EMU Intercultural Learning

Guatemala: Alta Verapaz

We’re back from five breathtaking days in Guatemala’s Alta Verapaz, where we stayed with the organization Community Cloud Forest Conservation, led Rob and Tara Cahill, along with teachers and staff from the surrounding Q’eqchi’ communities. CCFC is working with the conservation of the rapidly diminishing cloud forest, as it intersects with the lives and well-being of the people who live there. The work of this organization is far-reaching. There are two main community programs: Kids and Birds, which is a summer-camp-style environmental education experience for children, and Women in Agroecology Leadership for Conservation (WALC). Through WALC, young women learn life skills and leadership, but also plant agroforestry plots, as an alternative form of agriculture that both repairs degraded forest areas and can be a source of nutritionally dense food. CCFC is addressing both social and environmental issues holistically, and coming up with some wonderfully creative solutions.

CCFC – Photo by Alex Rosenberg

During our five days in the cloud forest, we spent three nights in the CCFC facilities, which are filled with windows, light, and wood. The facility was built with careful attention to resource conservation. We got to experience composting toilets, showers heated in pipes that ran through wood cook stoves, and meals featuring ingredients like cloud forest spinach. It felt like there was no boundary between “indoors” and “outdoors.” We got to spend a lot of time outside in the cloud forest. We hiked through the forest two different days, both times reaching caves that were historically places of Mayan worship.

Our other two nights were spent with host families, which we all agreed was one of the most difficult things we’ve done so far on this cross-cultural. We were living in houses perched on the edges of the mountains, in the community of Sebob. While there, we ate meals cooked around a fire, interacted with the intergenerational families who were hosting us, and played a lot of soccer. We wheezed up steep hills (our host siblings nonchalantly sprinting ahead of us), slept on boards, bundled in all of the clothes we’d packed, and tried our best not to cough as billows of smoke from cooking fires hit our faces. Even in writing that, I am cringing a little bit. We all know how incredibly privileged we were to be there, how hospitable our host families were, how little we have to complain about in our daily lives. As we walked down that mountain for the last time, I wrestled with feelings of guilt at the bit of relief I felt at returning to the CCFC buildings, with their hot showers and soft beds. These mixed feelings of gratitude and guilt linger with me, as I return to life at school in the city.

That week gave me a lot to think about in regards to how we talk about conservation and issues of environmental stewardship, since this is one of CCFC’s main areas of focus. Because I am an Environmental Sustainability major at EMU, I was particularly interested in seeing the intersection of culture and environment from an angle other than that of the United States. Our relationship with the environment, and how we respond to environmental degradation, are so dependent on where we were born, who our families are, and what our surrounding culture says about environmental stewardship. I saw a lot of similarities between the U.S. and Guatemala in our environmental concerns: the ways that so many of us take for granted our natural resources, our rapidly dwindling forests, climate change as a life-altering force in all of our lives, the cultural significance of agriculture. Continue reading

India: Kolkata, Varanasi and Bodhgaya

We were told that Kolkata was an 18 hour train ride from New Delhi. The train ended up being 5 hours late and taking 30 hours to reach our destination. One of the “four rules of India” is “anytime after sometime,” and we were truly experiencing this rule!

I cannot, however, say this experience was negative. We had the opportunity to meet and get to know some truly interesting people. They were asking about what we were doing here, and they were quick to share their knowledge about their country and Kolkata. I learned that Kolkata is called the “City of Joy.” This was interesting to hear because Kolkata is known for pollution and poverty worse than New Delhi.

The name, “City of Joy,” did not disappoint me. The locals were all incredibly nice, many asking “Hi. How are you?” as we walked by. Some of the streets even had music playing from large speakers! This, along with wonderfully detailed and colorful architecture, captivated me.

None of those parts were the most impactful, however. It was the smiling faces of those from harder circumstances. They were obviously in need, but you could never tell by their faces. This was a huge reminder that money and possessions should not be my source of joy. Relationships are more important, and this entire trip has been pushing me to reevaluate priorities and “needs.”

