conflict seem a little bit more unsolvable? Is it the fact that my mind so badly wants to be able to pick a side while I know there is no right side to pick? I see Israelis living in fear after hundreds of years of persecution, living with the mindset that it is them against the world, that they must fight first and empathize later. In what feels like the blink of an eye I see Palestinians living in the constant oppression of occupation. I see them desperately trying to hold on to the land that has been in their family for generation all the time knowing their existence on it has been deemed illegal. Most of all, however, I see a loss of hope, a creation of hate, and an unbinding sense of ignorance.

“I hope one day there is no need for the existence of an Israeli state.” were the words of our Canadian born, Israeli guide, David with the implication that, for now, a Jewish state is deserved and necessary. He uttered them in that matter of fact way that made me certain he believed them. Do the Jews have the right to a solely Jewish state? If so what does this mean for the hundreds of thousands of Palestinians who are currently living has half-rate citizens? They have been separated from their families by a concrete wall twice the size of that which separated the Germans in Berlin. They are forced to abandon land, lose jobs, leave schools because a 15 minute commute suddenly turned into an hour and half. “Welcome to apartheid” they graffiti on that concrete that so definitively changed their lives.

Here I am experiencing this with the certainty that lives are being lost and rights are being denied. Here I am on my oversized and over-comfortable tour bus looking down at the people whose suffering I can’t even begin to understand. I am privileged in ways beyond my comprehension and as I look through that glass and look into the curious eyes staring back at me I wonder what I am doing here. Not that I’m too uncomfortable or too out of place or too overwhelmed. I am simply wondering what I am going to do about it. And as I sit and stare I am brought back to my previous trips to Bangladesh. I may be four years older and innumerable experiences wiser than when I went on those trips but I am just as helpless. More than anything I saw suffering. I saw children maimed on the street in Bangladesh that I knew had been purposefully harmed so that they would make more money begging for the sick adults who “cared” for them. Images like these, though four years old now, will never be far from right behind my eyes. My third day attempting to understand the Israel/Palestine conflict by witnessing it first hand and I know this trip will be the same. What will I do for them? How can I help? Most importantly where can I find hope?

Day Three

We woke up this morning and got on our bus to a kibbutz called Ramat Hashofet, where we had a lecture/discussion with an Israeli originally from Canada (This is where we’re staying tonight and tomorrow night). This was the first exposure we really had to any Israeli issues, delivered from a fairly left-wing point of view. We went through a brief history of the founding of Israel, especially the various waves of immigrations, or Aliyahs. One of the first groups to make Aliyah to Israel was the German Jews, who quickly established themselves as the “upper class, cultured” citizens, using Westernization as an identifier. All subsequent groups to come to Israel, whether or not they acted with Western manners, if they were racially different, were treated as lower class. Early on, this hit such an extreme level that many immigrant Jewish children (especially Arabs or Asians) were stripped of their identity–sent to schools where they were only to speak in Hebrew and forget their own traditions and cultures, despite the fact that they were also Jewish. This was similar in almost every way to the Americanization of Native American children by the missionaries in the early 1800’s.

One place we stopped today on our way back from lunch in Barta’a, which is an Arab town through which the Green Line passes, was a point from which you could see both the Mediterranean and the West Bank at the same time. From that perspective, it’s easy to see why Israel can feel a bit nervous, having such a narrow country and surrounded by hostile countries. There we saw a drawing of Handala (google it) scratched into stone.

The major political party with all the clout is called the Shas; these are the so-called “ultra-Orthodox” Jews, who are sought out by other parties of the Parliament to form coalitions. For the most part, the Shas will back most law proposals set forth by the smaller party in these coalitions on the condition that there be special treatment of the ultra-Orthodox Jews in the state. The main example here is that their children do not have to serve in the army like everyone else if they are engaged in heavy religious studies. The Shas established power early on by going village by village and donating money to build schools and help communities. In return, they gained loyalty from the people and have maintained it ever since.

The problems within Israel are not well publicized. One of the biggest problems they face is not external, but internal; it is a question of identity. The problem here boils down to two main questions: Are Jews defined as a people or a religion? and Should Israel be run with a separation of church and state? Sam’s blog highlighted the question of people or religion and the 1/8th rule that if someone is 1/8 Jewish, then they can be a citizen of Israel, but this leads to the attraction of some people who are simply looking for a place to live; in fact, many completely secular people qualify under the 1/8th rule and celebrate Christmas! The early Zionist movement was even unclear about this question, and it is a major one if Israel is to move forward effectively. The fact that Israel faces such a question about its very identity reminds us how young of a country it is. I need to constantly remind myself of that; it’s a strange concept when considering also what huge impact its politics and actions have on the lives of so many people and other countries’ foreign policy. The next question arises from the first. As a country established as a Jewish State, it is understandable that they would have laws according to the Jewish faith, and have a political system appropriate to such circumstances. This is a country established for specific purposes, and if you don’t like it, you can leave. However, the Christians, Muslims and secular Jews can feel infringed upon by these laws. As a relatively minor example, many people who live here who would otherwise eat shellfish have never done so because those products are not Kosher and therefore are not imported or caught from the Mediterranean. This is home to many people, and the imposition of laws based on a faith other than their own is certainly oppression.

Now that I’ve had the opportunity to think about part of the Israeli side, I am starting to think a one state solution is best, because there are people here who are clearly not Zionists or even Jewish and this is their home also. This will take significant sacrifice from the Israeli politicians (consisting mostly of the conservative Shas), and is likely to never happen.

Very significant afterthought: Why does no one consider the “pure” Zionists who believe that there won’t be a true Jewish state until the coming of the Messiah? The bible speaks of Zion and the coming of the Messiah as two things that come hand-in-hand.

Also, in Jerusalem, I noticed that there was an abundance of street cats, so starting on our first full day, when we actually went out for the first time, I started a cat count. Yesterday was 27. Today was 12. The difference was city vs. countryside.

-Ari