Yafeh Nefesh

As most of you probably know, Israel launched a massive air assault against Gaza on Saturday. Needless to say, things have been a little tense around here. Not only is it tense because I am Israeli, but I am also living with Palestinians and Israelis. Nobody here agrees with what Israel is doing, but people are coming to the situation from very different perspectives.

We have some Palestinians who clearly take this attack against Gaza as a personal attack. They are eaten up over it, seeing the situation as a "holocaust," a "genocide," and the dead as martyrs. Many of them feel betrayed. I think because they are here, living in Israel with Israelis, and the government has done something exactly opposed to what we are here for.

There are some Israelis who feel extreme shame and disgust over what their government has done. They do not in any way support what is happening, and they would likely refuse to serve if they were called up for reserve duty. And there are other Israelis who believe that Israel has the right to protect themselves and respond (to the Qassam rockets), but that the path chosen was disproportional and unreasonable. And there are Israelis (and some Americans) who are extremely concerned over the safety and well-being of the Israeli towns near Gaza that have faced rocket fire even during the truce, but much more so since it ended. Additionally, many people have good friends or family who have been called up and some students here may very well be called as well.

It became clear that things were at a boiling point at the Institute and something needed to happen. We decided that sitting and talking about the situation just wasn't enough, we had to do something. Some students want the Institute to issue a letter denouncing the violence and the attacks on both sides, otherwise what are we doing here? What is the point of us coming together if we have nothing to show for it? How can we (particularly the Israelis and Arabs) go back to our communities and justify why we were here?

We also decided that as a student body, we need to do something. We decided to organize a demonstration, or a "peace vigil" so as to comply with Israeli law. It was incredible to see how we were able to come together and support each other, to find a way to take the anger and frustration and channel it into something constructive. We were on the edge at that moment - either we were going to fall apart or we were going to draw on each other and strengthen our friendship, trust, and commitment to each other.

Once we agreed on the demonstration, we had to come up with a message that everyone could stand behind. It was no easy task. Some people wanted only a general call against violence, others wanted specific reference to Gaza (that was the point of the demo for them), others wanted to say that they disagreed with Israel's response, and still others thought we should not only focus on negatives, but to show what should be happening. It was hard to find a balance: the general statements didn't have enough bite for the people who wanted to condemn the particular actions, and the pointed slogans seemed too anti-Israel for some. After a long, but productive discussion, we decided on a number of slogans, all of which were to be written in Hebrew, Arabic, and English.


"Stop the Bombing in Gaza! Stop the Qassams! Violence is not the Solution!"


"Remember March 2008? There is No Military Solution"



"Jews and Arabs Refuse to be Enemies"


"Gaza Residents Deserve Security, too"



We decided to hold the demonstration at a nearby Kibbutz where the regional council, health clinic, and regional store is located - lots of buses stop here. We started out in the parking lot where we had a fair amount of interaction with customers, some heated conversations, some more productive. We were asked to move to street and we complied. It made us more visible to cars passing by, but we lost the human interaction. The police came within 30 minutes of us being there. They tried to make us leave saying that we were holding an illegal demonstration. We managed to prove that what we were doing was, in fact, perfectly legal. They made it difficult for us - parking right in front of our signs, making sure we didn't stand on the road itself, etc.

The best part, though, was when a very angry man from Kibbutz Yotvata came up to us yelling in Hebrew about why we were here, why we didn't go to Sderot and Gaza, why we didn't just go home. He called us "yafeh nefesh," literally translated as "beautiful soul" but meaning somethng closer to "bleeding heart." The Israelis felt proud, proud to be a bleeding heart, someone who cares for humanity regardless of race, ethinicity, or religion. I'll wear that label, too.

Hope Flowers

More on Bethlehem. It feels like a really long time ago at this point. As I've mentioned, living on Kibbutz is like living in a bubble, and I've been sucked into it pretty effectively since I've been back. Even though I had a very powerful experience in Bethlehem, it is easy to shove it to the back of mind now that I have more immediate things occupying my time. I'll do my best to start recounting the trip, though.

We started by going to the Hope Flowers School in Al Khader (neighboring Bethlehem) and heard from the director, Ibrahim Issa. The school focuses on peace education and non-violence through teacher training, compassionate listening, interfaith education and dialogue, and parent involvement. It also has many extra curricular activities, war trauma support, and exchange programs with Israelis (which were more common prior to the second Intifada).


