Studying at Princeton as a foreign student, I am learning about the different American holidays. Regarding Thanksgiving, I've heard friends express sentimentality for tradition, quality time with the family and large quantities of turkey. Only occasionally the original theme of the holiday — giving thanks — came up. Instead of going to a friends' place and experiencing a wholesome American Thanksgiving, I was invited to go to a small town in Connecticut, and spend the holiday in a very un-American, un-Thanksgiving way. Along the way, I realized what it is in America that I want to give thanks for.
We met in Connecticut, about 60 of us, mostly college students from around the United States. But we weren't very ordinary college students; we were all from regions of war, most of us from around the Middle East and a few of us from the Balkans, India and the two sides of Cyprus. We had all gone through a program called Seeds of Peace, an American initiative to bring together teenagers from conflict zones, show them the human face of their supposed enemy and create dialogue and friendship. None of us celebrate Thanksgiving, and so we took the opportunity to gather, exchange impressions of college life in America and meet old friends.
I didn't know who was coming to Connecticut, so I nearly had a heart attack when I saw three friends whom I have not seen for over three years now. We had all become friends through Seeds of Peace when we were high school students in the Middle East. Yet while I was going to high school in Netanya, Israel, Najeeb was a Palestinian living in Beit Jala, Dahlia an Egyptian living in Cairo, and Jamil a Jordanian living in Amman. When the Intifada in the Middle East started three years ago, it became impossible to keep in touch and visit each other in the Middle East. This weekend, we all reunited in Connecticut. We are older, and we have been through a lot over three years of Intifada. But after these years of living on opposite sides in a war, we could still look at each other as human beings and catch up like old friends.
At Princeton, most of my friends are American. It struck me over the weekend how much culturally closer I felt to Arabs from all over the Arab world than to my American friends. Sometimes people speak of a clash between Western and Arab civilizations, with Israel being a natural part of Western civilization. Yet Israelis and Arabs dance to the same music, enjoy the same foods, and, let's be honest, are loud and upfront and speak in similar languages that sound incredibly rough and angry to most Westerners. While in the Middle East our people were killing each other, cultural similarities made it easy for us Israelis and Arabs to hang out together, get to know each other and express mutual hopes for a shared brighter future.
Over the weekend, we spoke a lot about having a big reunion of all the people we met in Seeds of Peace. We quickly realized the task was not so simple. All but a few Israelis are currently serving in the Israeli Defense Forces, so they would be unable to leave Israel and come to a reunion abroad. A reunion which includes them would have to take place in Jerusalem. Yet our Egyptian, Jordanian, Moroccan, and Tunisian friends could not get visas to come to Jerusalem for a reunion. In the euphoria of Thanksgiving, we had forgotten the reason we hadn't seen in each other in three years. There is no place in the Middle East today for friends from across the border to meet and create dialogue.
I don't know how many Americans actually spend Thanksgiving giving thanks. For me, the meaning of Thanksgiving in America was giving thanks to America as the land where a reunion of Israelis and Arabs is possible. America is the country that welcomed us all, no matter where we are from, to study in its universities. Palestinians whose universities have not been operational during the Intifada have come here to get an education. I got the chance to receive the best education in the world here at Princeton. In the Middle East we live on opposite sides of disputed borders; here, we are all students, learning and sharing our thoughts and ideas. It is not coincidental that Seeds of Peace brings its participants to the United States to meet each other for the first time. I am now four years after my first meeting with Arabs; I was 14 years old back then and looking at those Arabs in the eye terrified me to death. In America, I created with Arab friends a place where we hang out, play music and go bowling regardless of the fact that our people are at war with each other.
After Sept. 11, I fear that all these things for which I give America thanks are slowly changing. Visas are harder and harder to obtain, and it's hard to ignore the looks on American faces as we walk by, chatting in Arabic or Hebrew and playing Middle Eastern music. I hope America maintains those aspects I give thanks for over Thanksgiving, and stays a place where such a reunion will always be possible.
Karen Karniol-Tambour is a sophomore from Netanya, Israel.
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