To Be In Solidarity, Picking Olives

One of the main activities during our trip was to be in solidarity with the Palestinian people through harvesting olives together.  “Since the beginning of the second Intifada in 2000, the olive harvest has been overshadowed by the Israeli policies of repression, closure, blockage of streets, confiscation of agricultural lands, as well as repeated attacks against Palestinian farmers by Israeli settlers. Now with the construction of the Apartheid Wall and the continuous expansion of Israeli settlements at the expense of agricultural land in occupied Palestine, many farmers are separated from their trees, and help is most needed.

Building on experience from previous years, the JAI and the ATG have planned a program for civil international solidarity with Palestinian people and farmers. The objective of this program is to mobilize as many people as possible for olive picking, especially in areas that are situated in proximity to Israeli settlements and bypass roads, in order to help Palestinian farmers harvest their olive trees which they might be unable to do without international support. Also, the event has brought  awareness to hundreds of people from many countries around the world about real life under the Israeli Military Occupation, and the experience itself was referred to by several participants as a life changing one” (See Alternative Tourism Group’s website).

These two days of olive picking actually turned out to be more than just being in solidarity with the Palestinian people.  We were part of a group of people from countries like Great Britain, Sweden, India, Spain, the Netherlands and other states within the the US.  Moving and very meaningful to me was the presence of Jewish people, some of them the children of Holocaust survivors.  As a South African it was an amazing experience to meet people from an older generation who came to South Africa in the eighties to be in solidarity with the oppressed who struggled under the joke of apartheid.

Maybe the richest experience was picking olives with a Palestinian farmer, while sitting together in the tree.  Although we could not understand each other’s language there was a common bond between the two of us as we share humanity in a culture where Palestinians are regarded as less than human.   It was as if somehow we understood one another, knowing that we are responsible for the other’s good will, me by helping him harvest olives and him by offering me hospitality in providing coffee, tea, and a wonderful meal of chicken, rice, and yogurt.

For that moment we all were in solidarity, citizens from so many nations around the world including Palestinians and Jews.  For that moment we realized our need for one another.  We saw one another as neighbors, partners in life whom we need to fully experience wholeness.  We need one another to be fully human!

Can We Be Silent?

These past two weeks we had to get used to the traffic coming to a standstill when we went through checkpoints, presenting our passports and on one occasion standing in line and have our luggage scanned and my suitcase searched.  This was not even at the airport, but just crossing from the West Bank into Israeli territory.  For us as Americans this is a way of life we had to get used to and really never did these past weeks, as we want freedom of movement.  Not so for Palestinians, as there are numerous “Israeli –only” access roads crisscrossing the West Bank.  In 2007 it even became illegal for Israelis driving these access roads to transport Palestinians in their vehicles without a permit.  Resembling modern-day apartheid pass laws, the Palestinian identification requirements to travel from one point to another prevent many people from moving freely from one place to another and thus separate families.  We have been very fortunate to have talked to numerous Palestinians these past weeks who live in the West Bank and have family in Jerusalem who they are unable to visit.  For those who can travel, the twenty mile journey from Ramallah to Jerusalem can take a whole day due to lines at checkpoints.

To me the aspect of the occupation that is even worse than apartheid  is the Israeli Apartheid Wall that will be over 400 miles when completed.  The irony is that the Israeli government most commonly calls it the separation fence.  Standing next to the so-called fence it was obvious to me that it was no fence but a wall that is as massive as 8 meters of solid concrete at some places.

Standing next to the wall it was very difficult to express my emotions as a deep sadness set in.  How can it be that the plight of a people can be unnoticed by the world?  Does the Israeli government regard Palestinians as human beings, as no human can treat another like this … the separation, the isolation, and the imprisonment in your country of birth.  As I stood there I felt claustrophobic behind the wall of concrete, and it was as if a deep urge to resist the humiliation of a people awakened in me.

This, according to Nelson Mandela, is what we as South Africans have to do as  the “temptation in our situation is to speak in muffled tones about an issue such as the right of the people of Palestine to a state of their own. We can easily be enticed to read reconciliation and fairness as meaning parity between justice and injustice. Having achieved our own freedom, we can fall into the trap of washing our hands of difficulties that others faces.

Yet we would be less than human if we did so.

It behooves all South Africans, themselves erstwhile beneficiaries of generous international support, to stand up and be counted among those contributing actively to the cause of freedom and justice.

