Just Listen

This week I had two noteworthy experiences, both in Hebrew.

The first was my visit to the Hand in Hand school in Jerusalem, one of only three schools in Israel where Jewish and Arab children learn together, speak Hebrew and Arabic, and learn about each other's cultures. I am writing a story on the school for Heeb magazine's upcoming "Kids" issue.

To my mild horror, I found myself speaking with teachers in Hebrew and writing down what they said in English (using a notepad taken from the home of my Boston Globe reporter friends). As a college of mentor of mine used to say, "fake it 'til you make it!"

My speaking level is many months of practice behind my comprehension, reading and writing levels. This means that when people hear me speak Hebrew, they assume I don't understand much. In reality, I can read basic newspaper articles, fully understand soap operas and reality shows, and write entire essays without using a dictionary. These are skills learned in my academic ulpan. Since I very rarely speak Hebrew in my free time, it's that piece of the language I have made the least progress in.

The Hand in Hand school was inspiring in any language. Though I've lived in Israel almost three years between this stint and the volunteer year, I've never been to a place where the ideals of co-existence and mutual respect have been put into practice so passionately.

As with the GLBT Jerusalem Open House, you can correctly assume that some Jerusalem municipal leaders work to deny this utopian co-existence school funding. The pretense this time is that the school allows Arab students to commemorate "al-Nakhba" ("the catastrophe"), known to Israelis as their Independence Day.

It's obvious to me that there will never be "peace" until people on both sides come to learn and respect the narratives of "the other." That the creation of Israel was a miracle and God-send for the Jewish people, and something less than that for local Arabs, should not surprise anyone. There is no point in denying the past or seeking to invalidate alternate narratives, especially since none of these children carried guns in 1948, or today for that matter.

I spent two hours at the school and was intrigued to watch a Palestinian math teacher explain a problem in both Hebrew and Arabic to Jewish and Palestinian students. The people at Hand in Hand do not merely preach co-existence and acceptance, they make it happen every day of the year.

My second experience was a two-hour taxi ride from Haifa to Jerusalem the other night (don't worry, I didn't pay for it). My driver - named Tomer - was 69 years old and came to Israel is 1949, after hiding out in forests during the Holocaust. I learned about his role in all of Israel's subsequent wars (Intelligence), his take on today's political leaders, assessment of the Arab world's alleged desire for a two-state solution, and a host of other topics.

This man knows every corner of the country and it was exhilarating to traverse the coastal plain with someone who has literally lived the history of the state. I thought about my own love for Israel and how my experiences here are (and will never be) anything like his - surviving the Holocaust, spending three decades serving many weeks a year in the reserves, etc.

We also talked about the role of Zionism in the lives of Israelis in my generation, and how it is no longer taken for granted that a Jewish state is a necessity and worthwhile. I have been reading an academic book about "post-Zionism" scholars who seek to delegitimize Israel's right to exist as a Jewish state. I wonder how many of these esteemed scholars had their families killed in the Holocaust, and how many have had to physically defend their freedom and right to survive in Israel.

This was probably the longest conversation I've ever had in Hebrew. Though my speech was riddled with grammatical errors and mispronounced words, I understood almost everything Tomer said. When he dropped me off in Jerusalem at midnight, he turned around for the two-hour trip back to his wife in Haifa, this 69-year old man who is a walking history exhibit of modern Israel.

With G-d's help I will be around in four decades to explain Israel's past to a Hebrew student like myself one day. Assumedly, I will have better grammar and - we can only pray - there will be much less bloodshed on which to reflect. Both my visit to the Hand in Hand school and the two-hour cab ride reminded me that to get to such a point, we must first learn to listen.

(Above, one of my photos from Jerusalem's Hand in Hand School)