The Hope Flowers School

A quick sidenote: The great thing about the name of the school is that the Arabic can be translated as either "hope flowers" as in hope flowers here or as "flowers of hope." I think both embody the mission and goals of the school.

Anyway, the second Intifada brought new challenges to both the school and Ibrahim Issa himself. With the reoccupation of Bethlehem, simply getting to school became a challenge for many students. A fence separated some students' homes from the school, a fence where the gate was only opened three times a day by Israeli soldiers. A roadblock was constructed on the road leading up to the school. And the main building was shelled at one point causing serious damage to the top two floors. Needless to say, these circumstances placed added strain on the goal of peace education. As Ibrahim put it, they started "educating for peace under occupation."

Additionally, the school received a demolition order against their cafeteria in 2003 because it is too close to the proposed route of the separation barrier. At this point the building still stands, but as far as I know the order is also still valid.

The war trauma support started after the second Intifada and reoccupation of Bethlehem because many students and families were experiencing home searches, curfews, seeing tanks and aircraft, demolitions, etc. The priority of the school is the well-being of the students and their families, but it became another way to connect with Palestinians and promote the goal of peace education.




Some students

Ibrahim faced many personal challenges during the seige of Bethlehem. He was imprisoned and his house demolished in 2002 because he was suspected of aiding and abetting a terrorist. The Israeli government later released him because they were mistaken, but only after destroying his house and without an apology. Not only is this a terrible story, but Ibrahim has remained committed to peace education, non-violence, and promoting dialogue between the Israelis and Palestinians.

I was blown away by the fact that he did not just get angry and disillusioned, but has forged ahead despite seemingly insurmountable stepbacks. I don't know if I would be able to maintain such conviction. Although, I suppose he may feel as though he has no other choice. I am invested in this conflict in many ways, but I am also acutely aware of the fact that I can walk away from it if I choose to. I don't have to be in Israel, I don't have to pursue an IR degree, and I don't have to be an activist in the US, but Ibrahim has to wake up in Bethlehem every day. It still amazes me that he is so committed to the school that his father created and am encouraged by the fact that he believes in its mission and is willing to fight for it.

Encounter

After a few days of processing, I think I am ready to write a bit about my experience in Bethlehem. For those of you who don't know, Bethlehem is located in the West Bank and is under the control of the Palestinian National Authority (PNA). To make things more complex, the West Bank is broken up into Areas A, B, and C each designating the level of control under the PNA. Area A is under full Palestinian administrative control, Area B is under Palestinian administrative control with Israeli security control, and Area C is remains under full Israeli control. Parts of Bethlehem are Area A and parts are Area B. For us, it didn't make much difference, but it means that Palestinian authorities or police cannot enter Area B even when domestic disputes or the like occur.

Anyway, a little background about Encounter. The purpose of the program is not to have a dialogue with Palestinians or to present a "balanced" portrayal of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the goal is to show American Jews another side. We were there to listen and to see how Palestinians in Bethlehem actually live and what they experience on a daily basis. There was a lot of conversation and dialogue among the participants in an effort to grapple with what we witnessed and to examine how it fits into our lives and our Jewish values.

Many of the participants on the trip were in Rabbinical school or attending yeshivot. It certainly changed the conversation and the emphasis as compared to my discussions with other students at the Arava Institute. There was an explicit Jewish focus to how we approached and dealt with what we experienced.

I certainly did not come to any conclusions; no questions were answered, in fact many more are now present; the more I learn and see, the more complex and massive the conflict appears to me, and the less clarity I seem to have. That being said, the purpose of the trip was not to find answers, it was to learn, to explore, to start figuring out how to bring this conversation back to the American Jewish community.

I was struck by some of the Talmudic and Rabbinic ideas brought into the group that were used to help us approach and process the experience. Unfortunately, I do not remember who said this, but a rabbi taught his students that when studying Talmud, one must be able to demonstrate understanding of another's perspective by repeating it back to them before stating their own view. Without doing so one has not really learned any Talmud. This form of study goes beyond simply a way to learn Talmud, it should be applied to other aspects of life. I have thought a lot about this idea and am saddened by the fact that so few Jews (including learned, religious Jews) fail to take the ideals of studying Talmud into their everyday lives. Thinking about the resistance we face in the mainstream Jewish community to even acknowledge the wrongs being done to Palestinians, much less to listen to their perspective, really saddens me. So it was encouraging and gave me some hope to see American Jews, who have a strong religious identity, truly engaging and struggling with the reality of the occupation and of how to become leaders within the Jewish community to start addressing such issues.

