I’m starting to get the sinking feeling that it is only a matter of time before cats overthrow the Israeli government and run the country (which might, actually, make everything a whole lot easier. I’m imagining the protests now). Yesterday, as I exited my apartment building, eight cats were just lined up, staring at me

Eight.

“Heyyyyy…?” I said gingerly.

One of them mewed angrily, and I scurried away as fast as possible.

Since I last wrote, I have been exploring this country as much as possible. I am trying to open myself up to people and organizations all across the political spectrum. I’ve been discussing issues with many different kinds of people over foamy cappuccinos and butter-rich pastries, and it has been eye opening. If it seems that my travels this summer are politically more “left-heavy”, it is because I have been exposed to the right wing perspective my whole life, and I am trying to expand on the views I already know.

I have been learning a tremendous amount at my post as a volunteer intern at Kav LaOved, a NGO in Tel Aviv. This mission of the organization is as follows:

Kav LaOved (Worker’s Hotline) is a nonprofit non governmental organization committed to protecting the rights of disadvantaged workers employed in Israel and by Israelis in the Territories, including Palestinians, migrant workers, subcontracted workers and new immigrants. Kav LaOved is committed to principles of democracy, equality and international law concerning human and social rights.

The Kav LaOved staff is an amazing potpourri of people from all ethnicities and walks of life. Though I have mainly been working on fundraising and resource development for the organization, I also am fortunate to observe regular office functions such as the open hours for face-to-face consultations. Each day, a different population (Palestinian workers, caregivers, migrant workers, Israeli workers) is invited to come in and bring their grievances. Devoted and skilled volunteers listen and help connect the workers to the appropriate resources. In some cases, they work on filing legal cases for the workers, though they try to avoid this as much as possible because of the stress and cost related to the legal process. The waiting area is packed with between 20-40 workers at a time, waiting for their turn.

While I am sitting at a desk typing out grant proposals or translating a document, I hear sound bytes of the consultations. One man was fired and his employer racked up his cell phone bill, and as of next week, we will no longer be legal in the country. A Filipino woman worked for a family for over 13 years. When the old woman she was caring for passed away, the family withheld some of her salary. Since she is no longer working, she must leave the country. A boy who could not have been more than 15 from Sudan came to bring his complaints yesterday afternoon.

Eventually, it was really bothering me that all the names of employers who were violating labor and human rights were Jewish names. I know it is not shocking that these employers are from a Jewish background, considering Israel’s status as a Jewish state. Nonetheless, I expressed my discomfort to one of the coordinators, a secular Jewish Israeli, and told her that it was incomprehensible to me that this was the case. Isn’t so much of our Torah about protecting the vulnerable in our society? As the coordinator chuckled at my mention of the word “Torah”, as if it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever said, I began to feel incredibly frustrated. If these occurrences are so widespread, why isn’t the whole religious community in Israel mobilizing to end them or seriously decrease their frequency?

Furthermore, why is it (generally, definitely with the exception of a few orgs, B’Maaglei Tzedek being one of them) the case that to work for an organization concerned with social justice and social issues in Israel you have to be placed in a very specific box with the borders of “non-religious “and “politically left”?

This politicization continues to shock me. These are core Jewish values that seek to respect human beings equally as made in the image of God.

Nothing more and nothing less.

The holiday of Shavuot interrupted last week, and it was a welcome interruption. I am always appreciative for these holy times, where it is an imperative to reconnect with your community and with your own spirituality. As per the tradition of the holiday, I stayed up all night learning Torah. I was in an open-minded Israeli synagogue, and I connected with a lot of interesting people with amazing perspectives on the country and on the world in general.  Unlike Diaspora Jews, Native Israelis do not celebrate the second day of the Holiday. Jews from the out of the country visiting Israel keep the second day of the holiday in accordance with their tradition.

During the second day, which was a normal workday for Israelis, I took a long walk, with the intent of exploring public space in Jerusalem. In the center of the city, where I live, most public spaces seem to be basically shared. What was nice about my walk was acknowledging the fact that many of the public spaces are not based around corporate activity, Ben Yehuda Street, the main shopping area in the center of town, is mostly comprised of independent shops. There are dozens of green spaces throughout the city, and I observed a young Palestinian family having a picnic together on the grass while the little members of a Haredi family splashed around in an adjacent fountain, still wearing thick their white tights and long-sleeved shirts.

Mamilla, however, an extravagant new outdoor mall located right outside of the walls of the old city, is lined with corporate staples, such as Mac and Topshop. The diversity in this space is incredible (it is almost as common to see a hijab as it is to see a kisui rosh walking down the plazas), but people come here to buy, not to build community. Though the pathway is lined with interesting art exhibits, the fact that is based around the act of spending money makes it a lot less valuable in my mind.

Last Friday, I went on a study tour of East Jerusalem with an organization called Ir Amim. Ir Amim takes groups on tours in Hebrew and English, and they work with a very clear political agenda. Their mission is defined as making Jerusalem an “equitable and sustainable city with an agreed political future”.  The tour was comprised of some English-speaking Israeli activists, tourists looking to get the full picture, and a large number of graduate students working on projects connected to the region.

With maps in our hands, we looked at Arab neighborhoods in East Jerusalem. We talked about discrepancies in education and housing. We talked about how it would be the benefit of all of Jerusalem if these areas were properly developed and cared for.

As we travelled through the city on the tour bus, I looked at the mountains, specifically at the edge where you can see the multiple geologic layers. This is what Jerusalem is to me. So many layers. So many stories. As the tour guide went on about this policy and that, this peace talk and that one, 1967 and 1948, the information kept swimming frantically in my head. Though the speaker’s presentation was excellent and fairly nuanced, it seemed that those that were attending the tour were quick to assume the worst of Israel. It almost seemed that the most exciting part of the tour for them was seeing a chunk of the security fence that was written on (mostly in English, I’ll add).

It was mind-blowing to venture into areas that were previously defined for me as “dangerous” or “disgusting”. It was important for me to take in the neighborhoods, the schools, the bus stops, the mothers carrying their children. I tacked these images on to my complex mental bulletin board regarding this issue. Though I have been in socio-economically deprived areas in the United States, I felt more of a responsibility and an emotional connection to these particular neighborhoods, strange as that may seem.

At the end of the tour, the speaker told us that there is a fine line between being critical of Israel and delegitimizing it completely. I went up to her after the tour, and she told me she often feels she needs to state this explicitly to the English speaking groups. In the Hebrew-speaking groups, most of the people are on the same page in that they are critical of Israel’s policies, but they don’t believe Israel should be wiped off the face of the map. That is not always the case with international groups.

As I stood with the group on an outlook overlooking the Arab villages we had just visited, I saw a group of gazelles dance gracefully and peacefully across the sun-parched hills. Jerusalem is so, so beautiful. Jerusalem is so, so contentious.