One year later. The wall still stands. The fear still prevails.

Exactly one year ago, I returned from an amazing, life-changing, perspective-broadening trip to the Holy Lands of Israel and Palestine. Together with members from Dumbarton United Methodist Church, this trip allowed me to trace the steps of the individuals most revered in shaping the Jewish and Muslim faiths, as well as my own Christian faith. Walking and praying in the churches and places commemorating where Jesus was born, where he performed miracles, and where he was crucified and buried provided me with a renewed spiritual and scriptural grounding of my faith. Equally formative were the discussions I was able to have with Palestinian Christians, who, despite the injustice and oppression they currently face in an Apartheid life under Israeli control, spoke not of their anger with God or those who oppressed them, but instead of their hope and faith in a loving God who will guide them in achieving peace in the region and also calls them to work towards justice between Israel and Palestine as well as within their own communities.

Many of the experiences I had, many of the confrontations I experienced and many of the sights I had seen I have been able to share with my family and my friends through anecdotal stories, through sharing pictures, and through simply joining conversations on the Israel-Palestine conflict within the past year.

In skimming through my journal recently, I came across one more story that I would now like to share. The following is my final journal entry from my time in Israel. This was written one year ago today as I sat alone at the gate of the Tel Aviv Airport reflecting on my last hours in Israel and in the Tel Aviv airport before boarding my plane to return to Germany:

"At first they didn’t ask where I had gone and I got a five – a pretty regular screening number at the airport (for a young female traveling alone. Out of a six-point numbering system, with six being the highest possible security level, I could possibly pose a threat.) Then, they found my Palestinian flag bracelet that I had purchased, and I was questioned by the shift supervisor – where had I been? How long had I stayed? Do I know anyone here in Israel? Where did I buy the bracelet? And Why?

I lied. I told them that I had purchased the bracelet in Bethlehem even though I had bought it in Hebron. (Hebron is a Palestinian city strongly divided and is seldom a tourist destination; if I had told them that the bracelet was purchased in Hebron, the security screening would have been even more intense than it already was.) When the supervisor asked why I had purchased this, the only response that I could think of was “I don’t know.” What was I supposed to say? That I support Palestinian independence? That I wanted to stand in solidarity with Palestinian Christians? That I recognize the 1948 agreements on the green zone? And the independence of Palestine?

Then I was a security level six with special gunpowder tests and a thorough and complete search of everything that I had with me, as well as a body scan. Once they stopped asking me all these questions, I was less angry. It was actually somewhat entertaining to watch them ponder what Elephant and Junior could be filled with and test their trunks before sending them through the scanner on a special ride.

When I was taken to my body scan and pat-down, the girl (she couldn’t have been any older than me) who took me was much nicer. And clearly the questions she asked me were to make conversation rather than to pose me as a threat to Israel. The woman being searched next to me talked on her phone about how she was being humiliated.

I did not feel humiliated. I felt their fear. But the more the female security guard talked to me, I could tell that she did not see me as a threat. I was cooperative and didn’t ask questions. I talked to her as I would anyone else – even when they made me pull my pants down to my knees because my jeans button kept beeping.

I did not feel humiliated. But I felt their fear and was glad to be screened for the Palestinians who go through such scrutiny and for the many Muslims and dark-skinned women and men who were also waiting for extra security screening, likely simply because of their religion, the color of their skin, or their nationality.

The security officers phrased this scrutiny, full search and private pat-down as a courtesy: “Now that we have already completed your body scan and baggage search, you don’t have to wait in line for check-in or security.” Wonderful. The security officer left me with my boarding pass and carry-on baggage and let me walk through passport control myself (Generally, with a security level 6, you are escorted to the passport control booth until you are stamped out of Israel).

Now I see the extent to which Israelis live in a constant state of fear – a state of fear that I would argue is unjustified nonetheless.