I know that I haven't actually said anything about what I saw or heard yet, but one of the really powerful things about Encounter is its emphasis on processing and questioning among the participants. The acknowledgment that these issues are very difficult for Jews to confront and providing a safe environment in which to do so made the program successful. I promise to give some of the nitty gritty details (with pictures!) in my next post, which will follow shortly.

- M

Happy Hanukkah

I haven't had a chance to update the blog recently because I was in Jerusalem and Bethlehem for the past five days for an Encounter trip, Shabbat, and the first night of Hanukkah. I took the midnight bus back to Ketura from Tel Aviv, so I've had about 3 hours of sleep and took a test in climate change at 8 am - just a disclaimer if this post is only semi-coherent. I will definitely write more about Encounter, which was an incredibly intense and amazing experience, but I want to start with something a little bit lighter...Hanukkah!

I had the pleasure of spending the first night of Hannukah in Jerusalem with my good friend Anna and one of her roommates. We found out that Chabad was putting together a hanukkiah out of 5,000 legos and we decided we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see it. Not only did they have a huge lego hanukkiah, they had free sufganyot (the famous jelly-filled doughnuts that Israel is known for during Hanukkah), and they were giving away hanukkiot to those who didn't have one. I've never actually been to a Chabad event before, so it was uncomfortable at first just to take the Hanukkiah, but Deborah insisted that I didn't have to pay for it. It's amazing how much free stuff Chabad gives out.

Along with putting together the hanukkiah (sort of pre-fab as it was already in sections) there was lots of entertainment for little children: magic tricks including swallowing a balloon, turning confetti into Hanukkah gelt, and dressing up in an inflatable penguin costume. Good times had by all.

We then went home to light and sing songs. They sell oil hannukiot in abundance in Jerusalem, so we not only had the typical cheap candles that everyone gets from Sunday school, but a real oil hannukiah. It was so beautiful to walk around the city because so many people put their hannukiot in the window or outside. I love how public the holiday is - something I've never experienced in the States.

I also learned a little bit of the halakhah surrounding the holiday. You are supposed to light where you sleep, so it was suggested that because I was actually going to be sleeping at Ketura, I should have someone light for me there, or to be thinking of me while they light so that I fulfill the requirement. I also lit in Jerusalem, but it is most important that it is done in your home or where you are staying.

There are three levels of fulfilling the commandment to light on Hanukkah. You really only need to light one candle each night. If possible, lighting a hanukkiah with increasing the number of candles each day is better. The third and ideal level, is where each person lights their own hanukkiah. I think this is mainly for practical reasons. If one can afford to have multiple hanukkiot, they should, otherwise, one per family is sufficient.

I'll let you know if there are any nice rituals that the Kibbutz performs. I do know that the huge hanukkiah on top of the mountain is lit each night. Hopefully I'll be able to get some good pictures of it.

Hag sameach v'shavua tov!

- M

Academics?

Permaculture is so cool! I've been reading about permaculture design for my Sustainable Agriculture class (what we lovingly refer to as "sustag") and it makes me want to live on a farm. Forget grad school. After all, once our economic base (fossil fuels) collapses, an IR degree won't do me much good anyway. As far as my sustag instructor is concerned, we are facing the apocalypse pretty soon, so I may as well gain some survival skills, right? Why not start with learning how to grow my own food? Actually, the great thing about permaculture, is that it is truly an art - taking advantage of the potential relationships between different elements on the land. Wouldn't it be nice if my biggest concern was how to make sure that the chickens get appropriate food while contributing to the fertilizing soil and reducing pests that may damage crops. There is obviously a lot more to it; permaculture design can be very complex, but it seems significantly more manageable than working towards a negotiated two-state solution between the Israelis and Palestinians.