 -Hannah Walker

 

Visit to Varanasi
I enjoyed…
-observing the rituals associated with funerals. Fires could be found along the Ganga, where the dead were being cremated.
-learning about the rich history of Varanasi along the bank of the Ganga.
-feeding the birds on the boat during the smog-obscured sunrise. I must admit that we ate some of the bird food.
-trying on saris and looking stylish for the first time on the trip.
-witnessing the national holiday, Republic Day of India. Everyone was cheering, singing, and running through the temple that we were trying to learn about.
-discovering more about the life of Buddha through large murals in a temple dedicated to him.
-visiting the Banaras Hindu University, which is known as one of the greatest learning centers in India. It played an important role in the Indian independence movement.
-walking through the streets of Varanasi and interacting with the people who live there.
-Maia Garber

Fun Times in Bodhgaya – a haiku
I got really sick
I threw up so many times
Nine to be exact
-Andrew Peltier


 

Group picture at the Taj Mahal

Guatemala: Bucket List

Bucket List for Guatemala:

✓ -Watch a volcanic eruption from our classroom window

-Hike a volcano and roast marshmallows at the top (this coming weekend!)

-Take a moto (motorcycle) ride around the city

✓ -Barter down prices at the central market

-Have a conversation with a stranger in Spanish

✓ -Attend Catholic Mass (one with indigenous flair)

✓ -Visit “the most beautiful lake in the world,” (Atitlán)

-Climb the palaces and temples of Tikal

-Zipline through a Guatemalan forest (free travel?)

-Ride a chicken bus to Antigua

✓ – Squish a lot of people into a small amount of space, transportation-wise

-Bake snickerdoodle cookies for my host family (and figure out how to work the oven)

I find simple pleasure in coming home after school around 5 or 5:30 and sitting down in the living room with my host mom and abuelita, talking about anything from weather to shoes to food to family to the traffic, the depth and subject matter expanding the more Spanish I learn. But along with those times of contentment come frustrations of living in a family with a different religion (Neo-Pentecostal megachurch attendees), different customs (watching sermons on tv (see “religion”) while eating dinner), different ideas of health (don’t sleep with your hair wet or walk barefoot on the tile – you’ll get a cold), and many, many communication difficulties.

Just two days ago, I came home from school and wanted to go on a run. We had talked about it the day before, and I reminded my family, thinking I was conveying it well, before I went upstairs to change. When I came back down, both my host mom and abuelita were ready, too. Apparently they were coming, too, and were excited to join me on my “run,” which was now a walk to and from the park down the street. I was disappointed, wanting some time to myself and to get some real exercise after eating mostly processed foods the past week. However, walking through the neighborhood close to dusk, many families were out, strolling to the little tienda nearby to get a staple for dinner, passing each other with friendly waves – there was this small town feel nestled in the midst of a sprawling city, and I didn’t realize how much I had missed greeting acquaintances with pleasantries, like on EMU’s campus.

I live in a colonia, or a gated neighborhood, and while I knew I should appreciate the safety measures surrounding me, I felt caged most of the time. I realize, without the walls and gates, I wouldn’t have experienced that small community feeling of Monday night, but overall, we are still surrounded by imposing “safeness.” Stores are guarded by men with guns and rifles. CASAS is surrounded by walls. Most houses, mine included, are surrounded by walls, within the larger wall of the community. “Con cuidado,” is my host mom’s parting words to me every day when I leave for school. I experience the cognitive dissonance of living in Guatemala City with the knowledge and many warnings from my host families that the city can be very dangerous, while experiencing nothing more harmful than wolf whistles from passing motos. I count our group blessed that we haven’t encountered worse, and maybe it’s because we are white people from the US. Maybe I don’t find it dangerous because I am not the main target population for gangs, and we’ve been wisely kept from the “red zones” of the city, but when I read an article last week that claimed Guatemala City to be “one of the most dangerous cities in the world,” I wondered if that was true, and if so, dangerous for whom?

I have always lived near cities, in towns and suburbs with large populations, but they did very little to prepare me for Guatemala City. Every day, a bombardment of the senses accompanies the walk to the microbus – the smells of baking bread from panaderias, diesel, trees and flowers, masses of people, and the sounds of whistles, honking, engines revving, fireworks, dogs barking, roosters crowing, “singing” (screaming) birds, and again, masses of people. Traffic causes most of my sensory overload: the number of cars on the road, the poor conditions of some roads, the traffic laws (and lack thereof), and both extremes of speed – way too fast when there’s a free 100 meters of space in front of the car and not moving at all during rush hour(s) – it’s all a bit overwhelming. The idea of driving a car here puts me into a cold sweat. However, I haven’t seen a single accident, yet, so it must work for them.