How can I turn my frustration and understanding of Israelis fear of Arabs and their fear of being oppressed into effective action to work towards justice and peace? How can I help Israelis and others in the United States become better educated about the reality of the system (in place in Israel and Palestine) and work to decrease the fear that these individuals and groups face everyday whether because of history, faith, race, or politics?

What can I do to fulfill my call to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God and with my fellow sisters and brothers in faith and love?”

One year after returning from this trip of renewing my connection with my global brothers and sisters in Christ, I continue to believe that God is at work peacefully molding Palestinians towards hope and faith amidst conflict and pain as well as moving Israelis from fear to faith and trust in God. This experience and these lingering questions renewed and continue to renew my call as a Christian, in the words of one tour guide, “to act and respond in the footsteps of Jesus – in the footsteps of justice.”

“Well, do they want to be integrated?”

Integration. In Germany, these four syllables comprise a loaded term regarding immigration, citizenship, language, ‘foreigners’ and ‘Muslims’ – ‘Them’ over ‘there.’

I was introducing myself to someone recently and they asked about my experiences in Germany. I began explaining my previous research on Islamic Religious Instruction in German public schools and my additional research on the role of religious organizations in the integration process of immigrant children and youth. I then shared that I was now working with an after-school program for underprivileged and immigrant children and youth.

And then came the dreaded question. “Well, do they want to be integrated?”

Perhaps it wasn’t even the question itself, but the tone and emphasis with which the question was asked. Perhaps, I over-think and over-analyze the language that people use in asking such questions. Perhaps I was caught off guard because the conversation was being held in English at a doctor’s office with someone who is herself a ‘foreigner’ here in Germany. Perhaps it was instead because I had simply not slept enough the night before.

Regardless, as the dreaded question was posed, I felt a wall of emotions welling up inside of me: defense, frustration, and even anger.

I wanted to lash out: “Do you want to be integrated? Have you become fully German? Or is it different for you because you are white and hold a passport from a ‘developed’ country?”

The problem with the question itself was mainly two-fold:
From a grammatical perspective, it was the ‘to be integrated’ part that tripped me up. Such framing of the question implies not only passivity (‘to be educated,’ ‘to be taught,’ ‘to be fed,’ etc.) but also one-sidedness…that ‘they’ need to be made like ‘us’ and that ‘we’ need to impose this process upon ‘them’ in a top-down approach. Such an approach speaks to assimilation and acculturation, but certainly NOT to integration!

From a sociological perspective, it was the ‘they,’ the othering, which made me shudder. Who was she, and who am I to define ‘them’ – to define the ‘other’ – ‘those people’ who need ‘to be integrated’?

Clearly, I kept my mouth shut. I repressed my instinctive response and rather than answering her question, I did not answer the question. Instead I simply explained the work that I am doing at the Kindertreff, the programs that we offer and the fact that we work to build a better reality, a better neighborhood, and a sense of hope with ALL children who wish to come.

If I hadn’t been caught so off guard and had been in a different setting, I might have launched into a discussion on the true definition and meaning of integration; that in the scholarly field of immigration and migration, integration is widely understood as a two-sided process, in which not only the migrant, but also the state and population of the migrant’s “country of residence”, must work to understand the culture, tradition, language and, even religion, of the ‘others.’ According to Christian Pfeiffer, author of the Pfeiffer Studie, integration can be explained as a four step process: 1) Cultural/cognitive integration (speaking German), 2) structural integration (School completion diploma), 3) Social integration (being friends with Germans), and 4) Integrative Integration (an identity as a German). As a two-sided process, such a model of integration requires the migrant to actively work towards such integration, while the state and its native residents must supply the systematic institutions and support of the migrant’s cultural, linguistic, religious, and traditional integration.

Regrettably, I hadn’t gone to the doctor’s office prepared for such a conversation.

Still, even days later, I don’t have a good, anger-free response to this one simple question: “Well, do they want to be integrated?". But perhaps such questions simply can’t be answered. Instead, perhaps it is more helpful to answer the question’s underlying biases and framework. This question begets the questions:
How is the language we use defined by the society in which we live and grow-up and the situations that we encounter?

