How far ahead is it really possible to see?

Jerusalem, 12 December 2010

Today's main activity was a trip to Rammallah to worship with a local Anglican parish. While not as moving as last week's adventure it was still a privilege to stand with people for whom staying here has meant much sacrifice and hardship, for who worship happens in the middle of the working week, for whom getting out of their town means long queues and unpredictable permit granting – even to travel the 40 minutes to Jerusalem where they have a job. Yet once again we merely cruised in on the bus. Rammallah seems much more prosperous than Bethlehem – there is development happening everywhere – new buildings and cronstruction seems to be happening everywhere you look. Today all that building was contributing to the dust that is blowing relentless all around – for there has been no rain this winter and now like last summer in the dust storms in Sydney everyone is just longing for the rain to come.

There is something about just standing in a church listening to people sing. I hate singing hymns – and even songs - at home for they seem trite and not always truthful and lame, but listening to the congregation behind me sing today was something else – and gave me the sense that they find it a community building rather than isolating experience. The hymns are a meld of western tunes imported with the British rule I image with Arabic variations – it's quite lovely. When your world is at risk and vulnerable perhaps singing becomes a form of protest –you can't stop the songs we sing together and you can't stop them giving us hope – somehow a choral version of the endless paintings and quotes on the Palestinian side of the wall. All of which made up for a rather sexist and fundamentalist sermon that left me wishing he'd just preached in Arabic so I could listen to the sound rather than the meaning!

This afternoon Allison and I had an unexpectedly contemporary art cultural expedition to the Museum of the Seam. It exists in the house that was used as a military checkpoint on the Green Line – the dividing line from before 1967 between East and West Jerusalem. Presently it is home to an exhibition about Protesting with works from artists from here as well as internationally. In usual contemporary art confronting style there were videos of rock throwing in the streets here morphing into dropping stones into Monet's water lilies, a dreamlike story of a young woman's return to her home in Akko to play out the role of princess carrying her castle like the burdens of the other women she encounters down through the town to the sea, a "non political" story of Siamese twin brothers – brothers in arms with images of the destruction of houses in Sheik Jezzah neighbor (the suburb next to the College), a flashing neon sign with slogans, provocations and wisdoms scrolling across the screen. Frustratingly no photos allowed and no postcards of the parts I most enjoyed.

PS Almost forgot – the Museum of the Seam also had the 2^nd best coffee we've had since we got here – once we found the café waiter who was up on the roof rewelding a sculpture that was in danger of being blown off the roof – such has been the force of the winds here for the last two days.

All in all a great day for thinking about resistance and protest and the need to somehow continue it. I'm off now to listen to Donna who is doing work like Aimee who we visited last week in Bethlehem.