Those are just some of my thought processes of the last few weeks here. It’s lovely. I’m happy and sometimes homesick. See you in 2.5 months, US!

— Anali North Martin

Guatemala & Cuba 2018

Guatemala: Privelege and contrast

Last Tuesday after classes, everyone loaded into the CASAS minivans on an unusual tourist excursion. We were not headed to the national museum, nor to the presidential mansion, but to the cemetery: a resting place for some of Guatemala’s wealthiest elite that also happens to overlook the city dump.

We arrived to elaborate cast iron gates set in a high stucco wall that insulated the cemetery from the noise and bustle of the city. Inside, we found cyprus-draped roads lined by magnificent mausoleums, crumbling monuments, and elaborate marble statuary boasting the remains of some of the city’s best-known generals and politicians. The silent streets were in a surreal state of leisurely decay: gothic spires crumbled after years of neglect, joining the ruins of the long-forgotten Mayan tombs over which the graveyard was constructed in the mid-19th century. Only the monuments of the immortally wealthy—such as the massive [Egyptian] pyramid built in tribute to the Castillo family—escaped the general atmosphere of deterioration.

I wandered down the empty streets with the rest of the group, listening to our guide explain the historical and symbolic significance of the memorials we passed. As we neared the fringes of the cemetery, the decadent, crumbling mausoleums gave way to chaotic walls peppered with tiny marble placards, photographs, and faded silk flowers. Thousands of tiny crypts within these walls held the remains of those who lived by a humbler standard than the elite whose tombs we had seen earlier. But, even these memorials represented a relatively wealthy population: anyone who wished to be buried here had to arrange for an annual rent to be paid postmortem—otherwise their remains would be “evicted” and their crypt would be leased out to someone else. Continue reading

Guatemala: Daily rhythms

Last Thursday, I woke up early and stepped outside into a gorgeous, sunny, Guatemala morning. It was our first day at CASAS. After a long day of airplane rides and a late night arrival, it was refreshing to finally begin the second part of our journey. The group was surprisingly animated for a short night’s sleep, probably due to anxieties surrounding our upcoming events: our first day of Spanish classes and the introduction to our host families. A walk through the beautiful flora and fauna of the CASAS courtyard helped to put our minds at ease.

It has now been week since we first arrived. The excitement and anxiety surrounding our recent arrival has subsided, replaced by the comfortable consistency of routine. Every day, I wake up around 6 a.m. to quickly take a shower before my host brother, Jacobo (35), gets out of bed. My breakfast, a bowl of cereal and a cup of instant coffee, is waiting for me on the table thanks to the hospitality of mi madre, Gladys. My sister, Andrea (25), left the house before I got up and won’t return until I am already asleep since she works during the day and goes to the university at night. She barely sleeps.

Jacobo takes my two friends, Anali and Elizabeth, and me to CASAS every morning. We arrive about an hour early so we have plenty of time to relax in the courtyard, drink some coffee, do some homework and talk with the rest of the group members as they slowly trickle in. Spanish classes start at 8:30 and go until 12:30 when we have an hour break for lunch. The afternoon activities vary depending on the day. Early this week we visited the city dump where hundreds of people dig through the trash to find things to recycle for a paycheck of 10 quetzales a day (about $1.40). It’s the 4th generation of workers that has been born and raised in the dump. We also visited a gorgeous outdoor mall that would rival some of the nicest malls in the U.S. which was a stark contrast from the dump we had been the day before.

After school, Elizabeth, Anali and I are either picked up by one of our family members or ride the bus back home. I knock on the big metal door that guards the entrance to my family’s house and mi madre greets me at the door. I sit for a while and converse with her and the family friend Narda about our days. My siblings arrive at various times throughout the night. Monica (32) comes home from her job as an architect around 6:30 and Jacobo comes home around 8:00. My other brother Manolo (34), gets home on his motorcycle around 8:45 and we spend some time together conversing, playing games or watching T.V. I crawl into bed around 10:30, exhausted from a long day of dual language conversation.