How can we continue to use this language even when it is loaded with historical and contextual baggage and current derogation, with which we might not actually associate the words that we wish to use?

And how can we stop ourselves from classifying and outing ‘the other’, ‘the foreigner’ or ‘those other people’ and instead join them, stand in solidarity with them, and become one with them?

The Giving of Thanks, a Month Too Early

On this past Sunday, we celebrated Erntedankfest in our worship service at church. Erntedankfest is the German equivalent of American Thanksgiving (literally translated as the Festival of Thanks for the Harvest) and, to the best of my knowledge, is always celebrated on the first Sunday of October. In contrast to our American Thanksgiving, Erntedankfest is neither a national holiday nor an overtly family holiday; instead, Erntedankfest is a religious holiday, which is by-and-large only celebrated, or known, to Christians in Germany. At my congregation, we collected perishable food items for another after-school project in the city.

Much less pompous than our American tradition of giving thanks by preparing and consuming a feast with our families before passing out on the couch to watch football, this means of giving thanks is much less pompous, much more reflective, and much less for ourselves. I like that Erntedankfest begins standing before the altar rather than sitting at the table: rather than thanking God for what we have by feeding ourselves, we are feeding others; rather than only celebrating with our family and relatives, we are celebrating with our broader Christian family; rather than sitting in comfort at our own table in our own homes, we are standing, ready to act, before a common table in a house of worship…and in my opinion, if the giving of thanks should begin anywhere, it should begin in a house of worship.

In reflecting on this different (and likely more Christian) means of giving thanks for the harvest, I would like to share with you a reflection of many of the things, for which I am thankful, particularly reflecting on this past week and on my first month as a Mission Intern here in Berlin. In the words of Barbara Kingsolver, I am thankful that “God is in the details, the completely unnecessary miracles sometimes tossed up as stars to guide us.”

I am thankful for:

• Having enough food to eat and having the privilege to choose what I want to eat.
• Hearing a first grade student from Romania speak her first complete German sentence this week during our fall holiday language program („Das Bonbon ist da!“);
• And later seeing this same girl laugh and smile for the first time (after knowing her for one month).
• The arrival of beautiful fall weather.
• Receiving a package from my parents and savoring the first peanut butter cups and pieces of candy corn.
• Admiring the children's creations following an afternoon of boondoogling and crocheting!
• Living in a country that values reducing our environmental impact...particularly when that means spotting a postman on a scooter rather than on his standard bicycle (it was a full-grown man in postal uniform on an authentic scooter, like the ones 10-year-olds ride!).
• Introducing a friend from Russia to Döner Kebap (a Turkish-Berlin specialty) and ayran (a Turkish salty yogurt drink) for the first time.
• Having a place to live:

• Going for a run and getting soaked in a downpour the last five minutes.
• Having health insurance and access to medical care and chiropractic care in Germany (still a new medical concept here, I learned).
• Sunflower-seed German bread, fresh from the bakery.
• Having the internet in our office repaired!
• Baking pizza together with my friend Brandon and having a reunion with our Fulbright comrade Sam via skype.

• Reminiscing on my childhood while skimming through a new box of wonderful English children books!
• My wonderful co-workers, both here at the Kindertreff and the General Board of Global Ministries missionaries and young adult missionaries serving around the world.
• The crunch of leaves when I ride my bike.
• The religious freedom to take a group of teenage boys, both Muslims and Christians, on a field trip to the Şehitlik Mosque in celebration of the ‘Day of German Unity’ on October 3.
• Skyping with my whole family over the course of the week (albeit at separate times!).
• Utilizing all of my language skills in the course of one day: from teaching immigrant children German to continuing to learn Arabic, and even conversing with a Bulgarian mother on the phone in Turkish...it doesn’t get much better than that!
• Seeing joy, love, and adoration in children’s faces on a daily basis.

May these little miracles, these stars guide us in our giving of thanks, even if we are a month too early.

