People of Peace: The Dirt

“In addition to their symbolic meaning, olives are a main source of income for around 80,000 Palestinian families. According to UN figures, around 48% of the agricultural land in the West Bank and Gaza is planted with olive trees. Olive trees account for 70% of fruit production in Palestine and contribute around 14% to the Palestinian economy. 93% of the olive harvest is used for olive oil production while the rest is used for olive soap, table olives and pickles. Much of the olive production is for local consumption with a small amount of olives being exported primarily to Jordan. With the growing interest in organic food and fair trade, Palestinian olives are now also reaching European and North American markets.”[1]

This summer I have attempted to start my very own garden, small and silly as it may be. It has become one of the most refreshing new beginnings in my life, with little tastes of real dreams that unravel deliciously with the seasons. I have learned and experienced much in regards to the way that healing can come from helping something grow and receiving from it, getting your hands dirty and cleansing your lungs with fresh air and exposing your skin to some vitamin D and summer rain. The muscle aches, deep sleeps, and energy that comes from the movements of care-taking. The self-reflection, meditation, prayer that flows so automatically as you talk to the weeds. The joy of the first tomato and the patience towards squirrels just being their annoying selves and the frustration of a pest and the labour of hauling soil. The soul being alive with its kin in the outdoors, away from the bright screens and plastic and the noise. The humility in the admission and submission to the elements, to that which is indeed greater than ourselves and our control.

That was just for me, as one.

The health benefits that come from bringing people together in that process is romanticized here yes, but truly proven to be beneficial to communities, cities that enter into hands-on engagement, relationship building, and lessons of learning to work, appreciate life, and one another. Of course, with the population sizes that we have, and many varying jobs and tasks in society to accomplish, large farms are wonderfully essential - yet there is something wonderful about the familial and communal dedication to harvest, that relies on the seasons, the weather, and traditions of memories together outside, working towards a collective goal.

This understanding of the individual and collective physical, mental, and spiritual health of being in our natural home is seen in the centuries-old traditions of the way of life in this region, and is still carried out by those Palestinians that can still farm their land, or choose to take the risk if it is dangerous in their area, or have been restricted access to their land (i.e. in a deemed “military zone” or settlement area, etc.)...

Olive harvesting is a family affair. The youngest children play and scatter around the olive groves all day while the rest pick the fruit from low to high. Hard work is rewarded by rests for shaey (black tea with maramija) or khawa (arabic coffee), and a picnic lunch under the canopy. From morning till evening the day is spent either talking and laughing amongst the process of picking, or ears tuned into the patter of olives falling on the tarps laid underneath to catch their fall, and the thunder of the leaves rustling in the breeze. Families argue and laugh around the trees that their ancestors have tended for centuries or longer... until now. With forced interruption and attack, they are not given the choice to give up this deep connection, and have little to no say in the matter. Yet they resist where they can...

For many of us urbanites, we cannot understand the depth of connection this land has on the identities of many Indigenous peoples.

For many of the Jewish people who desire these connections like those that came before them; stealing, burning, committing apartheid, and destroying not only a people group, but the blessed Olive trees themselves (a holy tree in their tradition as well), is not the answer. It is unexceptionable, not only according to the ancient scriptures, but by the verbal scripture that breathes out of the mouths of those calling for justice all over the world today. The voice of God rings true not just in one's interpretation of texts, but the Spirit that lives and is alive all around us, all through us.

"Israeli Settlers' Violence, Movement Restrictions Negatively Impact Olive Industry" [2]