Our First Trip to the West Bank

Earlier today, Logan looked at me. He said, “What are we doing right now? We are riding public transportation, in Israel, to the West Bank. Three no-nos.” The truth is we were crowded into a large public bus on our way from Jerusalem to Bethlehem in the West Bank.  I would hope that in reading this you would assume that we made it back safe.  We did.  We actually hope to do it again soon.  But why? Soccer.  Now I don’t want it to seem like all we do here is play soccer, I really wish that we could play more. It just so happens that once again we found ourselves making friends through the sport that we love. 

Yesterday we went with about eight people including Mrs. Wright from JUC to a suburb of Bethlehem called Beit Jala.  It is inhabited mostly by Christian Arabs. And one of the last “Christian” towns in the West Bank.  All of us volunteered to help at a Christian based school that was founded after the wall was put up. Jon Burke, a friend of ours, worked at the school a few years ago and told us we had to check it out.

When the wall was put in place Israel basically fenced in the Palestinians and they cannot leave.  Going into the West Bank is easy and they don’t even check passports.  Going out is much harder.  We had to walk through a series of security checkpoints.  Residents of the West Bank cannot enter the rest of Israel or, if they can, only for a few hours once or twice a week.  Because Israel put Palestine in a cage, these kids can no longer attend the school the used to in Jerusalem.  So this sister school opened up in Beit Jala. 

            When we were at the school yesterday we kept asking about coaching a soccer afterschool program.  I was very unsure at first because they kept saying it wasn’t happening.  But eventually we ran into one of the coaches in passing and he told us they had practice the next day and if we wanted to come to show up at the school at 9:30 in the morning.  So this morning we got up at 8:00, had a quick breakfast, slid on some gear, grabbed our passports and hopefully enough money for the bus and then ran outside – only to wait 30 minutes for the bus.  But it eventually came and we, along with a friend from Wheaton Academy, B.B. Taylor, hopped on.  It was here when we started to question what we were doing.  It was a pretty big bus and was crammed full of people (I had to sit on the floor for awhile).  But we trusted that God would keep us safe and he did. 

After some time waiting at the school shooting some hoops, we met the other coach David, and then we piled in a taxi with one of the players Ibrahim, and headed out of Bethlehem to another city in the West Bank, Beit Sahur.  Here we met some more of the players.   They were timid at first, as anyone would expect, we were a bit too, but as time went on it wore off. The complex was in the middle of rocky hills and off a dirt road.  I didn’t know what to expect at first.  What we came to was a little turf field that was a little smaller than a basketball court, fenced in with about three rows of stone bleachers – the best in the West Bank they said.  After a bit of a warm up and some drills we just played 4-v-4 plus keepers with them.  It was so much fun.  This time my team won (although I must admit, Logan scored some pretty nice goals).  The kids were slower and less technical than the people we found in the park but the tight space made the game fun.  It was more serious yet at the same time more laid back.  We would laugh and joke and encourage the kids as they scored or missed easy goals or got scored on.   Everyone spoke good English so we didn’t have to worry about that.  Afterwards we joked around some more and took the taxi back.  We talked with David about doing it again and I hope it works out.  They all seem like wonderful kids. 

            After we got out of the taxi we walked a little ways to the checkpoint.  The road we took runs along a giant concrete wall keeping people out.  As we walked we marveled at some of the art graffitied on the wall.  Some of it was crude as one could expect, but there were a lot of really well done pictures.  Almost all, no, all of the graffiti was political.  It is crazy to be there and hear the other side of the story.  In American I feel like all we hear is the pro-Israel side of the story.  In class we learned about the importance of land in this culture.  In the Bible we can see instances where this is shown.  Think of what God promised Abraham: descendants and land.  As important as an heir is to a father to keep the family going, the family land is just as important.  This still runs true today.  Families have been living on the same land for centuries and most likely much longer.  Many of these Palestinian families want to hold so strongly to their land that they are willing to fight to keep it from being taken from them.  There is a very interesting web of races, cultures, religions, and history.  And I am not sure if there is an answer to it.  I doesn’t seem right to keep people fenced in and the conditions they live in seem much worse than in Jerusalem.  I feel bad for the kids.  But since being here I have already learned a lot.  From people like our favorite shop keeper Shaban who gives us tea and pita whenever we visit him, or the people we have met playing soccer.  I hope to continue to learn about all sides of the story.  And I hope to let soccer continue to take us to places and meet people and hear stories we would not have heard otherwise.

Please pray for Egypt

Luke