This is supposed to be a page for keeping track of our travels. We’re in Oaxaca now— the city. In 2 weeks, we’ll head to the beach, by Puerto Escondido. This Airbnb we’re in now is built on the hill almost as high as the Guelaguetza Theater, the place where Oaxaca holds its world-famous indigenous and folk dance festival every summer. When Christopher lived in Oaxaca for a year, in the early 90’s, none of this was built up. The theater was so on its own, set apart and above the city, that he thought it was outside the city. Our street is called Panorámica del Fortín, and it is teeming with multilevel houses, hostels, “miscelanea” (bodegas), and a couple restaurants, our favorite of which, Humito, is owned by Lila Downs! (Google her if you don’t know her music). Meanwhile, literally next door to us is a bunch of … dwellings? What do you call houses that aren’t houses, without indoor plumbing, doors or even a front wall? It’s like a 3-story lean-to, each apartment shielded from the driving rain by a blanket hanging on a rope. The family in the apartment closest to us has a brand new baby— like, BRAND NEW, like, I thought s/he was maybe born in the apartment and I was seeing them take them out for their first sunlight! And here we are next door, in all of our privilege, taking a year to just explore the world.
I was thinking of our neighbors as I went on a deep Wikipedia dive into the history of Gaza yesterday AM. I kept seeing it called a “giant, open-air prison.” There is poverty all over the world. Poverty is very, very hard to escape from. Was the former-holder-of-an-Israeli-passport in me apologizing for the blockade of Gaza? Egypt maintains the blockade, too. Hamas didn’t attack them this weekend. Gaza stands as an example of the Occupation to everyone in the world, even though Israel doesn’t exactly “occupy” it; there are no settlements. Having spent considerable time in a West Bank settlement when I lived in Israel, that whole scene really disgusted and infuriated me. I was there in 2005 when Israel “disengaged” from Gaza. I never saw Gaza with my own eyes, whereas the dichotomy, the disjunction of the West Bank towns vs the Israeli “settlements,” which really should be called something much more permanent, with their shopping malls and restaurants and INFRASTRUCTURE… How someone can live in poverty while having to see every day the privilege next door to you, that seems like torture. At least here, we can say buenos días, buenas tardes, etc (the boys are loving how saying hello changes for the time of day), and “¡que lindo bebé!” We’re not separated by checkpoints or bulletproof glass. We can look each other in the eye. Which makes me realize the real torture is the isolation.
One last thing on my mind: a Japanese friend of mine, mom of Aryeh’s friend, asked me what Hebrew school was like, and I told her they learn about holidays, Hebrew letters, songs, etc. I asked her if they were members of a religious community, and she said no, and then hesitated for a moment— “My husband and I, we believe that religion is the reason for all wars, so …” She shrugged.
A friend of mine, talking about the events of this past weekend, wrote, “One thing’s for sure: I stand with atheism.” And it’s true that the extremists on both sides of this— Hamas and the far-right, pro-settler Israeli government— are religious. But my friends in Israel are some of the least religious people I’ve ever known. Judaism is defined in Hebrew as an “am,” meaning nation. For me, the saddest part of Israel/Palestine is that the lesson we should have learned from the Holocaust was not just “never again,” but also: everyone needs a home, and not just land but an actual country that will defend you and your rights. And we Jews should be the first to budge over and make room, especially as there is ample evidence in Israel itself that coexistence is possible. I know I’m writing stuff here that is beyond banal and cliché and heard before. Maybe if I just bang my head against this wall over here, change will happen. Sigh.
I was very much hoping that we’d make it to Israel on this journey, and to that end I’ve been more in touch with friends over there, this last month or so, than I’d been in years. Playing chamber music with people is a sure fire way to build some strong connections, and I’m really thankful for them now, and thinking a lot about my musical family over there.
