Living/Working in Bethlehem... and being female...

Bethlehem (the birthplace of Jesus and location for the "Christmas of all Christmases") is beautiful, scenic, peaceful, clean and I LOVE IT.... everything except for three main things. First, there are the refugee camps for people who can not return to homes they left/fled from in one of two wars, or were displaced from by the separation wall. These refugee camps are sad, deserted places to walk through despite having been made more livable as refugees began to accept that they would not be returning home any time soon. Second, there is the separation wall and the difficulties it creates. Every day I hear stories and write about events related to the wall that are extremely heartbreaking (see pics). And third, there's this "little" problem I have of having been born female...

Thanks to some genetic "luck" though, I have features that either fool people into believing I'm Arab or leave them questioning long enough that they decide not to harass me. So, unlike every blond and non-Arab looking western girl I've met here, I haven't experienced any of the following:

1) Getting stoned by little boys; 2) Walking by a guy who whispers to another: "Ask her if she's clean"; 3) Getting kicked by a guy who then asks if you like it and will do it to him. Then getting kicked by him again; 4) Getting called a "bitch" or "whore"

Bethlehem is safe and these incidents never escalate because these men don't want anyone finding out about how uneducated and embarrassing they act. In fact, the worst thing you could do to a "shabab" (youth) is scream "Where is your mother?" and "Who is your family?". Top that off with knocking on a few random doors and they will freak out and bow down to you. Why? Because involving their families, bringing shame upon them, and giving everyone in town reason to talk and look down upon them is the most horrible thing that could happen.

I wish I knew more Arabic because I'm sure that I've walked by groups of guys who have whispered things about me. As for the one's who've said things I understood like "I looooove you" to partially practice their English, partially show their other male friends how cool they are, they haven't been worth the fight. Neither have the "Bienvenidos!! Espanola? Espanola??" "Bela Italiana!" or "Welcome" I get from every outdoor salesman I walk by. But, if in this next week, or the next time I'm in the middle east, I encounter one of these shababs, you bet I'm ready to do more damage than my usual staring (like they do to women) to them uncomfortable as I walk by.

Why aren't there girls on the street with these shababs? Why don't they get to play outside and have a childhood like boys do? And why don't they get to pray by the mosque instead of inside a house? Well.... That's just not the way women are viewed here. Women are below men. Servants. And sure, all the Christians living in Bethlehem are more liberal about this than the Muslims, but even they devalue their women which is why all I hear are married women complaining - complaining about all they have to do and how under-appreciated they are and how they can't get a divorce because it's not allowed.
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So, as I walk home at night, I am usually the only one on the street give or take some shababs. Once the sun goes down, the city dies and the pedestrians go with it, a cultural phenomenon that also results from violence that has gone on historically and a curfew imposed during the Intifadas (two Muslim uprisings against Israeli occupation that also involved Christians and all other residents of the Palestinian territories).

After all my traveling, I really enjoyed going to sleep at 8pm every night, but now I'm starting to miss "life". Yes I've met other people working here and we've made our occasional trips to Jerusalem to spice things up a bit, or gone to a "salsa night" event (thrown by Christians who drink and "party" in Bethlehem and now recognize me walking down the street from facebook pictures...) but I still miss certain aspects of the West. I miss not having to deal with shababs despite tying my hair back, wearing my glasses and looking as unattractive as possible. I miss walking down the street at night and feeling safe, free and not "rebellious" or "crazy" for leaving "the protected home zone." I miss being able to get to nightlife without having to go through a wall, waste time at a checkpoint, and plan my life so that there is some way to get back. Oh, and how could I forget, I miss walking around without seeing soldiers younger than me holding M-16's. They don't exactly "make me feel safe" so much as scare me into submission.
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JOURNALISM INTERNSHIP:
Other than that, I LOVE my job!!!!! I'm working for Ma'an: http://beth.maannews.net/en/, the largest Palestinian news source. Given that Palestinians are one of the most heavily reported on groups in the world, it's great to work for the largest news source that conveys their voice and even competes with AP and Reuters for being the first to get out news.

I work in the English department writing articles, re-doing stories that are translated from the Arabic site, editing, and seeing some of these events for myself. We are very picky about staying neutral and preventing from using words you'd often find on Fox News. We know our goal is to get the news out to the West and we do our best to make the events understandable by putting background info into the articles.

I've learned how to write Reuters style articles, report stories, and write in the factual language reporters do. I've also learned how differently stories can be twisted by the media (next blog). There is never a shortage of events to work with here.
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HOME LIFE:
I rented a room in the house of a Christian Palestinian family. It's beautiful. I love the material houses are made of here. I also love my balcony, the view, the roof I drink my morning tea on, the random rabbits that are on that roof, and most importantly, the family.

I chose to live with them because I wanted to have privacy, but also get a real experience and boy did I get my money's worth. Their hospitality along with those of all Palestinians (not out on the streets) reminds me of what I have to deal with in Romania. You can't go anywhere without being served some tea, snacks, or food. Every opportunity possible, I am asked - no, told I'm hungry and given food. Combined with the quiet sedentary lifestyle, it does great things for my body...

I've also never been so Christian... Every time I'm introduced, my name is "Ann" (because "ana" means "I") - "She is Romanian and a Christian like us!" Who knew? But I guess that's the "safe" thing to be here. In the words of Antony (the man of the house who drinks Tecate beer every night), "All the time, Muslims and Jews fighting here. I just want a little piece of peace. A little piece of peace."

Mary, the woman of the house can be described with the following words: "Habibi" (loved one/sweety) this, "Habibi" that. "Habibi, why you buy shampoo, toothpaste, Q-tips, anything? I have I have! You use mine. I give you!" "You hungry? I give you" "You want carpet in room? Feet cold? I give you I give you". Mary feeds me, has given me scarves for the cold, sewn my torn clothing, and is nothing I ever expected to be included in the rent.

In Antony's words "You will be very happy here with Mary and me. Listen to me. You will be VERY VERY happy here. VERY VERY happy." And, I am :)

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