We left the hotel early to drive to Bet Jala, a suburb of Bethlehem, where we were to pick olives today. We arrived and met the farmer at a checkpoint that separates his land from the historic municipality of Bet Jala. The Israeli Defense Force placed the fence in between the farmer’s house and olive groves, and basically included him and his family in the jurisdiction of Greater Jerusalem. This means that only he and his family can help with the harvest of over 300 trees. Their neighbors up the hill left Palestine to move to Chile, where they could more easily make a living. When they are gone for three years, the Israeli government will claim the land and add it to the Gilo Settlement on the top of the hill – the reason presented as to why the family is separated from their neighbors in Bet Jala. Because his house is now on the other side of the wall, they will not allow him to drive his car through the accepted district of Jerusalem in Israel to his home. His only means of transportation is now a motor scooter, or the option to walk half a mile to the fence and then call a taxi from Bet Jala.
When the soldiers wouldn’t let us in, the farmer appealed to their superior, and we waited around in the sun for two hours. While we waited the British and Australians played cricket with some makeshift sticks and a hackysac. Zelda and Allan organized a litter pick-up in the adjoining olive tree field. The mother came out with tea, and we got to know the family better.
Eventually, they let us in after checking all of our passports, and drove back to check on us at regular intervals. Sometimes they waved, and once they gave us the “thumbs up.” It was a full day of hard labor. Will says, “My dad always told me that if I went to school I wouldn’t become a ditch digger.” So why do I keep finding labor-intensive service projects like building labyrinths and picking olives?
The family was very hospitable. They joined us in the picking and provided a great lunch under the shade of the olive trees were picking. We guess that we picked about 10-12 trees or 200 to 250 lbs of olives. Needless to say, we are all pretty sore and achy right now. 12 trees out of 300 isn’t a huge contribution, but we could tell that our presence and solidarity with the family meant a lot to them and their neighbors. The mother does handmade Palestinian embroidery of scarves, shirts, dresses, and purses. She invited everyone to come in and see what they would like. She is quite talented, and it looked like her quality was greater than that at the shops in Jerusalem. We took a brief tour of the area, driving to the Cremisan Franciscan Winery, which has been moved from the city of Bet Jala to the Greater Jerusalem district. The proximity of the massive settlements, built on their Palestinian neighbors land, continues to push those who remain to the margins of survival and separates them from their historic neighbors.
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