Despite the lack of sleep, I look forward to waking up every day to watch the group grow closer, understand the language more clearly, and encounter new experiences in unfamiliar contexts.

-Sol Brenneman


 

Guatemala & Cuba 2018

Delhi Reflections

We landed in the capital city, Delhi, at around 1 a.m. local time on Monday morning. Half-awake and disoriented, we scrabbled to find our checked bags, hopped onto a bus, and arrived at a hostel just after 5 a.m. This put us at around 30 hours of traveling from when we left EMU at noon on Saturday!

The following morning, we got up respectably early to fend off the jet lag and tour the more modern section of the city called New Delhi. This was an effective introduction to India as we immediately faced poverty, the chaotic traffic, and street vendors trying to get us to buy their products. Furthermore, New Delhi is accustomed to tourism so we were able to ease into being a minority in such a large city.

It wasn’t until Wednesday – when we visited the more archaic section of the city called Old Delhi — that many of us began to feel the culture shock that India presented. Motorcycles, rickshaws, and compact cars packed the streets as we staggered through the metropolis to tour Jama Masjid, the largest mosque in India, and eventually eat at a popular Muslim restaurant called Karim’s. The smell of the urine, feces, and pollution wafted through the air, and at one point, I was certain that every square foot in front of me was occupied.

Personally, one of the most shocking aspects of touring Old Delhi was watching the poverty pass us by after gorging ourselves at a local eatery. We crammed into Karim’s and ordered kabobs, buttered and garlic naan, delicious buttered chicken, and other mouth watering Indian foods. However, when we finished up our feast, thoughts were swimming in my head as we walked past the homeless. How could we just ignore these beggers after filling our stomachs with more than enough food? What could I do to help? Where do these people find shelter?

I look forward to processing these questions with my peers in the future and digging into the issues surrounding modern-day India. The trip has blown my mind already and we haven’t even been here for a week!

-Ben Zook

Delhi Reflection

into the noise
and bustling crowd
I am walking
faster than my aching heart

journeys so distant
drawing closer
in moments amidst the blur

each alley
each space
bound in new color
weaving and breathing
with human life

– Luke Mullet

Group picture at the Taj Mahal

Guatemala & Cuba: Two sides of our wall

“This wall is not Trump’s wall. This is our wall. This is how we as a country choose to mark our border.”

I know my words cannot do justice to the week we spent at the U.S./Mexico border, so I figured I might as well start with someone else’s. This was said by Mark Adams, one of the coordinators for Frontera de Cristo (Christ’s Border), upon our arrival in the border town of Douglas, Arizona. Our first stop in Douglas was the wall, a towering 23 foot structure that plunges 6 feet below the ground as well. The wall is constructed of tall metal bars spaced far enough apart that border patrol agents can see what’s happening on the México side.

Mark asked us to go around and share what we have heard people in our hometown area say about immigration. It turned into a political analysis, with many of us citing our own family’s left-leanings in contrast to our town’s more conservative politics. We thought we knew what we were talking about: liberal=pro-immigration, conservative=pro-wall. It turns out it is way more complicated than that.

The wall has been a bipartisan effort for a while now, starting back in the Clinton administration. The wall is 23 feet tall in the town, but out in the desert it peters out into a low vehicle barrier. The Clinton administration hoped to use the lethal deterrent of the desert landscape to lower the rate of illegal immigration. It was lethal, but it wasn’t a deterrent. I’m trying to wrap my mind around the fact that our country’s official policy is that we would rather have migrant people die in the desert than live in our country.

We spent the week crossing back and forth between Douglas and its sister city, Agua Prieta, México. We stayed in a church on the Agua Prieta side, and spent our days visiting people, the desert, the wall, listening to stories, asking so many questions.

We spoke to a woman who was held in detention for three months, unable to communicate with her children or even know if they were okay. She was pulled over for speeding and didn’t have her papers.

We learned about what the migrant people are fleeing from: gang violence, economic ruin. We learned that people wouldn’t leave their homes if they didn’t have to; and we learned about our own country’s hand Continue reading

Israel-Palestine: the Jesus Trail and alternate narratives in the West Bank

Walking the Jesus Trail –  Lindsay Acker

I loved the Jesus Trail. It was really hard physically and at times I wanted nothing more than to fall over and stay down. When we sat down for lunch or at ruins, it was so hard to stand up. It was more physically draining than anything I’ve ever done. But the spiritual renewal was incredible.