Even during the days of negotiations, our own experience taught us that the pursuit of human fraternity and equality — irrespective of race or religion – should stand at the centre of our peaceful endeavours. The choice is not between freedom and justice, on the one hand, and their opposite, on the other. Peace and prosperity; tranquility and security are only possible if these are enjoyed by all without discrimination.

It is in this spirit that I have come to join you today to add our own voice to the universal call for Palestinian self-determination and statehood.” (Address by President Nelson Mandela at the International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People, Pretoria, 4 December 1997)

Or maybe for us as Christians the graffiti on the wall speaks for itself:

Crossing the Border

What an irony!  As I am writing this post I find myself behind a wall in the city of Beit Sahour, Palestine.  This city might be known to some  people as “the city of the shepherd’s field”  where the angels announced to the shepherds that the Messiah was born.  The unfortunate reality is that no more could those shepherds freely walk to go and visit their savior in Bethlehem.

These past three days, starting on Saturday crossing into the West Bank from Jordon, have been quite an experience.  At this his point I feel quite overwhelmed with all the information that has been shared and with everything that we have experienced and observed.  How can life be this complicated? Palestinians can live here but not there, they can drive here but not there.  This road is only for Israelis but not for Palestinians.  If you have this color registration plates for your car you can drive here but not there.

Maybe contributing to my overwhelming feelings is that life here in the West Bank reminds me so much of growing up in apartheid South Africa.

On Saturday we traveled from Madaba, Jordon into Palestine at the Malik Husein Bridge (Allenby) Arrival.  The crossing itself took us about 3 hours to complete.  This was a very frustrating experience, maybe not that different from many other border crossings in other countries that I have visited, but this one by far the most humiliating.  Although the people in the line trying to clear customs had a lot to do with it,  the system itself might be the biggest culprit bringing out the worst in people, pushing and shoving to keep your place in line.  Maybe it  was because the majority of people at the crossing were not welcome and were not considered people by the Israeli government and therefore do not deserve a better, more welcoming and humane treatment.  What reminded me the most of apartheid South Africa was when the Naturalized Canadian Palestinian  in front of me presented his passport to the Israeli customs agent, along with other paperwork including his Palestinian ID, to allow him and his Canadian-born daughter to enter and the agent did not know what to do.  She was obviously very nervous and appeared to be scared.  She first asked the agent sitting next to her for help in processing the passports and then disappeared for at least 20 minutes holding up the whole line to come back and tell him to go to yet another line where he needed yet another stamp.

This to me was occupation … the young Israeli custom agent acting from fear and the Palestinian man visibly nervous, his self esteem undermined by a system of exclusion, humiliating him in front of his daughter.  Obviously not one of them are free, as he struggles to get back into his country of birth and as she is afraid that she might be the one allowing the “wrong” person to enter.  The reality is that none of us are free, as we all belong to a “greater whole and are diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed, or treated as if they are less than who they are.” – Desmond Tutu

Traveling to Palestine

I have not been updating my blog since last October when I traveled with a group of members from Oak Grove Presbyterian Church in Bloomington, MN to South Africa.  A lot has changed in my family’s life this past year as we now find ourselves in Wooster, OH where I am the Pastor of Westminster Presbyterian Church.

One of the aspects of ministry at Westminster is its legacy of peacemaking locally and around the world.  Westminster has three Peace Initiatives; locally dealing with the environment, nationally dealing with issues surrounding immigration, and internationally we are in partnership with St. George’s Melkite Greek Catholic Church, in Zababdeh, Palestine.

For someone who grew up In South Africa as part of the oppressor, it is a moving experience to serve a church that is in solidarity with the oppressed in Palestine.  In many ways the stories of my blog “There Is No Wall” continue as I find myself traveling through Palestine, facing the occupation of a people, and seeing myself in the fear of the Israeli soldiers.  It is in the midst of oppression that I once again continue my own journey of healing, digging deep within myself to find those places that reject, that exclude, and that fear, as it is fear that keeps us from living our lives as people who truly are set free.

This picture of our traveling group was taken at Mt Nebo in Jordon on the day before we entered Palestine.  In the back from left to right are Don Gordon, Cheryl Weiss, myself and in the front are Sue-min Lee, Nahida Gordon, and Sami Halaby, Nahida’s older brother (Both Nahida and Sami are American Palestinians).

