July 26, 2001
Birzeit University’s Institute of Community and Public Health.
Today we managed to get out of bed early. We had gotten a phone call from a Palestinian woman who wanted to meet us - she found our writings quite interesting and wanted to meet the people behind them. Today, we got the chance. Her name is Rita Giacaman, and she is the Director of Birzeit University's Institute of Community and Public Health. A native of Bethlehem, she and her family left for the States in the wake of the 1967 War. She returned in 1978 as an American citizen, sued to receive her Palestinian identity card (it only took five years), and began working on issues of public health. She is a fierce woman, but is clearly somewhat tired. She and many of her contemporaries struggled for years with a vision of a democratic, just, and sovereign state of Palestine, but have found themselves dismayed - if not hopeless (a common word these days) - from the current state of affairs. The Institute does research on public health issues (everything from rising diabetes rates to water pollution to domestic violence) throughout the West Bank and Gaza. There's something refreshing about a chain-smoking Palestinian feminist who has great affection for Quakers.
Birzeit children on their scavenger hunt.
We then headed over to the Latin Convent to take another peek at their summer camp. The kids were in the midst of a scavenger hunt, sprinting all over town to bring home the prize. We didn't have much time to stay before class started, but we saw that the kids were having an absolute blast (as were the nuns, truth be told).
One of the Rosary Sisters.
After class, we got a rather depressing call - we had antipicated heading up to Zababdeh this weekend to play host to a group from Atlanta's Peachtree Presbyterian Church. Their tour company, with whom we had arranged things, wanted to know if that could be changed to tomorrow (when we would be on the road to Zababdeh). Apparently the company had told Marthame one thing and the church group and their hosts in Beit Sahour another. Needless to say, this was bummer news. We decided to drown our sorrows in a visit to Jerusalem and a meal of Thai food (that old Chicago remedy) while Marthame broke the news to the various priests in Zababdeh.
Our taxi from Ramallah to Jerusalem took all kinds of back roads and twisting turns (even though checkpoints were open - albeit slow), slowing down before intersections upon reaching Jerusalem, finally arriving at the Damascus Gate. When we got out, we noticed the reason for all of the precautions: green (Palestinian taxi) license plates. Before September, this wouldn't have been anything to comment on, but now that's a huge gamble. Clearly the guy desperately needed the handful of shekels our taxi gave him. We'll head down to Beit Sahour to see the Peachtree group on Saturday instead, which will be good, but a far second to how we had hoped to spend our weekend.