First of all, I had no idea my body was capable of that. God truly does amazing things. He has created incredible beings and he gives us amazing strength we don’t know of. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as empowered as I did on the trail. Ever. God is great!

Second, I have a spiritual connection to the Galilee now. It’s not because Jesus walked there. It’s because I walked there.

This drew me closer to Jesus not because I felt his presence, but because I connected to the same land he connected to. We love the same hills. We walked the same-ish paths. We ate the same-ish things. And we took shelter in the same-ish places. I’m sure he was just as relieved to reach Cana at the end of his journey as I was that first day. I feel like my friend shared something they love with me, and we are closer for it.

Highlights of the Jesus Trail – members of the EMU team

  1. Visiting Nazareth Village and staying in Fauzi Azar Inn with all of its stone arches and beautiful painted ceilings.
  2. Reading the Beatitudes while sitting on the Mount of Beatitudes (we hiked to three possible sites where Jesus may have given his Beatitudes sermon)
  3. Visiting the Synagogue in Migdal, the town which is the birthplace of Mary Magdalene and the most verifiable location of a place where Jesus actually sat and talked about the Torah.
  4. Hiking to the Horns of Hattin (these may actually be the real Mt of Beatitudes)
  5. Staying overnight at the organic, vegan Yarok Oz Goat Farm. We spent a night there and it was peaceful and quiet and the food was amazing!!
  6. Hiking down the cliffs of Arbel, which resembled a movie set from Lord of the Rings
  7. Swimming in the Sea of Galilee 

Our Guide on the Trail –  Ethan Mathews

Besides the vast beauty of the area we hiked in, our guide also added to our experience on the Jesus Trail. He was a twenty-eight-year-old Israeli who had decided to take the path less traveled by not going to university after his military service. Instead, he decided to travel and become a tour guide, and in my eyes, a pretty good one.

When we first met our guide he told us that he was a secular Jew. I know, a secular Jew teaching us about where Jesus walked? He did an amazing job respecting Christianity regardless. Our guide was an interesting guy to hang out with and talk to as well, even when some of the conversations had to do with the conflict. After he was brought up to speed on our dual narrative trip, he was very open and honest about his point of view on this conflict. He was also willing to listen when an idea that he didn’t exactly agree with came up.

 

Sharing in Community Work in Bethlehem – members of the EMU team

Service is an important part of cross-cultural learning.  It is hard to truly see local culture while being a tourist on a big bus. Sometimes, our big white bus feels like an alien ship landing in little villages. While we have stopped at many places for short visits, there is something really nice about unpacking our bags and living in a place Continue reading

ToN - We Refuse to be enemies

ISRAEL-PALESTINE: Three Weeks in Bethlehem

Let’s talk about car horns

In the US, a honking horn almost always expresses anger—get out of my way, you cut me off—that sort of thing. Don’t get me wrong, that happens in Bethlehem as well, but a honk can mean so much more here:

  • Warning, I’m behind you on a small street
  • I want to merge in front of you
  • I’m going to merge regardless of whether or not you want me to
  • Don’t try to merge, I’m not letting you in
  • hurry up and merge, I’m letting you in
  • Thanks for letting me in
  • Move over!
  • Why have we stopped!?
  • Please come out of that store and move your car, it’s in my way
  • Come out of that store, I’m here to pick you up
  • I’m going around you
  • Hey, I know you, how are you?
  • Oh, I’m doing well, how about you?
  • Do you need a ride?
  • From taxi drivers: Where are you going? Want to go to Jericho? Hebron? Dead Sea? Tel Aviv? Beit Sahour? Beit Jala? The Nativity?
    • The last one is usually when I am about 1/4 mile from the Church of the Nativity. I don’t know where they wanted to take me or how, but my backpack and white skin immediately identifies me as a “lost tourist” no matter what I am doing.
  • Go!
  • Stop!

The list goes on.  Slowly, we stopped jumping in shock at the sound of honking and learned that the person is most likely not angry and is just driving behind us on the cramped street and wants to let us know they are coming through. When this happens, we casually move closer to the wall, praying there is enough room for the person to scrape by without hitting us. The nuance of a car horn really is amazing. I think we have deciphered the message within the length and number of honks—so we are really learning three languages here—Arabic, Hebrew, and car!