Just A Regular Ol’ Week in Berlin: Meeting the Bishop, a Visit from India, a Conference on Healthcare, and Dancing the Night Away at an Arab Wedding

This past week has been anything but quiet and ‘regular!’

On Monday we were honored to host the German United Methodist Bishop, Rosemarie Wenner, at the Kindertreff. She stopped by the church for a few hours in the afternoon so that we could meet one another and to take pictures and shoot a video of me, my supervisor, and the kids. The photos and the film will be used as part of the General Board of Global Ministries’ upcoming Ten-Fold Campaign, an interactive global gathering that features United Methodist projects around the world supported by Global Ministries and the United Methodist Committee On Relief. Ten-Fold will last 10 days, with each day having a specific focus. On October 14th, the focus will be on Youth and Young Adults, and the Kindertreff, as well as other youth and young adult programs, will be highlighted. Visit http://www.10-fold.org/index.html for the day’s overview, and mark on your calendars: at 12:30pm EST on October 14th, the Kindertreff will be highlighted through a LIVE webcast direct from Berlin! It would be great to know that you will be there along with me!

The visits, picture taking, and excitement at the Kindertreff continued on Wednesday, when we received visitors from India! Four individuals who are part of the Gossener Mission ministry in India came to visit us as part of a three week stay in Germany where they have been learning about religious life here and simply exploring the city. After a brief presentation, we gave them a tour of the building and the playground and let them observe some of the homework help going on in the afternoon. The highlight of their time here was, however, participating in the music group. Not only were the children thrilled to perform a canon that they have been learning, but we also played a rhythmic cup game together and learned a traditional folk dance and song from India. Our visitors seemed to love it, and I think that the kids will be talking about it for weeks to come!

Thursday and Friday this week I had the opportunity to attend a conference on Undocumented Persons and Healthcare in Europe. Although the conference will not be directly applicable to the work that I am doing with the children and youth here, it was helpful to receive a foundational understanding of the rights of individuals with different residency and visa qualifications here in Europe. It is particularly complicated within the European Union countries since citizens from Bulgaria and Romania, for example, have a right to live and work here in Germany, but are not eligible for German healthcare and often do not have healthcare in their home countries. Additionally, undocumented persons often lack access and information about healthcare and moreover are afraid to seek out the treatment they need as receiving such help may reveal that they are in the country without documents, which often leads to deportation. Although we at the Kindertreff never ask the kids about their residence and visa status here in Germany, the information was great for me to have and may be helpful if at some point any of the families need to access free and safe healthcare here in Berlin. Moreover, it was great to see that the American campaign to drop the ‘I’-word is not only isolated to the United States! No person is illegal!

The highlight of the week was, by far, the wedding that my supervisor and I attended on Thursday evening. The older brother of one of the girls who comes to the Kindertreff was getting married and my supervisor, myself and a few other coworkers were invited to attend! Neither my supervisor nor I had previously attended an Arab wedding, so we were both excited to be invited! The wedding ‘officially’ began at 6pm and we arrived at 8pm when the dancing and festivities were beginning. The dancing reminded me of the dancing group that I had seen in Bethlehem last fall, and the wedding as a whole reminded me a lot of the weddings that I had attended in Turkey. My supervisor and I knew about three or four families at the wedding since their children come to the Kindertreff and they explained some of what was going on to us, since everything was announced in Arabic (and despite my three-weeks of Arabic lessons, I wasn’t able to understand most of what was going on!). After about two hours of organized dancing, dinner was served, after which all of the men lined up to give their gifts and their family’s gifts of money to the married couple. After some more dancing, a five-tiered cake was brought out to the center of the dance floor and the married couple was given a sword with Arabic inscription to hold together and cut each layer of the cake! It was impressive! Afterwards, the bride and groom transferred one another’s wedding rings from the right-hand to the left-hand, and then the dancing continued! We left at 11:30pm in order to catch the train home, even though the dancing was still going strong! It was a great new cultural experience for me and I look forward to possibly attending a few more weddings during my stay here!