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I breathe in Bethlehem. Stacked staggered hills etched into a hillside; dry, but not dry enough to choke out the roots of the olive trees whose rich fruit and oil blankets the food I eat every day. While there are over 100,000 people in the area, I feel like I'm in a small town with the familiarity and warmth of the locals. I don't know why I'm here yet--the excitement of danger, the chance to do something good, moreover the opportunity to open my eyes bigger than I've ever been able to manage and breathe in all that the lungs of my brain and heart can handle.

It is always hard to know, when there are two sides, which is the truth and which is not—especially if you are taught only one side for most of your life. This has been my situation regarding many aspects of daily world activities, especially the situation in Israel and Palestine. I never thought to question what I had been taught because the people teaching it to me have been my loved ones, my advisors, and my friends.

First impressions? I LOVE Bethlehem! I can't even explain it. I love this quaint little town and the beautiful overviews of the surrounding villages. I love the dingy alleys leading to my host family's house, located in a refugee camp called Al-Azzeh. I'm legit living in a refugee camp. Awesome. But don't start thinking about tents and bucket showers yet. Because the Palestinians have been refugees for so long, they've built houses where there used to be tents. I'm living in a three-story apartment with a husband, wife, and 2 month old daughter.

The second week of this summer’s Palestine Summer Encounter program has wrapped up, and we are on to the third. In the past week, participants have had exciting opportunities to encounter Palestinian nonviolent resistance, follow international headlines from right where they are happening, and continue expanding their understanding of Palestinian culture.

Yes, everything they said on the website is true: my host family is wonderful, my volunteer work is interesting and meaningful, and a rigorous schedule of lectures, classes, and trips has ensured that I have more than enough information to mull over.

However, it took two weeks to solve a growing problem. It began as a slight glitch in my wellbeing and grew to an aching chasm of discontent. I didn’t know what to name as its cause (ennui? home-sickness?) until I discovered the cure.

It’s summertime in Bethlehem, and the Holy Land Trust office is abuzz with activity. A considerable part of that activity is due to the recent arrival of 17 internationals, participants in the 7th Palestine Summer Encounter. This session includes participants from the U.S., Canada, Germany, the U.K., Switzerland, and Australia.

I seriously never expected to have a falafel sandwich so many different ways. Before we left for Palestine, many of our friends decried our vegetarianism, lamenting the delicious shwarma and kubbeh we would be missing out on. I wish I could satisfy the omnivorous audience and say eating falafel sandwiches and hummus on a daily basis is boring or unsatisfying, but I can't, as each day in Palestine is a new day to find a new vegetarian place that makes the regular dishes a little differently than the others.

Well, the past few days have certainly been interesting. Palestine is
nothing like I expected. It is a world full of dichotomy. Here I am in
a land that I've only read about and hadn't been able to imagine and
yet the weather feels like Florida and George Lucas definitely stole
sets for Star Wars from the Palestinian landscape. Despite these
familiarities it is quite apparent that I am not in New Jersey.

I arrived in the airport and passed through Israeli security, no

When I sat down to write a summary of the PSE program I realized what
a daunting task it was. How could I possibly write about all the
things we have taken from this experience? It was all immensely
different for each of us. We all came from different places in our
lives, different countries, and for different reasons. I suppose the
best I can do is speak of my experiences and hope that my writing does
some justice to our common experiences.
When I first came to the West Bank I was impatient. I wanted to save
the world. I’ve learned patience here. I’ve learned about despair and

Three weeks in and I realized that a month-long journey to Palestine is inadequate. After spending time in the cities and talking to people on all sides of the Israeli-Palestinian issue, I see that three weeks is barely enough time to scratch the surface of things here. And with every sideways glance as I walk alone down the street, with every awkward attempt at communication, with every wrong turn I make, with every cultural faux pas and political misstep, I find myself asking What was I thinking?