The only one that still really bugs me is the long, blaring honk in stopped traffic. We get it, you are not moving . . . but continuing to hold down the horn for twenty seconds isn’t helping you move either!

 

A Visit to Um Al Khair

On the morning of October 2nd, our group drove from Bethlehem to the Bedouin village of Um Al-Khair, unrecognized by the Israeli government. An unrecognized village receives no services, meaning no connection to water, electricity, or sewers. As we approached the village from the main road, the contrast with the settlement next door was astonishing. Um Al Khair is a small village with pieced-together houses of scrap metal, wood, and plastic,  while the settlement of Carmel has nice houses, green grass, street lights, and running water. We were in Um Al Khair to help tend their olive trees and learn about how and why the Israeli government has issued demolition orders on their homes.

Before the establishment of Israel, Bedouins moved around the land herding their sheep and goats. But after 1948, they were given a choice: either serve in the Israeli military or leave their land. This community chose to leave their land, which had been located near the city of Arad. They were moved to a remote and unoccupied part of the desert. They built small tin and mud brick shacks and remade their lives. Now they are surrounded by Jewish settlements and new developments of Western-style houses. The Israeli government tells them that even though they recognize that the Bedouins have legal ownership of the land they were moved to in 1948, they do not have permission to build anything on their land. No new houses, no house additions, no mud ovens to bake their bread, no major repairs—nothing! Continue reading

ToN - We Refuse to be enemies

ISRAEL-PALESTINE: Desert life and reflections

Why aren’t more people using THESE alternative energy sources?

Throughout our time at Kibbutz K’tura the group has listened to several lectures and participated in a variety of Kibbutz activities. Perhaps the most memorable for me was the visit to K’tura’s “Off the Grid” village. As an initiative stemming from the strong emphasis on environmentalism and research, Kibbutz K’tura has created a village to simulate various possible “off the grid” devices.

We began the session discussing the three stipulations that categorize any location as “off the grid”: No connection to state-provided water, sewage, and electricity. Of course these three resources are essential to a healthy life and instead of focusing on living without water, sewage and electricity, the village provides innovative ways to provide the three conditions through inexpensive, renewable energy sources that do not need to be connected to any national system. We began in the village garden which receives water from a well attached to a portable solar panel pump sending water up to a retention basin (giant bucket) three feet off the ground. The portable solar panel pump was designed by Engineers Without Borders to ensure mobility and efficiency at a low cost. The garden uses a low-pressure drip system to trickle water out slowly but constantly.

In order to truly be considered “off the grid”, the village would need to be equipped with composting toilets to eliminate any sort of sewage system. Unfortunately, K’tura’s village does not have any restroom accommodations, however, they currently have a solar-powered water filtration system to ensure the recycling of water for continued use. Our guide pointed out what looked like a satellite dish pointing up towards the sky. Water is pumped into this dish and pushed through filter pipes that are heated from the sun. The process distills the water so purely that the water actually needs to be re-salinated and mineralized before being used on crops or it will actually pull salt from the ground and ruin the crops. Unfortunately, because of where the Arava desert sits on the sun-radiation scale, this water purification system can only be used during the winter months because the dish gets so hot that it would melt the metal pipes that carry the water through the purification process. However, in most other parts of the world (where it isn’t 114° Fahrenheit in the summer) the system would be able to work year round.

Next we toured three different “huts” built to represent varying climate conditions and needs around the world. We began in a wooden structure fitted with one solar panel to provide electricity for light, phone/computer power, and a fan. The most interesting feature was a solar oven. In several pictures you can see what looks like black lights but instead are double walled glass tubes with vacuum space in between and a tube of black aluminum in the center. The sun comes in as light and goes through the first layer of glass, the vacuum, the second layer of glass and then gets turned into heat when it reaches the black aluminum. The heat, which cannot travel through vacuum space, remains on the inside of the glass and creates a miniature oven inside the tube. Although it is small and would require lots of time to cook a complete meal, the ingenuity is incredible. The oven can heat to 300° C in full sun, and was deemed fully functional by EMU students after testing its power by baking coconut cookies (see photos).

