May you experience this vast, expansive, infinite, indestructible love that has been yours all along.
May you discover that this love is as wide as the sky and as small as the cracks in your heart no one else knows about.
And may you know, deep in your bones, that love wins.

- Rob Bell

Because my dad told me to...

Last month I took a trip to Palestine, or more accurately, the Occupied Palestinian Territories. I have much to write about the experience, but due to the very real danger that I will never get around to it, for now I am posting, at my father's suggestion, a few words I wrote for the organisation's donors:

It has been about a month since returning from ICAHD's summer rebuilding camp, and in that time countless people have posed the same question: 'How was Palestine?'

And the first word that comes to my mind (as if you could describe the experience in a word) is hard. The physical work in the heat and sun was hard, of course, but so much more so was witnessing injustice at a magnitude I had never yet encountered. As the camp came to a close, I couldn't escape the feelings of anger and despair that weighed me down.

Yet, in those two weeks, I also encountered so much courage, perseverance, and sheer goodness that I couldn't help but leave that place inspired.

I was inspired by my fellow international volunteers, who came from all around the world to join in this common goal. Being united in communal work and life with them was refreshing, and hearing of their steadfast efforts in their respective homelands was motivating.

I was inspired by our Israeli leaders, who have the insight and vision to see beyond the system in which they are living. I can't imagine what it is like to work not only against the policies and practices of your own government but also against the values and prejudices of your own community, yet the Israeli activists we got to know engage in this effort tirelessly, some at the cost of relationships to friends and family.

And, most of all, I was inspired by the many Palestinians we met and worked with, who, simply by remaining in their homes and continuing their daily lives in peace, are exemplifying resistance. Despite being denied both rights and basic needs by a regime bent on getting them to quit and leave, they refuse to give in.

Beyond this, I was touched by the generosity and hospitality which
our various Palestinian hosts bestowed upon us, be it welcoming us into their homes, sharing delicious meals with us, or inviting us, strangers who neither spoke the language nor really knew the culture, to take part in a family's wedding festivities.

One moment I found particularly touching was when one of our hosts returned from the hospital with her newborn daughter. Even amidst the occupation, the joy of new life continues, and we were fortunate enough to welcome it.

When we weren't busy meeting and being inspired by people, we were of course building a house.

And it was this aspect that drew me into the camp from the moment I heard about it. I currently work in the office of a human rights organisation, and when sitting at a desk day after day, busying myself with translations and grant reports, it is difficult to feel like, much less see that, I am making any sort of contribution toward the fight for peace and justice. At the camp, it was different. There, when I left the work-site each evening, my eyes could see what we had accomplished that day, and my tired muscles could attest that I had done my part, however small it may be.

The way I see it, ICAHD's Summer Rebuilding Experience allows volunteers to do three great things. First, it provides people from various countries the chance to witness the occupation firsthand: to see the demolished houses and uprooted olive trees and to hear the personal stories, and thus equip us to share our experiences with others upon our return. Secondly, the camp provides a home to a family who had been robbed of one, a fact that, amidst all the politics and symbolism, should not be overshadowed. Finally, the camp provides the chance to take action in peaceful resistance, the chance to set a sign that, ultimately, injustice cannot win.

I consider myself honored to have been given the chance to take part in this amazing experience, and I sincerely thank all those who made it possible for me as well as those who enable the participation of others in the future.

Man teou!

Several months ago (yes, I am rather far behind in my documentation efforts), I visited a friend in his hometown of Bad Driburg, a quaint destination known for its spas, scenery, and men on benches.

Yet, the real highlight of the weekend was experiencing a true German Karneval celebration. Karneval precedes Lent and is the German equivalent of Mardi Gras, with the same level of public intoxication but with costumes instead of beads and nudity. Case in point: monkeys distributing bananas and booze.

The most interesting/amusing/disturbing part of the experience was the evening event, which consisted of countless middle-aged, small-town Germans clad in a wide assortment of costumes and gathered in an explosion of flower power.
If you can't imagine what that looks like, let me show you (bonus point for finding the gnomes, my personal favorite of the evening):

Once all had gathered and admired each other's apparel, the program began. This consisted of various groups marching to the stage (accompanied by the band's marching song) as we all stood up and clapped, the group presenting some sort of dance/skit/speech, and then marching from the stage (accompanied by the same song) as we yet again stood up and clapped.

