Bethlehem...ain't your Momma's town.

After a dry period of posting and no pictures, today is the day. About two weeks ago, I made a trip to Bethlehem with two school friends in order to get a little information for a paper I am writing ("Analyzing Mental Health Infrastructures for Adolescents in Jerusalem and Bethlehem"). Unlike the usual American citizen making a trip to Bethlehem for religious purposes, my trip was very different. My goal was to visit the Bethlehem Mental Institution run by the Palestinian Authority. After coffee and cake, like every good Arab mother would provide, Suzan, her sister Mimi, and I headed towards the checkpoint. Before that day, I hadn't realized how close "the other side" actually was.

A ten minute ride on the green and white bus led us to the most intimidating barrier ever. I hadn't seen "the fence" close up and I didn't realize how huge it actually was. We head towards the checkpoint where I flash my American passport to the Israeli soldier and walk right through the turnstyle. Suzan and Mimi are not being let in. The soldier proceeds to yell at them pointing at their Israeli identity cards. I go up to the soldier behind the glass and ask him politely what the problem is.

Soldier: The girls are not residents of Bethlehem and today we are not letting in non-residents.
Shayna: Well you just let me in.
Soldier: They are not allowed in. There is nothing I can do.
Shayna: Yes, there is. These two girls are my translators...
Soldier: Lady, they are not residents!
Shayna: You are NOT yelling at me. These girls are students at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and are working on a massive paper with me and if you do not let them in this minute I WILL CALL THE AMERICAN CONSULATE!!!
I am fuming and the color of a killer tomato.
Soldier: Yallah. Go.

So we went, and immediately I was struck by the barrenness and the dirtiness in front of me. We got in a cab and headed for the institution which was located in a not-so-nice place. Even the cab driver looked at us strangely. After a 15 minute ride through a place where Hell's Kitchen looks like Beverly Hills, we arrived outside of the gates of the institution. We got out of the cab and headed through the gates. The girls looked at me strangely.

Suzan: We thought it was a joke.
Shayna: What was a joke?
Suzan: When we were children and acted bad, our mother used to say that she would send us to Waise. We never thought it was real.
Shayna: What is Waise?
Suzan: It's the name of the institution.

Needless to say, we were all quite surprised with the openness of the nurses and staff (very verbal about the fact that they are paid very little and do not have enough medications and machinery) and the overall cleanliness of the place. The girls were very quiet, not used to visiting or seeing such a place. I felt they deserved a meal afterwards.

Anyways, my visit to the institution was both fruitful and surprising. Although it did not help entirely with the subject of adolescent mental health, I do feel that it clarified many of my misconceptions. For example, if you visit the Palesitnian Mental Health Department's website, it harps on how the entire problem is because of Israel. While at Waise, most of the blame cast was on the Palestinian Authority itself, being unable to handle a situation that ran just fine before. The trip was both fascinating and exhausting.

As for Bethlehem itself, Jesus would be really pissed off if he could see what they've done to his hometown.