There were two other notable gadgets; the first were sky lights made from filled water bottles inserted into the roof. Second, a compost bin used water and organic materials to create methane. Patented under the name “HomeBioGas”, this system is noteworthy because it can be taken to any place where people will have organic waste, and the methane can be used as a free source of cooking gas. Places struck by a natural disaster or facing large quantities of refugees could benefit immensely from having essentially free cooking gas that does not necessitate continual use of wood or coal or other polluting burnables.

It was refreshing and inspiring to spend some time exploring the gadgets that are being created in response to our unstable resource bank and surroundings that bend to nature. After three days discussing environmental degradation and resource depletion, it was fun and comforting to eat cookies baked by the sun while brainstorming ways that we as humans can adjust our habits to use less while still enjoying life and community. It has been challenging on this trip to not grow weary from negativity and burgeoning awareness of the complicated issues that face the Middle East and the world. Day after day of peacebuilding lectures can be overwhelming, however, visiting the off-grid village put my heart at ease knowing that there is still good in the world. It was a reminder that every step I take as an individual makes an impact, and perhaps with continued awareness, the efforts of another individual will become the efforts of many and the results will be evidenced through a lesser need of violence and conflict in our world.

-Adrienne Derstine

 

Kasui Sand Dunes – Spirituality in the Desert

It was over 100 degrees at 5pm when we began our hike up the rocky Kasui Mountains. If it weren’t for water/sweat evaporating so quickly, we would have been drenched before we reached the top. After the 15-20 minute hike to the top, we were greeted by shade, breathtaking views and very soft sand. We received a short explanation of the mountains, the sand and “spirituality in the desert” from Sara Cohen of Kibburz K’tura. She gave us time to run, roll, jump, etc. in the sand, up and down the dune. After our “play”, she requested that we go to a nearby spot, away from another member in our group, and sit in silence, listening to the sounds of the desert and thinking about why it has called so many prophets. Then we wrote down our thoughts and feelings of those moments.

Being from the tropics (Florida) I’d never experienced an extreme desert environment, much less “spirituality in the desert”. As I chose my spot at the top of the mountain I couldn’t help but notice God in every bit of the land and sky — the beautiful pallet of colors as the sun set, the change in color of the mountains, the howl of the wind as it made sand waves on the dunes (and covered us and our belongings in sand), the shapes of my friends as they took it all in too. And most important, the serenity in the midst of it all.

When we finished, we gathered under the stars for a dinner of freshly baked pita bread, hummus, veggies, and falafel. When our bellies were full we split into two smaller groups and shared our experiences. Some wrote poems about the landscape, others talked about their thoughts, some reflected on their past and families, and a few discussed their time with God.

Then, some stargazing.

I think we would all agree that this time in the desert has been one of the highlights of our trip so far, and something we won’t forget for a long time to come. Regardless of where each of us are on our spiritual journey, there surely is something to be said about the desert and what comes from it.

-Alice Maldonado

 

A Desert Heartbeat  –  A poem by Andy King

The constant roar of wind drowns out all but the silence

Millions of sand particles fly from dune to valley, never still

Sunlight dances through shades of crimson and violet, giving a final bow to the stars above

Brave beetles wander through an endless ocean of erosion

I am here; roaring, flying, dancing, wandering—thriving.

 

Here are some more rejected blog titles:

  • We’re a Complicated Family
  • “Let’s Not Burn Down the Desert” – Uncle Bill
  • “Anyone Up for a Game of Avalon?” – Ben Beidler aka Papa Tank
  • “Buddy is eating all of our sins!!” – Levi during the Taschlich ceremony on the dunes where the dogs eat the bread (sins) cast on the sand dunes (usually water)
  • “Those EMU students are so polite we almost feel sorry for stepping in front of them in line” – several Kibbutz members about our inability to move forward fast enough in a food line

 

We will pack the experiences from Kibbutz K’tura and carry all that we learned here about Zionism, Judaism and the environment. Next, our travels continue four hours north to Bethlehem, Palestine. Inshallah, we will not forget our Hebrew as we switch our studies to Arabic! Our group will be divided to live with ten different Palestinian-Arab Christian and Muslim families throughout the city. Onward in the Holy Land! Expect to hear from us relatively soon. Shalom. Salaam.

ToN - We Refuse to be enemies