By Jacob Greene, Special to the Jewish Sound
For several months this year, I lived in Israel. The majority of my time I spent studying with Alexander Muss High School in Israel, along with 29 American and Canadian teenagers, with support from an Israel scholarship from the Jewish Federation of Greater Seattle. While we spent Sunday through Friday morning in school, Saturday was generally our day off or “Open Shabbat,” and an opportunity to go off campus to visit friends and relatives around the country.
Luckily for me, I had many friends in Israel, all of whom I met through Ultimate Peace (UP), an organization that brings together Israeli Jewish, Arab Israeli, and Palestinian youth through the sport of Ultimate Frisbee. At the end of my study abroad program, I would be staying on in Israel to participate in UP as a coach in training for a second summer. Needless to say, I was excited to see my friends and visit them in their cities and villages.
It is not uncommon for teenagers to travel around Israel on their own or in groups, as the country is so small. With detailed directions from my friends, I took local transportation and visited Noa in Binyamina, Yabi in Raanana, and Hassan in Kabul. Each visit was unique and a chance to experience a different way of life.
As my time at Alexander Muss came to a close, I was disappointed that I hadn’t been able to visit my friend Mohammed “Hosa” Romman, a Muslim boy I had grown close to through Ultimate Peace. However, I finally got that chance after UP camp ended and it’s a visit I’ll never forget.
Hosa lives in the small Arab village of Ein Rafa, directly outside of Jerusalem, and I arranged to meet him with three other American friends from Ultimate Peace, Hallie, Keanan and Sarina. When we arrived at the station nearest Jerusalem, Hosa greeted us with lots of hugs, asking if we were hungry and thirsty, and what we wanted to see.
This particular day was the beginning of the Islamic month of Ramadan, the most important Islamic holiday, during which adults fast every day. As we sat down to lunch outside the Machane Yehuda market, Hosa ordered in Hebrew for us beautiful bowls of sabich — eggplant and hardboiled egg atop hummus. There were four of us, but only three meals. Hosa smiled and explained that he was fasting and not to worry, he would be fine with us eating in front of him. We felt a little guilty, but nonetheless ate our lunches, listening as he explained the customs of Ramadan.
After lunch, we walked to the old city of Jerusalem to visit the historical sites. Despite living only a few miles from Jerusalem, Hosa had never been to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, one of the most holy places for Christian people. We stood in the courtyard outside, looking around at the people who had come from far away to be at a place in Hosa’s backyard. Before going inside, Hosa threw a longer sleeved shirt over his tank, out of respect. As we toured the church, it didn’t matter that we understood little of the things we were seeing; we just knew and respected the holiness of the place.
Next, we went to see the Western Wall, another site Hosa had never visited despite living so close. On our way we walked through the Arab quarter, which was abuzz in preparation for the upcoming festivities that night. Similar to breaking the fast on Yom Kippur, meals during Ramadan resemble feasts and are an occasion to celebrate. Walking down the narrow alleys, past shops selling spices and fabrics, men hung lights above us as the evening set in. We could feel the change in atmosphere as we moved from the hubbub of the Arab Quarter into the relative calm of the Jewish Quarter. Soon, we arrived at the wall, also known as the Kotel. Hosa, Keanan and I put on kippot and Hallie and Sarina covered themselves with scarves. Leaning against the wall and praying, I turned back to check on the others. Surveying all the people around him, Hosa had the biggest grin on his face, a smile so contagious you couldn’t help but smile back. As we walked away, Hosa told us he wished he could take us up to the Temple Mount right above so we could experience the three holy places of the three Abrahamic religions; however, we hadn’t dressed appropriately and Hallie and Sarina would have had to wait behind. Deciding it would be best to stay together, we headed out of the Old City. Looking back, we saw the Temple Mount resting just above the Kotel, where we had just stood.
After an incredible day in Jerusalem, we boarded the bus to Hosa’s house in Ein Rafa for Ramadan dinner. Throughout his village lights were strung, illuminating the darkness. The feeling was magical. Stepping into Hosa’s apartment, his parents welcomed us. His mother had laid out a delicious meal of rice, chicken, vegetables, and an assortment of salads.
We sat down to eat with Hosa’s family, including his younger brother and two younger sisters. Though their English was spotty and we spoke no Arabic, we did our best to communicate using English words, plenty of hand gestures, and smiles.
The food tasted amazing and whenever any of us would finish our plate, Hosa’s mother was ready with another helping. It felt like home.
After dinner, Hosa showed us around the house. In his room, there is a big mural, which he drew himself. Amazed, we asked to see more of his work, unaware our friend was such a talented artist. Reaching under his bed, he pulled out binders of artwork, and as we look through them, a theme becomes apparent: Peace. Every drawing, every painting, every sketch was of a dove, of Palestinians and Jews together. This is Hosa’s dream.
As Keanan, Hallie, Sarina and I squeezed into a cab, Hosa’s parents asked the driver, a family friend, to take us back to Tel Aviv. Turning back, we saw the fading image of the entire family waving goodbye.
My visit to Ein Rafa was on June 29. The next night, the bodies of three Jewish boys who had gone missing two weeks earlier from a West Bank settlement were discovered. This tragedy would spark a war between Hamas in Gaza and Israel just days after I had left the country. It’s hard to believe I was with Hosa just a few weeks ago, that we toured the Old City of Jerusalem together and took in the sites. Back home in Seattle, I think of my friends every day and hope for peace.
A version of this article originally ran on the Ultimate Peace blog.