More realistically though, I've talked to Elaine (my sustag instructor) about starting a garden when I return to the states. I've gotten all sorts of useful information from preparing the soil to good composting methods to tips on how to plant different vegetables and how to best store seeds. Corn, for example, needs lots of room to grow, so each seed should be planted at least one, if not two, hand-widths apart. To get good seeds, find a few good ears of corn, mark them, and let them dry out on the stock. When they start to whither remove the ear and the then scrape off the kernels. Let them dry completely (not in the sun) and store them in a Nescafe jar. Garlic can be planted from a clove that has sprouted, but make sure that it is pointing up or nothing will come up. Most plants can find the surface, but garlic grows in whatever direction you place it in. We've talked about cucumbers, onions, carrots, potatoes, and other herbs. They all seem to have their own little quirks to them. She also says that a kumquat tree grows quite nicely in a pot indoors...hmm, that could be fun.

While I'm at it, I can tell you a bit about my other classes as well. It's something I've tried to avoid blogging about because it seems so mundane, but I'll try to think of a few highlights. I really like aspects of my mediation class. It is supposed to be environmental mediation, but we have focused more on the mediation process itself, and last week we looked at three different conflict resolution cases - Israel/Palestine, Northern Ireland, and Bosnia-Herzegovina. It was really interesting to compare the three process, particularly because the US played such an important role in all three, but approached them very differently. As fascinated as I am by the Israeli-Palestinian negotiations, I would really like to start looking at others in more depth. It is also funny that Ireland has come up here a couple of times. Not only have we looked at the conflict in Northern Ireland, but we talked about the potato blight and famine and sustag. I haven't had an opportunity to explore my Irish heritage at all, and the more I hear references to it, the more my interest is peaked.

We've also done some role playing in mediation. Active listening seems to be a really important skill to have. Thanks Avodah :) We have two instructors, one of which is a practicing mediator. He has worked on a number of environmental cases, I think. He has been the one to go through much of the process with us and he tells us great stories. The other is a professor at Ben Gurion University. She worked for the UN in Bosnia after the Dayton Accords were signed in an effort to implement them. She has also shared some fascinating stories about her experiences over there and how she managed to help bring the parties to the table over a disputed Sarajevo.

What else? We've finally gotten to policy issues in climate change. Alon Tal, founder of the Institute, gave us a few lectures. He is head of the new Green Party in Israel, so he's kind of a big shot. He currently does something in the Israeli government and he represents Israel in the UN for something related to the environment. Anyway, he's a legend around here, so it was good to finally meet him.

Good enough. I won't bore you with classes again. It's bad enough that I have to sit through them...

- M

Living in a Bubble

I have been living in Israel for nearly three months now. Well, I should say I have been living on Kibbutz Ketura for nearly three months now, for I quickly discovered that Kibbutz Ketura is not Israel. It may be in Israel, but it is certainly not representative if the country. Being in a coexistence program where I am also living with Israelis, Palestinians, and Jordanians, I did not expect to have the "typical" Israel experience (whatever that means), but I did expect to gain a deeper understanding of Israeli politics and and of how current events in the region affect people.

Let me start by saying that living on any kibbutz will provide a unique experience unto itself, but Ketura is in a category of its own. Why? It is located in the Arava Valley for one. Most Israelis don't really consider anything in the south to be part of Israel. When Israelis go home for the weekend, they are "going back to Israel." I am in the middle of nowhere, 60 km from civilization, so to speak. It was also founded by Americans with a particular religious view, so despite the fact that I am definitely not in America, the influence is felt quite strongly. It is really easy to shut the rest of the world out - to become an ostrich and put my head in the sand. In some ways I can see why the kibbutzniks decided by move here, but on at the same time, it can be uncomfortable to live in this parallel universe.

I find it frustrating that even while doing this peace building work, I am so disconnected from the political situation that will have significant implications for what we are trying to do here. I have had to go out of my way to stay up on the events in Hebron. I know that there is an election coming up, but I do not have a good sense of how Israelis really feel about the candidates or of what the political climate is right now. I want to know what the man on the street thinks, but I don't have access to him. I want to hear heated discussions about how Netanyahu is going to devastate this country and ruin all hopes for peace, or how people wonder whether Livni will really be able to negotiate with the Palestinians.

