Is Your RPCV Exhibiting Errant Conversations Syndrome?

Just recently, Peace Corps released the latest in a string of public service announcements (PSAs) commemorating the agency's 50 years of service to the United States and many parts of the world.  One PSA in particular captured my attention because it did an excellent job of portraying the random anecdotes I've been sharing with friends and family when I come across something that reminds me of my time in Morocco.

When greeting people for instance, I've been shaking people's hand as you customarily do here in the States, but now I proceed, as I did in Morocco, to place my right hand near to my heart to show my respect or to express how dear that person or that encounter is to me.  In Morocco, it was second nature to follow the handshake with a tap to one's heart, and despite being back home with old friends and in a completely different setting, my body almost involuntarily follows the same process.  Sometimes I catch myself in the act or others point it out, and explaining the gesture is often a topic of an errant conversation.

As far as language, I miss speaking darija.  The Moroccan Arabic dialect was fun to speak.  Phonetically speaking, it was a challenge to sound off the "ع" (aain) or "غ" (ghain) or the back of the throat "ق" (qa) or even the emphatic D, T, or to differentiate between the airy "ه" (similar to the 'h' for hello) or the raspy "ح" (similar to the sound you make to check if your breath smells).  During the first few months of service, combining some of these sounds seemed impossible, but after some time my tongue somehow came to accords with the sounds my ear was finally able to recognize and distinguish and slowly began to mimic them 'to the t'.

Even more challenging was understanding the hidden or indirect messages in Moroccan speech.  During training we were told that Moroccans used a ton of what our cultural and language facilitators called "God phrases" as part of their everyday language.  So instead of saying goodbye, they would say llah y3nk (God help you).  To thank someone for a good deed or to ask for a favor, they could say 3afak (the equivalent of please), but in most cases they would say llah yrHm l-walidin (God bless your parents) and my all-time favorite, preceding or following any statement calling for or mentioning any future action, insh'allah (God willing).

When I first arrived in site all 'gun ho' about starting a new project and building community support for it, I spoke to a number of people and tried to persuade them to join me in addressing some of the expressed needs of the community, but towards the end of our meetings, a large number of people would simply finish off our conversations with an insh'allah.  While it is true that we do not know what will happen tomorrow and we have little control over the future, being told that it was all up to God's will seemed a little fatalistic to me.  Later on though, I learned that the use of insh'allah was not only a way to show respect to the all-knowing God, but it was also used to say 'no' without offending the other person or to express that something is unlikely to happen.

Later on when people recognized that my speaking abilities had improved and I had demonstrated some fundraising capacity, some of the same people that had inshalla-ed me before began proposing their project ideas to me.  Unfortunately, by then I had already made commitments to other groups and had enough work for the rest of service, so without offending them, I respectfully inshalla-ed them back.

Back in the states, some people have proposed going to such and such an event or organizing something, and I've involuntarily blurted out insh'allah and I'm not doing it out of respect to God (although I respect It greatly), but mainly because the event or the activity does not appeal to me.  Sometimes I catch myself and sometimes others catch me saying it and wonder what the heck came out of my mouth, but then I explain that I do not know if I can or will be able to because it truly is up to God.  I say that I can't rule it out, but that I'd rather defer to God because no one really knows what the future may bring.  Unfortunately, this answer does not fly with most of my friends who still interpret this answer as some sort of newfound religious piety--not at all consistent with my beliefs and lifestyle--and not as a cordial way to say 'I am really not that interested'.  Then again, most U.S. Americans prefer directness, which is a cultural aspect that I've had to get readjusted to and that is often another subject of an errant conversation.

See the minute-long PSA titled "Conversations" below:    



Errant Conversation Syndrome (ECS) is common among all RPCVs.  Most exhibit symptoms throughout their lifetime.  They speak about their projects, language challenges, cultural differences, past bowel movements, pros and cons of Peace Corps, and a host of other service-related experiences.  At this time, there is no known "cure" (nor should there be) for this phenomenon, but I hear that active listening and a non-judgmental attitude are always welcomed.  And who knows? You may learn a thing or two from all these random pieces of information.  Thanks for reading.

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If you'd like to learn more darija, please visit the Friends of Morocco page on Learning Moroccan Arabic. I've also selected a few books on one of the recommended book widgets.  BssHa to your learning!