Oak Grove Sorg Sentrum

This morning we were privileged to be a part of the dedication of a facility for the care of the elderly in the Blompark community  near Franskraal, where Dries’s parents live.  The Sorg Sentrum, or care center, was the result of the collective efforts of MANY people and organizations:  land donated by one woman, municipal officials who worked to rezone the area, county officials who helped design the building, local people who were able to earn an income doing construction, members of the business community who contributed funds, and members of the community at large who donated furnishings for the rooms and pledged their time to help maintain the rooms.  Oak Grove, for our part, contributed in excess of $40,000, the major portion of the construction funds for this project.

The money for this project was raised in 2007, when Oak Grove’s own building was paid off early and, in thankfulness, the extra funds that would have gone for paying for our building went instead to Blompark.  It is difficult for us to convey to you how big an impact we have had — our gift of money has had — on this community.  Magrieta, who is the heart and soul of this project to care for the elderly, said that it was a dream come true, and that the dream continues.

It was humbling for us to sit with the elderly people, the oumas and oupas, and to know that we have had such a hugely positive impact on their lives.  For those few moments, we got to share in the excitement of being part of this community. 

What was particularly moving to Dries, was when an ouma got up and thanked Oak Grove, and said how wonderful it is for her people now to have a place, when they get tired in life, to have a place to come and rest…  a place to come and die with dignity.  This is what this project  is about – giving people dignity.

We started out saying, “Who wants wine, I’ll go get glasses.”

(Thanks to the whole group who help write this blog and Nancy for typing it for us.)

The group gathers and starts to talk, all on top of each other:
Nancy- So tell me what has been your most memorable experience so far. Sharon  F – Good dinner, good stories.  Beautiful ocean – oh, it’s got to be better than that … I wanted to jump in the waves… Greg - Talk about the guy who makes giraffes… Darwin – What was his name? Greg – Did you get a picture of…Darwin – I would have but the lighting was all wrong…Barb – How do you download a picture?  We should have pictures…Dries – Yeah, I want a picture of the group.  The picture I had wasn’t any good…Jack – You lost the battery again?…Greg – Did you talk about the giraffe maker yet? Darwin – We went walking out along the pier and talked to the fisherman.  Then talked with a guy who was making these giraffes and all this other stuff…  Dries – Yeah, what’s the story about that?  Nancy – His name is Evans.  He is from…Dries –  The gift of community this is what the story is about – I’ll say something theological, that’s my job.  I mean, if the church organist can pay for the meal – it’s about time that the pastor do something meaningful tonight as well.  In South Africa community is so entwined, with (Dries’ phone rings)…  Jack – are you going to send a picture?  Barb – …but it’s all about tonight, nothing previous to tonight….  Iris- long  flight Friday, longer flight Saturday…Sharon N – trying to catch up on sleep…Sharon F – they’re not going to feel sorry about us…Linda –  We had the fruits of the country…Sharon N – Should we say something about the tablecloth (cloud cover) on Table Mountain, which is a rarity for this time of year and we got to see it, so we saw something special.  Sharon F – We had to pull over for some reason, stopped by the authorities on the side of the road…… (our bus was pulled over into the weigh station).  Darwin – How about the two black labs that went swimming in the ocean…Greg – Is this what you’re looking for? (shows picture of Table Mountain).  Sharon F -a gazillion sheep…Iris – and half as many ostriches.  Sharon N – and the blue crane, which is the national bird.  Greg  – and the weaver bird of some kind.. Iris – which pooped on my head…Barb – Jack’s daughter was shocked that he was coming on this trip.  Nancy – Barb, what has been your most meaningful experience so far?  Jack – ….your highlight of the day…Barb – I actually enjoyed our talk around the pool this afternoon. Dries– there’s that community thing again…Sharon – community experiences, taking a hike…Iris – Sauvignon Blanc … no, never mind… Barb- Jack’s daughter was shocked that he was coming on this trip…Nancy – Who is surprised to find themselves here?– Jack, Darwin and Sharon Fields raised their hands. –Barb – …other than his trip to Canada, he’s never left the country.  He was so happy to be here, he never wanted to leave here.  (Jack came over from China when he was 17).  Darwin – I never thought I’d get the chance to come here.  Sharon– I felt the same way…   It’s Dries’s fault.  Nancy - What intrigued you about coming here? Jack – Elephant Plain…Sharon – It was the opportunity to see the country through Dries’s eyes.  Jack – …everything is already arranged for us. Nancy - One sentence Rosalie…Darwin– and there’s no wrong answer…Rosalie – it was about being with Dries in his home country.  Dries– its an honor to me and South Africa and its people that people will spend their time and money in this way.  You see, it is a mission in it self.  By just coming here and buying souvenirs, every person who comes here creates about 20 jobs.  Just think of all the people who you gave a job to today.  Linda – I just think it’s nice to share with people you already know, but now you know them better, because you see them in a different setting.  Dries – It’s that sense of community again.. This is the miracle that is happening.  You come to a country like South Africa, where that sense of community was broken for so long, to find healing and wholeness in such unexpected places and people like the giraffe makers and the fisherman.  It is like beadwork and wire work,… when we realize this community we all are so colorful together with our lives entwined with one another.  Linda – it’s the acceptance too.  Dries - This is the essence of the story.  You know, the gift you gave one another today  is that moment, … that brief encounter you depended on one another!  You saw him as an educated person; here in this country we see him as an illegal immigrant.   