Part of the challenge come with being in the Institute. I am living in a bubble inside of a bubble. In some ways I love it. I am with 40 amazing people who share similar values and with whom I have been able to connect in unique ways. I am living with Jordanians and Palestinians in Israel! Who would've thought? But because of the intimate nature of the program, the fact that not all kibbutz members are thrilled with our presence (that was a diplomatic way of putting it, right?), and because we are so busy with classes and work, we are further isolated from the kibbutz community. It is kind of fun to have our own little world where we talk about really hard issues, which sort of creates an environment of belonging to an exclusive club. This little world has also sparked some serious soul searching for me, so in some respects feeling even more isolated while I figure things out (although, I have also created some very strong bonds with people through this process - so more connected and more isolated at the same time?).

How can I really tell that I'm living in a bubble?
- We get sooo excited when mail comes. Not mail for me, mail for anyone (but mail for me is the best, hehe)
- Food rotation in the dining hall!
For example: soup with dinner (for the winter season, I suppose); green bell peppers (last year I always bought green peppers because they were the cheapest and came to despise them; now I'm just happy that it's something new); oatmeal or pancakes for breakfast; something other than chicken for Shabbat
- A three minute walk across the kibbutz seems SO far
- Drinking something other then Nescafe is an event

That's all for now

- M

Some Reflection

It has been an emotionally intense few weeks here at the Machon so I thought I would share some of the issues and feelings that have been consuming me for a while. I want to preface this post with the fact that I have done a lot of soul searching since I arrived, and that I am still very much working through how I feel and where I stand on a lot what I will be discussing, that I have come to question a lot more about what I used to take as a given than I ever expected, and that I am being challenged in ways that I never thought that I would.

I am not really sure where to start because there is so much to say, but since I have been talking with some friends here about Zionism and whether I identify myself as a Zionist, I may as well begin here. I could write books about this, but I'll try to stick to what has been in the front of my mind recently. Am I a Zionist? Well, at this point, I don't think I would identify as "Zionist" but I am certainly not an anti-Zionist. I have been struggling a lot with the notion of a Jewish State. Not the existence of Israel, but Israel as a Jewish State. Realizing (not that I didn't know before) and truly understanding the implications of maintaining Israel as a Jewish state is really problematic in many ways. It requires discrimination, racism, and inequality to maintain such a reality. My humanitarian side, my fundamental values of pursuing social justice, are violated.

On the other hand, I can't imagine not having a Jewish State. I do not feel a deep connection to land in the way that I expected to when I came here, but I can not describe what it is like to be part of the majority. It is assumed that you are Jewish. It is built into the social structure and the culture. There is no where else in the world that I could go to study Jewish text in the depth or breadth, surrounded by Jewish culture, so fully immersed in this way of life.

Even though I have no intention of making aliyah, I would still feel a great loss if Israel no longer exists. Spiritually more than anything, but my Judaism is definitely somehow connected to a Jewish State. I think it is important for diaspora Jews, who have every intention of remaining diaspora Jews to have the foundation, to have a "home."

So, how do I reconcile these two competing needs? First, as my good friend Anna put it, if I questioned the right of any state to exist based on treatment of minorities, human rights, etc. there would be no countries. I think what I struggle with most is the fact that these policies are somehow connected to Judaism.

Regardless, I do think that there can be a Jewish state with less discriminatory laws against the Bedouins, the Arab-Israelis, the Palestinians, and the non-Ashkenazi Jews that live here. I think that there can be equal rights for these citizens and that the integrity of the Jewishness of the state can be maintained. I am not suggesting that I would be ok if there was "only some" discrimination or that minorities get almost equal rights, I am just saying that I do not think a Jewish state and equal rights are necessarily mutually exclusive. Perhaps in the manifestation of the state as we know it today, with the agenda and the motivations that drive these policies, but as an ideal, I like to think that it is not impossible. But I wonder.

I have been applying to graduate school (I really shouldn't be sharing this, for what happens if I am not accepted?) which has forced me to think long and hard about what I actually want to do with my life. Conflict Resolution. In the Middle East. My personal views on Israel as a Jewish State are important to this questions. As are the emotions that I have experienced when listening to my fellow students talk about some of their stories, some of the terrible experiences they have had while going through checkpoints or serving in the Army. In some respects I feel very much like an outsider. I can absolutely empathize with them, but I can only imagine what it must be like. That puts me in an ideal position to do mediation, conflict resolution work, right? Well, hearing these stories and listening to the reactions of other students has also forced me to confront my biases and prejudices. I have had physical reactions to both the stories and the responses - pain, anger, frustration, confusion, sadness.

