Midway blog.

I blog a lot less than I hoped to. But every day here is so full and so tiring that by the time I sit down to write--nothing. Exhaustion takes over, or there's a Turkish soap opera on, or my coworkers want to go out to eat...all of that to say, there's a lot of other things to be doing.

And there's a lot to take in.

As my host dad says, "everything here is corruption," which is mostly to say, nothing in Palestine really works efficiently or the way it should. And of course he thinks that. Half of the land his family owned is on the other side of the wall. He's seen his entire world get bisected, demolished, and occupied.

It's a lot to take it.

Everyday I wake up and take the shortest, most unsatisfyingly conservative shower ever. Because Military occupation means that water belongs to the occupier. Which means that every drop of water counts because water here is expensive.

It's a lot to take in.

When I leave for work I usually get honked at, yelled at, or gestured towards by men at least 5-6 times in the 1 kilometer walk. I've come to understand that this is for a few reasons: 1) I'm white 2) oppression makes you rowdy 3) while Palestine has high rates of college graduates, they have low rates of employment ... thus there's a lot of shbabs (young people) with not a lot to do but to hit on the foreign girl who walks past the shop every day

It's a lot to take in.

When I get to work I walk into an office with six Palestinians who need permits to leave the West Bank, one German-Palestinian whose family lives in the 48 and refuses to visit the West Bank, and German diplomat who has a special passport so he never has to stop at checkpoints, and one other American who is doing whatever she can to figure out her visa situation.

It's a lot to take in.

When I decide to check my phone, I am constantly reminded that I am lucky enough to have an Israeli number. Deeming me worthy to have 3G coverage in the West Bank, while most of the Palestinians I have met are restricted in coverage, cost, and call dependability. I pay thirty dollars a month for better cell service than I get in the US. Because I am not the one being occupied.

It's a lot to take in.

When I come home I am greeted by my host sister, who just graduated; and two host brothers--one who is getting a degree in computer engineering; the other who studies sociology. None of them are hopeful for employment opportunities, despite graduating in four-five years, with good grades and in industries that the US judges as 'promising'. My host brother who studies sociology often asks me why I think he should get an education at all--he'll never get a job, he won't be able to marry. "I live under double occupation," he says "Israel and the Palestinian Authority"

It's a lot to take in.

When I sometimes decide to leave Bethlehem, I am stopped with friends at checkpoints because an American and a Palestinian should never be in a car together. I am instantly suspect. They are instantly guilty. And we are both instantly being yelled at in Hebrew.

It's a lot to take in.

Since I have been here, my awareness of the distractions: the drinking, the drugs, the relationships, the TV, the gossip, the partying; has made me more and more aware of the constant stress that individuals living here are under. It's a lot of trauma to go through every day constantly conscious of the pressurized zone we live in.

It's a lot to take in.

When my younger host-sister returns from studying in the US for her junior year of high school, she has to take 3 airplanes to get to Amman and a bus from Jordan to Bethlehem. It will take 2-3 days, and cost about $1,000 more than your average US to Israel travel cost. Because she is Palestinian, she cannot fly through Tel Aviv, and she has to take special Palestinian only busses to Bethlehem. My trip home will last less than 12 hours, and my biggest hassle is airport security and taking my shoes off (inshallah).

It's a lot to take in.

When I choose to take a service (taxi) to Ramallah I am faced with two options: Faster and safer Israeli only roads; or long, dangerous Palestinian service roads? (a 45 minute travel difference).

It's a lot to take in.

While my coworker and I can choose to cross the wall to get Ethiopian food, or sushi, or peanut butter; our fellow staff can only do so during Christmas and Easter.
I'm only 21, and I can rent a car and a hotel room in Tel Aviv, while my 40 year-old boss cannot.

It's a lot to take in.

The amount of money I budgeted for this seven-week experience is equal to the average annual income of a school teacher in  Bethlehem.

It's a lot to take in.

And because it's a lot to take in, it has remained in. I internalize it and take naps, or watch Turkish soap operas in Arabic, or go out with coworkers, because sitting in all of this for three and a half weeks is exhausting.