Nancy – The giraffe man was a well spoken, educated gentle black man named Evans.  He was originally from Zimbabwe, where he was an English teacher and art teacher.  Then Mugabe threw his country into chaos, and there was no longer a place for Evans there.  Now he survives by making animals, including giraffes, from beads and wire, and selling them on the waterfront in Knysna… Why should anybody, particularly an educator who obviously cares so much about his fellow Zimbabweans, have to leave their country?…

Dries-it’s like the prayer of the immigrant we learned about when Oak Grove went on the Borderlinks trip to Arizona and Mexico.  It’s a powerful prayer by Orthon Perez (Summer of 2004 For the right to live in peace) in memory of those who went to look for a better life, yet only encountered death in the Senora desert: “no one ever will have to look for their dream in other lands, So that no one would ever have to go to the desert, and be consumed by loneliness.  A voice in the desert cries out… Education for all!! Opportunities for all! Bread for all! Freedom for all! Justice for all!  We are a voice that will not be lost on the desert…” 

Nancy-This bead worker gave us so much more besides his art and his story!  He gave us his gentleness and his generosity in trusting us with his story.  Dries-This is the essence of what it means to be part of the world family, the community of God.  We are all connected in one humanity … we depend on one another for our mutual humanity.  That’s Ubuntu!

We Made It!

After a good night’s sleep, a scrumptious South African breakfast (consisting of shoulder bacon, eggs, sausages, fresh fruits and juices, fried tomatoes and yogurt), and seeing the absolute beauty of Cape Town with Table Mountain peaking over the Mother City under the blue African skies, we finally felt like we had arrived in the most southern country of Africa.  Suddenly 30 hours of dealing with overbooked planes and busy airports became a distant memory and fatigue gave way to the promise of rest and renewal.

Yesterday we departed Cape Town at 8:00 am for Knysna.  This 200 mile/6 hour drive along the N2, known as the Garden Route, is spectacular. The road on the coastal plain is squeezed between mountains on one side and on the other, the Atlantic that makes way for the Indian Ocean where they meet at Cape Agulhas, the most Southern tip of Africa.  We made it to Knysna at about 4:00pm and were in awe of the natural beauty of this little town with its Mediterranean Maritime climate.  Striking was the Knysna Heads that flank a deep but potentially treacherous channel through which the sea pours in to flood the wide and breathtakingly beautiful lagoon at the mouth of the Knysna River.

The rest of the day was spent at our own leisure with some of us visiting around the pool of our hotel and others exploring the nearby Waterfront with all its restaurants, little shops, and street vendors.  Last night we ate outside at one of the local seafood restaurants called 34 South,  tasting some of the treasures the oceans around South Africa have to offer, finished off with a glass of South African wine.  After we came back from the restaurant we sat on the Hotel’s deck and wrote our next blog together.

On The Road Again

No, I am not going to sing the Willie Nelson song, but I am traveling to South Africa again.  This time around I have sixteen fellow Oak Grovers traveling with me to my country of birth.  I always consider it a privilege when people choose to spend their money and time exploring the treasures of  the Rainbow Nation.  Tomorrow, Friday October 16,  a group of eleven will leave the Twin Cities for Cape Town via Amsterdam.  We will begin by exploring the Garden Route along the East Coast on the Indian Ocean.  On Wednesday October 21, we will be back in Cape Town where the other five members of our group will fly in to join us.  Please join us on this journey.  We will make our first update after our arrival in South Africa.  Click here for the full itinerary.

