• IN THIS SECTION

Health Care - March 2010 Vote

Do you think Congress will pass the current form of the Health Care bill this week?

Yes
No
Not sure

View results

Senior Intelligence Officials: Attempted Terror Attack "Certain"

The five senior leaders of the U.S. intelligence community told a Senate panel they are "certain" that terrorists will attempt another attack on the United States in the next three to six months.

If true, why do you think the jihadists feel emboldened?

The Obama administration is seen as weak against terrorism.
Its continued backlash against the policies of the former Bush administration.
Not sure.

View results

June 11, 2008

Exclusive: A Slice of Life in Israel Today – Best Friends and Bedouins

Ron Marlar

As I continue my sojourn in Israel, a Palestinian Arab Muslim man named Samer recently approached me on the steps of our Beersheba hostel. Samer began our conversation by saying he had overheard my talking about Joppa (Jaffa, Jafo in various spellings) with another companion. Samer said he lived in Joppa and worked at the post office there.

Coincidentally, I had mailed postcards from the Old Joppa Post Office on Jerusalem Boulevard just the day before. That was a first-hand learning experience in itself. The U.S. Postal Service, as well as others around the world, could learn some lessons from the Old Joppa Post Office.

Like almost all public places in Israel (and some in Palestinian-controlled areas), an armed guard checked all patrons at the door. Then to my surprise a uniformed young lady gave me a numbered ticket from a dispensing machine. She gestured for me to sit in one of the many chairs in four rows facing the postal clerk windows.

I did, and along with other patrons and their children - Arabs, Jews and others by the languages being spoken - I watched ticket numbers appear on the many screens above the service windows. I noticed one window was set aside specifically for people sending or receiving larger packages. They stepped up and did their business one at a time.

When my number appeared on the screen I went to the only clerk not serving other patrons. After greetings in Arabic, English and Hebrew we settled on English to do our business. It was handled with efficiency, pleasantness and at a lower cost than mailing post cards in the U.S.

How civilized and orderly; much more so than standing in line and being delayed by big package mailers.

I shared my impressions of this experience with Samer as we walked upstairs to our respective rooms. We had to walk because this was Shabat - the Jewish sabbath. Elevators are either shut down or run automatically on Shabat in much of Israel, since work is forbidden on Shabat and pushing elevator buttons is considered work.

By the time we reached the first floor (what Americans would consider the second floor), Samer and I had agreed to tour Beersheba together in my rental car. Samer was in Beersheba with two friends but the friends were sleeping in, so Samer and I struck out without them to seek truth in Beersheba. Unfortunately, we had to give up quickly, as the city was basically shut down for Shabat. Instead, we drove out to a Bedouin camp in the desert on the outskirts of Beersheba.

Bedouins are desert-dwelling (formerly nomadic) Arabs found throughout much of the Middle East.

There we found life. Upon arriving at the camp we met a group of boys and girls walking, apparently under the supervision of a girl a few years older than the rest. To open conversation, Samer asked if there was a restaurant in the camp.

One of the younger girls spoke telling Samer in no uncertain terms to talk with that man "over there." That man was apparently the group's leader. The children disappeared somewhere, and those girls were conspicuously the only Bedouin females we saw during our visit.

For several hours we sat cross-legged under a big tent on mats covered by colorful wool blankets and rugs, drinking strong coffee in demitasse-like glass cups and delicious sweet tea with the water heated over an open fire. We smoked, sharing an argilla (a hookah).

We talked with the Bedouins about life in the U.S., Joppa, Israel, and in the Bedouin camp and their market in Beersheba. These Bedouins are happy and prosperous running the Beersheba market. They are much like other people I have come in contact with around the world: they want peace, a comfortable living for themselves and their families in their own cultures, enough material goods to meet their needs, and the ability to help others if possible.

Eventually we talked about religion - Christianity, Islam and Judaism - and politics.

Some revelations and details:

• These Bedouins do not roam the desert. They are large family, their crafts market in Beersheba is a big tourist attraction. Consequently they are fairly well to do.
• While in the relative privacy of their camp and tent homes and some cinder block, permanent, common buildings, they wear Western shoes and clothes.
• They raise camels and horses, and they own and drive trucks, cars and the school bus for the children.
• They have electricity but use it only after dark.
• They do have a computer with a website and e-mail in the Beersheba market. We exchanged email addresses, promising to stay in touch.
• They want to visit the U.S. but have no wish to live anywhere but on their rather sizeable piece of the Negev Desert.
• Many of them are educated at least through high school, and some through college. Many speak passable English, and at least understand spoken English and read English - better than I do Arabic or Hebrew.
• They are serious but friendly and erudite. They smile a lot, laugh at jokes when they understand them, and share humor from their culture.
• They like to talk. When I tried to leave they served the tea following the coffee in an effort to keep me from leaving. Then they served tortilla-like bread baked over the open fire and olive oil home made on a press in their camp from nearby trees. They are proud of their olive oil and rightfully so. The bread dipped in the oil was delicious.
• They told me that all Bedouin are Muslims, contrasting what Ibn Warraq says in his book Why I Am Not a Muslim (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 1995) about Bedouins and Islam in the early days: "Bedouin Arabs were even less inclined to accept the new creed," and "most Bedouins were not at all attracted by Islam (p. 200)." (Editor's note: While most Bedouins are Muslim, it is more of a cultural/racial/tribal designation than a religious one. Bedouins are often discriminated against by other Arabs due to their nomadic way of life, and some of the Bedouins in Israel have proven to be very loyal Israelis.)
• Only one said he prays five times a day, but when I asked them to pray with me several looked at their watches. The apparent leader said, "It is not time now to pray."I joked, "Well, we infidel Christians pray any time we choose, some without ceasing." They smiled when Samer translated into Arabic for me.
• Before as we ate the bread together they listened intently as I explained to them the
  essence of Christian beliefs, including the Holy Trinity as three in one, showing them with the first, second and third fingers of my right hand how three, then intertwining those fingers were one, inseparable, thus one God.
  
  

As the visit drew to a close, I promised to stay in touch at least by e-mail. The men agreed to do the same. Samer and I left after thanking the men for their hospitality, shaking hands and hugging in Arabic fashion. They refused to take any money, even when I offered it for the children.

Samer and I returned to the hostel to pick up his friends for late lunch or early dinner. After stopping at a bank ATM for one of them we went to find swarma, a pita pocket sandwich typically filled with raw veggies, humus and meat (beef, chicken, fish, goat or lamb).

Thwarted again by Shabat, we chose McDonald's over Burger King.

At McDonald's, our four-way discussion became so lively at times I found myself looking around to see if the police were coming to remove us from the somewhat crowded fast food restaurant.

The discussion was lively because Samer, Marwan, Piny - all in their early 20s, born and raised in Israel/Palestine - and I are respectively a Palestinian Arab Muslim, son of a Palestinian Arab Muslim father and Jewish mother, Jew and Christian.

My experiences lead me to believe we can have our differences, discuss them with fervor, reach some agreement, and live, work and play together in peace, love, mutual respect and harmony. The problems seem to be caused by governments, politicians and religious zealots - not the common, decent, working people.

Ron Marlar is a retired Air Force officer, college professor and seminary graduate who travels frequently to the Middle East to meet with and research both Muslims and non-Muslims living there. Feedback: editorialdirector@familysecuritymatters.org.

Reader Comments: Submit Your Comment (0)

Print This E-mail This

Share It: