By Lynn Dang

I was raised in a Catholic home and school. 

With my personal and academic roots in a Catholic education, I didn’t know much about other religions. One of the first times I actively wondered what it meant to be anything but Christian was in 6th grade, when I transferred out of the Catholic school system.

There is a popular phrase among learners: “you don’t know what you don’t know.” Even with this seemingly expanded knowledge of religion as I learned from middle-school classmates of different faiths, I didn’t know what I didn’t know.

To the extent of my knowledge, being Jewish was just another choice among monotheistic religions. Even as I met a variety of people as a Pitt freshman, and talked to my Jewish best friend about her identity, the concept of BEING Jewish – not just believing in Judaism, or participating in customs – did not click in my head. It was not until I attended Hillel JUC’s Passover Seder service that I realized a Jewish identity could be secular.

my first time abroad
I was headed to a country I knew nothing about
with a conflict I knew nothing about
And
a land’s peoples I knew nothing about.

On the flight to Israel, the airplane’s windows were tinted, making the sun look like the moon – and close enough to touch. But I wouldn’t have slept either way, out of excitement.

my first time abroad
Stray cats galore! Hummus! All types of craft beer, and wine tastings! Dancing on cars, fireworks, laughter, crying, new friends, old friends, the tallest trees I’ve ever seen. In the most beautiful old city: Jerusalem.

my first time abroad
On night one, we met one of the most well-spoken and informed professionals I will ever meet. Because of his career in journalism, he was able to give a long presentation about the conflict, outlining the complexities and multi-faceted nature of arguments over land ownership and social injustices. Despite his excellent presentation skills and expertise, I found myself switching between “sides” – Israelis or Palestinians?

In the United States, we debate first, discuss second. Each new argument by the journalist compelled me to switch my stance. I believe most of us were trapped in these mindsets of black and white. One side is right. One side is wrong. For those who came into the trip with some background knowledge, I suspect this evening validated existing biases.

my first time abroad
I learned how to learn. The answer is surprisingly simple: collect information, and make a judgement with qualifiers.

But what information should we collect, using which qualifiers? We asked our Fact Finders tour guide. Our bus driver. Our meetings with Israeli officials. Our meetings with Palestinian officials. Our Hillel staff members. Refugees from camps in the West Bank. Israeli citizens who fought for the Israeli Defense Forces. Arab citizens of Israel. Agents of social change on the Palestinian side of the wall. Israelis and Palestinians who worked together daily on environmental efforts.

Most importantly, we asked each other. The atmosphere evolved from perpetuating bias to challenging bias; we addressed and dismantled our individual and group beliefs. The general feeling was comfortably uncomfortable as we settled into a routine of collecting information, challenging ourselves, and debriefing. 

my first time abroad
Although our routine was extremely challenging, both emotionally and intellectually, I could feel myself learning. I was confident in my ability to be self-aware about what values I prioritized as I learned about this conflict. One of them was empathy.

However, the largest test of my empathy wasn’t during our scheduled debates or discussions. It was during those seemingly insignificant moments between everything.

While walking through a refugee camp, the community seemed quiet and empty. But looking closer, I could see children peeking out over their balconies at us. After a few minutes of walking, I suppose word spread that we were there. One girl decided to open her home’s door. An shy 5 year old Palestinian stood in the frame of her front door for high fives. She was thrilled for all of the love and attention, slowly coming out of her shell.

I was so excited!! I extended my hand swinging it to meet hers – but abruptly halted it when I spotted her hand. The entirety of her small hand, covered in filth due to a lack of sanitation access, instinctively made me pull my hand away. Her smile fell. As I froze in shock, mind racing on what to do, the person behind me luckily started playing with her.

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Later in Ramallah, I bought the cheapest meal of my life – 8 shekels, or $2.25, for which included a jumbo plastic water bottle and two entrees. I already had my reusable bottle, but I bought more because it was so inexpensive. Carrying it along as we walked to the Yasser Arafat museum, a young boy followed us.

I was suspicious that he would attempt to steal money from us. We were an out-of-place large American tourist group. But as time passed, I realized WE were the intruders on his search – his daily walking route to collect recyclables for money.

People all over the streets were sweltering under the sun without water or food, but there was basically no plastic to collect. I suspect that of the plastic bottles he did find, most were from relatively wealthy tourists. He walked with us for over 20 minutes, looking around at the ground, never looking up to notice me noticing him.

But I kept my unneeded water bottle hidden in my bag. I still can’t put quite into words why I didn’t just give it to him.

There was an internal battle between my desire to help and my desire to not disrupt the pace of the group. I also questioned whether I was over-noticing this boy. If I asked the group today whether they knew who I was talking about, most probably wouldn’t have a clue.

While my internal thoughts swirled, he took a different fork in the road. I attempted to run after him to finally give him my bottle. Traffic stopped me. Why did I wait so long?

Although they definitely wouldn’t know me if I saw them tomorrow, I often think about these children as I fall asleep. I am ashamed of my lack of action, especially with that water – to have held so much privilege and not helped him or anyone else on the street. The shame is overwhelming even as I write these words.

my first time abroad
We deeply and intimately learned the meaning of a gray area. How can groups coexist, and how can they own their land? How can we have both justice and mercy, which seem to contradict, but which are both rooted in empathy? How can we provide aid, and how can we ensure sustainable solutions?

These are questions that Israelis and Palestinians must address if they truly want to shrink the conflict. Chaos and complexities for these religious and ethnic groups can seem like an inescapable battle.

Israel was supposed to teach me about politics, but it taught me about life. From the forever packed in my 10 days here, I learned to have the grace to accept responsibilities. To be open-minded. To hold onto our humanity that is, in conflicts and doubt, so easily lost.

Perspectives is a fully subsidized trip to Israel-Palestine which is offered to exceptional student leaders interested in exploring socio-political aspects of Israel and the Palestinian territories. This program is designed to break stereotypes and move away from polarizing soundbites and will give students the opportunity to learn about the people and diverse cultures existing in these areas first hand.