So, can I really do this type of work? If I needed to be objective, not to take a side, go against my feelings (which I am sometimes embarrassed and horrified by) would I be able to? On the other hand, I am aware of the fact that my initial emotional reaction is not necessarily representative of what is just or what should be. I realize that I have to take a step back to look at the facts, to really listen to both sides, to acknowledge and validate all of the experiences here. But it is so hard. Hard to confront my demons, the fact that my gut reaction is not always what I think is just. Will I burnout if I actually try to make this my career? But I am passionate about it. And I have tried to find other passions, other directions, but I have not been satisfied. And emotions are important. How else can one relate to others, to understand, to realize that the intangible affects the tangible and that these feelings are what inform or actions?

I do not expect to find any "answers" to these issues, but I am excited, an perhaps a bit nervous, to see what I discover during the rest of my time here. A lot can happen. After all, I have only been here for two and a half months and I still have six to go.

- M

Peace?

So, the vast majority of our trip focused on social/environmental issues in Israel, but one day was devoted solely to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict for which we attended an all-day conference entitled "Toward a Lasting Solution: Evaluation of the Peace Process, One Year After Annapolis." Some very reputable and important figures spoke including Ron Ponduk, Yair Hirschfeld, Lucy Nusseibeh, the former PM of Jordan, and other academics and politicians. I was obviously really excited about attending and wasn't disappointed with what I heard. Of course, there were some speakers who didn't say much of anything, but I thought there was a surprising amount of substance given the forum and constraints placed on the participants.

I was a bit frustrated and upset when I heard from others today that they felt the conference was a waste of time, that they didn't see the point in us going as this is an environmental studies program, and that nothing concrete was said about how to change the facts on the ground now. First of all, I understand that a lot of people are here primarily for the environmental aspects of the program, but the whole point is that environmental issues are inherently social issues, and we can't make any significant environmental impact without regional cooperation, which would require some sort of peace agreement. Second, there is an explicit peace building/coexistence component to the program - that's why Israelis, Jordanians, Palestinians, and Americans are here together. We are doing on the grassroots level what needs to be done at other levels of society.

In terms of failing to hear anything concrete or any immediate measures that can affect conditions on the ground, that wasn't really what the conference was about. The first session basically set the stage for the rest of the conference giving us background on the current situation, measures that the PA have taken thus far, the current political situation in Israel, etc. The rest of the speakers focused on the alternative solutions to the Annapolis conference and other efforts that have been made in the past. The point was to look at how negotiations could be more effective and how leaders can approach negotiations and the conflict differently. We weren't hearing from grassroots activists, we were listening to academics and politicians. I'm not saying that it is the best way to come at the issues, but people need to consider the purpose of the conference.

I also think that straightforward, rational proposals have been tried before and failed, and the point was to look at the underlying causes for the failure of those ideas and of the conflict itself. For example, Lucy Nusseibeh discussed psychological barriers to negotiation, particularly the notion of splitting and projection. The idea is that people or groups develop a sense of victimhood due to traumas they have experienced and that they get stuck in that mentality. It leads one to divide emotions into "all good" and "all bad" - splitting - and then attributing the bad emotions to the other. This defense mechanism allows one to externalize an internal conflict. I realize that this discussion is fairly abstract, but it also enables us to gain a deeper understanding for why conflict persists and becomes more entrenched, which might give us an opportunity to figure out how to address these issues.

We also heard a really interesting discussion regarding the language used in the Arab Peace Initiative. Ilai Alon suggested that the document was credible based on his reading of the Arabic text. I won't get into details, but there are some important conclusions to be drawn...the Peace Initiative can be seen as a confidence building measure on behalf of the Arab League, Israel and the West failed to understand the enormity of the effort made by the Arab leaders, and that we should be promoting the significance of the document as a way to propel negotiations forward.

There were definitely some speakers that did not contribute much to the conference including Knesset Member Amira Dotan who just kept saying that it is important for the two sides to talk to one another, that people-to-people activities are crucial. I wasn't very impressed until one of the audience members asked her to come to a protest that was occurring outside of a Palestinian home in Jerusalem because the family had been forcefully evicted. I was expecting her to politely decline, but her response was, "of course I will come." If that isn't trying to affect some real change, I don't know what is.

If you're interested in reading more, information about the conference, bios of the participants, and the full papers can be found at http://www.bringingpeacetogether.org//default.asp?mode=page&pageID=22

- M