I had the privilege of riding in the minivan. Mustafa drove, with Kim and Jon in the front seat. I squeezed into the middle row between Froy and Bo, with Humberto on Bo's other side, against the sliding door. And poor Zach was in the back seat, wedged between the side of the car and a red suitcase that we were sure wasn't going to fit. In front of my knees were suitcases, behind my head were suitcases, across my lap was my backpack. Cozy, indeed.
We left Tel Aviv and drove toward Jerusalem. Someone had told us previously (Jon, I think), that Tel Aviv wouldn't feel that different from America. And in our sleepy haze, it really didn't. The highway we drove on had the same green signs with white lettering that one would see in the US. Except instead of merely English, the sign had Hebrew, Arabic, and English. The city could have been any city. However, outside of Tel Aviv, the reality hit. Certainly not America, certainly not like anything I'd ever seen before. I wish I had the eloquence to describe the scenery fully, but I can't, and in all honesty, I was incredibly tired anyway. Pictures and descriptions will come in the future.
Just as we neared Jerusalem, the sun broke over the horizon, and a red fire orb lit up the hazy hillsides. A breaktaking moment. And then, a few minutes later, we arrived at our flat on Alzahara St. (although apparently, this is "E-Zahra" on the map.) It's so pleasant. It sits on the second floor, and the open windows allow the breezes to drift through the house, fluttering the colorful curtains. We're living close together, but the high ceilings make this seem much less intimidating. Plus, 3 bathrooms isn't such a bad ratio for the 15 of us.
After demolishing some pita and humus and chocolate milk, I retired to the girl's room. There was no arguing over rooms and beds; when we arrived, folders with our names on them delegated us to the proper bed. Mine is the back corner, furthest from our door, with blue sheets and a purple pillow. We won't be spending much time in our rooms, and maybe I'll just steal Kim's glorious red bedding when she isn't looking. Kidding, kidding. Blue and purple is just fine. We also have a bathroom directly off of our room. The curtain rod needed some assembly, but Kim and I rocked that out. After a long-awaited shower, I collapsed in my bed for a long-awaited sleep.
I knew I could use a nap, maybe an hour or two. But six hours later, I woke up to a knock at the door. Time for our first MEETing. Between sleeping and waking, wireless internet had appeared, mooched from the store across the street (Ranger, we thank you), so I sent off a quick e-mail to my parents before we got started.
Post meeting, we split up into our years, and hashed out plans for preparatory work, and tackled our laptops for a few hours, cursing the faulty wireless signal we received. Around 4pm or so, we heard a call to prayer, a sort of ethereal moan. Then the internet went out for about half an hour, possibly related?
At 6:30pm we sat through a brief presentation to remind us of why we're here and to review the ground rules (there aren't very many), and then we walked around the block and got an idea of the neighborhood we reside in.
We are in East Jerusalem, and a large Muslin population exists here (thus the calls to prayer). Also, our flat on Alzahara St. is basically right beside the Old City. More explanation required...
The "Old City" is one square kilometer encompassed by stone walls. It marks the original dimensions of Jerusalem, and everything that existed here prior to the 19th century resides within these walls. Eventually, I'll write more about the Old City, like about the religious quarters and such, but that would be best saved for after I've actually been inside. :-)
Following our brief jaunt around the block, we drove to a restaurant called Azadinya to have our first big meal in the city. Mustafa ordered a ton of salads for everyone, including one of the local specials with lots of parsley. I also had a half liter of Taybeh beer, which according to the Lonely Planet guide (thanks Pam!!), is the "native golden brew" of the Northern West Bank, and comes in light and malt-heavy dark brews. I had the light, and thought I'm not really much of a beer drinker, I found it quite delicious. For the main course, I enjoyed penne artishock (where "artishock" really means artichoke...) and conversations with other people.
The most interesting part of the conversation was talking to Noa, the new CEO of MEET. She spent the last several years as director of the Gay and Lesbian Center in Jerusalem. I was really curious about this resource, and eagerly questioned her further. She said that when they first started, they were basically the only Arabic-speaking LGBT phone resource in the entire world. They received calls from all over, from callers who previously had felt completely isolated. Noa said that at the time, they really didn't have any way to provide resources to people in other countries other than to take the calls, but that service was such a big step from what they had previously.
We also talked about the political and social conditions for gays and lesbians in Jerusalem compared to the US. She said that the government has been quite receptive: marriages performed in Canada are recognized, while in the US, they are not; also, gender reassignment surgery is covered under the national health plan. Unfortunately, based on our conversation, it seems the people of the region are less receptive. Due to her sexual orientation and to her line of work, she had to hire a body guard at one point. The Gay and Lesbian Center has also paid for a body guard for her at other times. So, there is a mixed conclusion. It seems that while the US government is far behind the times, our society is somewhat more receptive of the LGBT community on an individual basis.
After dinner, we returned to the flat, and most of us quickly returned to our beds. Jet lag takes its toll.
Next post: Falafel, wall pictures, and why you should listen to things like "weight limits" in elevators.