And if this wasn't enough slightly creepy ritual, I found myself joining in (I'd like to see you resist this type of group conformity and peer pressure)on the battle cry cheer 'Man teou!' with accompanying arm wave that was passed back and forth roughly 500 times throughout the evening.

This fanfare continued for more than four hours.

This may all seem rather excessive and ridiculous, but there were some very important persons to honor:

George Washington wanna-bes

The Shriner-types who organised the whole event

More majorettes that I've seen in my lifetime

The Karneval King and Queen!

The women drumming on giant exercise balls

The lingerie-clad, pole-dancing crowd pleasers

The teen girls disturbingly clad in hooker outfits and performing virtual strip-teases

The teen girls even more disturbingly clad in matching wigs and ruffled underpants and performing the can-can.











There was, of course, much more to see, but my camera couldn't handle all the excitement.

While the whole event was quite bizarre and left me with burning eyes and smoke-scented clothing, I am grateful for the rare glimpse of instinctive German behavior in its natural habitat.

My personal crossing guard

When cruising the bike lanes of Hamburg, who you end up behind can be crucial, as any number of annoying traits or simply the slowness of your forerunner can set you on a treacherous attempt to pass them, in which you narrowly miss colliding with pedestrians.

Today, however, I wound up behind my newest role model.

First, she had a review mirrior sticking off her handlebars, something not all too uncommon among Hamburg's bikeriding senior citizens.

Even better, anytime she crossed an intersecting street, onto which cars were waiting to turn, she would hold up her hand in a symbolic effort to halt the vehicles. Or, as I imagined it, as if to say 'Oh no, you don't!' to any drivers who would rob her of her right-of-way.

As humorous as this was, I, having been very nearly hit by turning vehicles on multiple occasions, could easily understand the rationale of her defensive riding.

Sadly, she turned in another direction, and I spent the rest of my commute feeling just a bit less protected.

The weekend's best

Visit from a friend and how much better everything is when done with company. Pakistani bread. Tour guide failures. 'To your left, you will see the Messe, again.' Planten un Bloomen after a long absence. Marzipan-cherry ice cream. The absurdity of the Reeperbahn. Narrated vocational tests and finally discovering my calling as a vineyard worker. Hamburger Hafen and pondering potential life on the high sea. Ewan McGregor on the big screen. 'What? We're not allowed to interact with the art?' The German genius of baking Brötchen with hazlenuts and pumpkin seeds. Sun on the beach. Attempting to justify the game of baseball - 'If you need a 7th inning stretch, then the game should be over by the 5th inning.' Fresh cherries. View from the boat and view from above. Reading in the park while Bob Dylan sings to me a few hundred meters away.

And this (which you may or may not be able to see, but I can):
https://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=764634245063&comments

I'm so much older than I can take

I turned 25 the other day.

In the week surrounding this life anniversary, I did the following:

- through a mix of bikeride-stripping and careless clothing placement, allow my beloved sweatshirt to be so tangled in the bike gears that it had to be surgically removed

- experience a minor bike collision that left with me with bloody knuckles for the rest of the day

- engage in a culinary miscalculation and thus delay the dinner of 30 hungry national assembly attendees (and trigger slight emotional breakdown)

- somehow manage to drop my cell phone precisely into my mug of tea, thus depriving me of both communication and time-keeping ability

- break my office's coffee press just as said assembly attendees were arriving, desperate for a caffeine jolt

Obviously, in my case, grace does not come with age.

In a Land Without Cracker Jack

Today I was heading through the maze of overstimulation that is an electronics store in search of a paper shredder (so that we can destroy all evidence of our peace-keeping secrets) when I happened past the TV section.

And what should greet my eyes but baseball! A for-real MLB game (Reds vs. Phillies) in the middle of soccer-obsessed Europe.

It was a glorious yet bittersweet sight. I'm entering my third summer apart from America's pastime, and nothing rubs that in more than seeing it blaring on 30 television screens.

In light of this, I hereby offer free food and lodging to anyone who will come play catch with me.