Battir Village

Battir Village in the West Bank, Palestine

Issa Ghneim has held a very special place in my heart since the first time I met him. I first learned of Palestinian hospitality and their appreciation for foreign visitors through Issa. He took care of me and my friends one rainy morning in Bethlehem. His respect and adoration for Palestine, his homeland, offered a depth of warmth and reverence to the land and people that has forever stamped my heart. 

It was pouring rain, a very unusual sight in Bethlehem, and a taxi driver pulled up to me and four of my friends. We came together from the U.S, venturing into a Journey of Understanding. It was early in the morning, cold and wet with a far walk to go, and Issa appeared. Immediately, he stopped to buy us some warm coffee from a roadside stand, providing warmth and comfort with his generosity. He offered to then take us to breakfast at “the very best place in Beit Jala for homus,” how could we possibly turn this down? Issa turned off his cab clock, turned around and drove us to Beit Jala.

Come to find out, the restaurant was not open yet, so Issa took us on a little tour of the Beit Jala as we waited to eat. He was our own personal guide, and was more enthusiastic and proud than any paid guide I ever have had. Issa saw passed the settlements all around, he would just stare off into the mountains and proudly exclaim the beauty of the view, or the significance of the site. He was full of positivity and acclamations. One hour later, we headed back to the Old City and had the very best homus I have ever tasted, Issa’s treat. When we got back to our hotel later, we all scrambled through the shekels in our pocket, desiring to give him the money he deserved. He stopped us and said, “No, please, this is friendship, not business.” I will never forget those words and the stamp it left on my heart toward the Palestinian way.

On my return back to the Holy Land, I made it a point to reconnect with my new friend, Issa. Of course, we went back to the Old City for some more of that delicious hommus, and then spent the afternoon hiking through the Battir Village, a beautiful mountainous land outside of Beit Jala known for its ancient Roman ruins and irrigational system.  Issa heart for sharing his home with people came out once again, he pointed out historically significant spots and showed me the very best viewing places. 

In the back of my mind, I could not help but wonder how he could be so positive and proud knowing all the occupation and oppression Palestinians have faced in their homeland, so I asked him his thoughts. 

“I just don’t think about it,” he said. That was an answer I had yet to hear from anyone. “What can I do? If I think about it, it just makes me really sad and angry, there is nothing I can do, so why give myself an unnecessary headache,” Issa said. My heart sank, I sat there looking at him soaking up an incredible view, but just beyond the mountain in front of us were blocks of cement settlements marked with an Israeli flag and occupation stake camp.

Battir’s unique ecosystem and terrace agricultural irrigational system dates back to Roman times. Although its demand for preservation is apparent, this pristine historical Palestinian village is currently under threat of the Israel West Bank barrier cutting through the land and irrigational system. The settlement just ahead is an eye sore and reminder of the constant fight and struggle for peace, protection and preservation in this land. 

Issa refuses to see the bad in somewhere so sacred and special to him. The risk of an unnecessary headache outweighs the risk of facing the disappointing truth. It makes me wonder if this might be a similar attitude amongst Palestinians. I have seen their devotion and value to their land, perhaps the beauty and love for their home is all they feel that have left, and maybe that is worth holding on to, even if it means ignoring the big eye sore before your very eyes. ​