Our Bags Are Packed

I have always felt that one of the greatest things of growing up in South Africa and now living in America, is that there are two places that I can now call home.  So, my bags are packed and I am coming home!  Tonight the boys and I are returning to the US and we will arrive in MN on Thursday. 

Last week I spent my time at Franskraal with my parents at their house overlooking the Indian Ocean.  We were so fortunate as we had some wonderful weather and the boys played on the beach and searched the rock pools for sea creatures as I sat in the sun and read.

This week I think I ended my time in South Africa very appropriately by returning to my town of birth, Ceres, on Monday and Tuesday.  It was exciting to show the boys where I was born and attended Primary School from grades one to seven.  We were even fortunate enough to go into our old house and show the boys the room my brother and I shared when we were little.

But, maybe most meaningful of all was to visit one of our domestic  workers after about 25 years.  Johanna, who was the daughter of farm laborers,  came and worked for my family when she was in her late teens and became very much part of our lives.  Although very young, she was an excellent cook and I can still remember many of her wonderful dishes.  I must admit that seeing her again made me realize just how young she had been when she worked for my family and the price she paid for taking up domestic work at such a young age without completing High School.  It was nice to see the pictures of Johanna’s children and to know that they were at school when we visited her.  It was extremely significant to see Johanna and thank her for all she did for our family and myself. 

But, as things are in South Africa, no time together can be complete without a braai!  Last night we grilled lamb chops at my sister’s and I got to have my fill of good South African lamb.  Unfortunately I have the weight to show after two and a half months of this favorite South African pastime.

See you soon, Dries

Visiting Soweto

I am back in the Cape Town area in a town called Paarl, where I am visiting my sister Emily and her family; I also spent five years of my life (grades 8 through 12) here at Paarl Boys High. I am fortunate that my Sabbatical coincided with my 20^th high school reunion and homecoming for my alma mater against Paarl Gymnasium. On Thursday and Friday we will watch my nephews play rugby on their various teams and then Saturday we will be watching rugby the whole day with the epical final game in the afternoon between the first teams of the two schools. Hopefully Boys High can turn the tide around as Gymnasium has been winning for the past five years.

A great and life-changing experience I had these past weeks was spending a night and the following day in Soweto. Soweto is an urban area in the City of Johannesburg and its name an English syllabic abbreviation, short for South Western Township. What makes Soweto unique is that it is infused with the history of the struggle against apartheid and was home to people like Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.

Very memorable were my visits with Antoinette, the sister of Hector Pieterson, a 12-year-old boy who died during the Soweto uprising on June 16, 1976. Hector was killed when the police opened fire on students protesting against the apartheid state’s policy of Afrikaans as the language of instruction in schools, regardless of the student’s first language. He became the iconic image of the 1976 Soweto uprising after a news photograph by Sam Nzima of the dying Hector being carried by an 18-year-old school boy, Mbuyisa Makhubo with Antoinette (then 17 years old) running next to them was published around the world.

Although I was too young to remember the events of June 16^th, it was  truly amazing to visit with Antoinette, who now is a tour guide at the Hector Pieterson Memorial and Museum. During my visit with her I once again realized how apartheid dehumanized people to the effect that we could forget that Hector was really a child, and not just an image in the newspaper. Antoinette helped me recognize that he was a normal 12-year-old boy who was very close to his mother, loved to play in the garden collecting bugs of all sorts, and that he dreamed dreams. As I was listening to her I became aware that he could have been one of my own two children who now are at the same stage in their lives. It was then that Hector came alive to me and I envisioned the cost of the ultimate price he and his family paid for a free and just South Africa. Most amazing to me is that Antoinette does not hold any grudges or bad feelings against the people or system who took her brother’s life. She has made a choice not to allow hate to hold her life captive. For her to be truly free and to do justice to her brother’s sacrifice is to forgive and to let go.

For me personally I broke a barrier spending the night in Soweto. Growing up white in apartheid South Africa we lived with a tremendous fear of the black majority, a fear that still separates many people today. For me it was unbelievable to be there, walking down the streets of Soweto, watching the Bafana Bafana’s (South Africa’s national soccer team) semi-final FIFA Confederation Cup match against Brazil, hearing the sounds of the vuvuzelas, and drinking a beer with my gracious host.

I left Soweto with a sense of wholeness, realizing that our biggest fears sometimes keep us from living our lives as people who are set free, which in turn minimizes the sacrifice of those who paid the ultimate prize.