 Our reporter finds a ray of hope for peace in a most unexpected place |
 in an ARAB VILLAGE |
Can you imagine Christmas
in an Arab home in Israel?
|
Columnist Kinney Littlefield has just returned from a trip to strife-torn Israel with her life partner to visit his ailing mother. She wound up in the midst of the horrible violence there between Israelis and Palestinians.This is her third report. |
of TheColumnists.com
Home safe in Southern California. Despite my friends’ worst fears I did not die in Israel on a visit to my partner’s mother. In fact I found unexpected pockets of peace and hope there--and a little bit of Christmas, too.
In the ancient neighborhood of Ein Karem in Jerusalem I found religion--the silently beguiling stone monasteries of various Russian, French, Spanish and Italian orders.
In what was once the Arab village of Kfar Samir near Haifa I found new friends and a brightly glinting Christmas tree that gave me hope.
We had gone to Kfar Samir to visit my partner’s longtime friends--an Israeli Arab and his Dutch wife--at the husband’s no-frills restaurant on the edge of the Mediterranean Sea.
On our arrival the abandoned stone outbuildings near the restaurant caught my eye immediately.
Inside, our friends had heaped a table high with humus and chopped salads and freshly caught fish--a welcoming feast.
But it was a small Christmas tree set against the dining room wall that held my eyes through dinner. Decked with red and green ornaments, it looked lonely and brave, a sentry on duty against the violence-prone world outside. It was the first Christmas tree I had seen this season and I found myself greedy for its good cheer after days of suicide bombings in Haifa and Jerusalem.
Meanwhile, as we ate, the story of the nearby abandoned buildings emerged. Once, in the days before Israel became Israel, Kfar Samir had been a busy village. Our Arab friend’s family had lived there, and had a successful pottery business, even before the British occupation, back in the time of the Turks.
Gradually the Arabs had left, however, after Israel became independent. Eventually only our Arab friend’s family remained, a village unto themselves. The pottery business started to fail and was turned into a restaurant. Now the restaurant is struggling as tourists, fearful of terrorist attacks, have largely abandoned Israel.
“There is no business,” our friend said, piling my plate with more salad and fish, gesturing to indicate the otherwise empty dining room.
As he spoke I heard an odd metallic scratching noise near the Christmas tree. A sleek young gray cat had grabbed an ornament, pulled it off a limb and was batting it fearlessly across the room.
As the cat scrambled in ecstatic circles a large grizzled old dog wandered in from the boardwalk and settled near our feet, ignoring the feline frenzy. Then a second, smaller, more delicate dog meandered over to the Christmas tree, sniffed it, and joined our group.
Other cats, semi-wild yet surprisingly friendly, hunkered down in the doorway and outside the restaurant windows, hoping for tidbits, biding their time.
Eventually, after more food and smiles and mutual toasts I discovered the origin of the Christmas tree. My partner’s friend was Christian, as hundreds of thousands of Arabs are in Israel.
“I am Catholic Christian but we do not divide ourselves that way here,” he said. “In America you are Catholic or Protestant. Here we may be Catholic or Orthodox or Copts but we are all just Christian.
“I am a Christian Arab and I say to you, as I say to them, the Jews and the Muslims are related. I have said that to them many times in my restaurant, because they all come here: Why should you fight? Your languages are similar, you have lived here many years together. Really, you are cousins.”
Later, over tea and sesame candies and sweet biscuits, the talk of politics continued. The conversation quickly heated since our Dutch friend thinks highly of Palestinian leader Yassir Arafat and my partner, who is Israeli, thinks Arafat a skunk.
Our Christian Arab friend managed to walk a diplomatic middle, arguing that “peace can only happen when Israel returns the occupied territories,” and that “America is the key to it all. I can only say God bless America!”
Well, so far anyway, America has pretty much tanked in its efforts to negotiate an Israeli-Palestinian peace settlement. Last heard, the Palestinian extremist group Islamic Jihad and other terrorist groups--or liberation groups, if you prefer--were vowing to fight on to end Israeli occupation. Israeli leader Ariel Sharon was shunning any more talk with Arafat.
Yet during our dinner in Kfar Samir I was part of a fleeting yet oddly exhilarating moment of détente. We four humans, of different faiths and cultures, spent hours expounding our opposing views in civilized fashion while our bestial companions--laidback dogs and hyper cat alike--grew snoozy and curled up near each other like lambs.
Now, home again in Southern California, I look back on that evening in the abandoned village near Haifa and feel hopeful. I think of our meeting of the minds, the silent bond of animals, the brightly colored Christmas tree in Kfar Samir--and I feel oddly light and happy. Even in under-siege Israel, I still believe peace is possible, after all.
© 2001 by Kinney Littlefield.
The Littlefield caricature is © 2001 by Jim Hummel. The
Christmas tree illustration is from IMSI's Master Clips Collection,
1895 Francisco Blvd. E., San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA.
You
can comment on this column or contact with an email to: talkback@thecolumnists.com
| Home | About Us | Archives | Talkback | Shopping Mall |