To watch other Peace Corps PSAs, please visit: http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.media.psa

Back in Jordan: Holy Land Divided and Partitioned

After a few days in Jerusalem, I made my way back to Jordan.  I had to go back the same way I went in by way of the Sheikh Hussein Bridge, but the second time around took a lot less time.  On my way up Bayt She'an, I stopped at the King Hussein crossing, but was told by one of the border guards that I could not cross because I had an exit stamp from Jordan meaning that I would need to pay for another visa to cross into Jordan.  Essentially, Jordan considers the Palestinian held territory to be theirs as well--granted it was at one point--so visiting Ramallah for instance to Jordanian authorities would be as if you had never left their country.  So in order to make it back to the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, I would need to go through either the Sheikh Hussein Bridge or head all the way down south to Wadi Araba.  I knew that a bus headed to Bayt She'an would come around in about 20 or so minutes so I parked my stuff on the west side bus stop and waited for the next northbound bus to pass through again.

Delicious falafel and Hebrew brew to wash it down

Once I arrived in Bayt She'an, I grabbed a falafel sandwich and a kosher beer at a fast-food joint just down the block from the bus stop next to the McDonalds.  The kosher beer was a decent pilsen, but nothing too exciting; however, knowing that I was on my way back to a Muslim country where drinking is haram (forbidden) even though it does happen in tourist areas , I took my time taking in what little scenery there was while I savored the brew.  The falafel was quite good actually mainly because of the tangy yogurt they slathered all over the bread.  After finishing the beer, the restaurant manager asked if I needed a cab to go to the crossing.  I said, "Yes," and within minutes the same cab driver that brought me to Bayt She'an a couple of days ago was there to take me back.  Whaddayaknow, small world!

This time around, though, he said less offensive things about his neighbors on the other side of the river and was mainly interested in how I spent my days in Jerusalem.  Towards the end of the short trip, he gave me his business card and told me to call him next time I pass through so I can dine with his family.  It was a nice gesture to leave on.

At the crossing, I paid my Israeli exit tax (98.50 NIS or roughly $30, ouch!), and on the other side I paid for another Jordanian visa (10 JD or approx $15, ouch again!).  Knowing that I would now have this visa for the next 30 days, I decided that I wasn't going to rush my travels in Jordan.  I called up my Peace Corps volunteer contacts near Irbid.  One of them told me that I could totally crash his pad for another night.  Unfortunately, the only way to get out of the crossing station on the Jordanian side was to pay 19JD or a little over $25 for a 12km ride to the Jordan River Crossing taxi service, which in NYC would be a bargain, but in Jordan, it's highway robbery.

The dispatcher was trying to convince me to go all the way to Amman and pay 35JD for the trip, which was even more obscene knowing full well that a Hijazi bus from Irbid to Amman runs about 2JD, but it was a better value per kilometer nonetheless.  This was one instance when traveling with someone else would have made the trip much cheaper.  A lot of Jordanians at the crossing were already traveling in twos or threes and split the fares to their destinations.  The few Israelis that had crossed over got into a tour bus that was waiting for them.  Finally, the dispatcher gave up trying to convince me to go to Amman and made the call for a taxi for Irbid, and I reluctantly paid the 19JD.

Once in Irbid, my volunteer host told me that he was sightseeing in Umm Qays with another volunteer and some of his Jordanian buddies that I had hung out with on my first visit to his village.  So from Irbid, I took a transit to Umm Qays for 1JD.  Normally, it's about .500 pistares/half a JD for the 15 minute ride, but because it was still Leid Kabir /Al-Adha or the Grand Holiday Feast weekend, the unlicensed, private transits wanted a little extra.

Upon arrival, they told me that we were going on a little road trip. I hopped onto another passenger van, and instead of going back on the road to Irbid, we went the opposite direction, downhill from Umm Qays and towards a military checkpoint.  Our driver and our Jordanian friend asked us for our passports, they handed them to the guards, and then went about asking the guards where they were from, which village exactly, family names, and then told them that we were American tourists passing through.  The guards took a peek in.  Saw all three of us and none of us looked stereotypically American so he asked our guide again if we were indeed American.  He confirmed we were, the guard nodded, and then signaled that we could proceed.

We went another mile or so until we reached another checkpoint.  Now, I was thinking, "Maybe I should have asked where we were going before jumping onto this van." For a moment, I thought that maybe we were headed to Syria, which seemed unlikely, but then Umm Qays is a stone's throw away so it wasn't too far fetched.  At the second checkpoint, our Jordanian friend followed the same procedure, but this time one of the guards mentioned a village that one of our friends recognized.  From there, they went back and forth dropping names of mutual acquaintances.  That guard only glanced at our passports and then handed them back.

After that checkpoint, our driver cranked the car into second gear as we climbed a hill overlooking the Yarmouk River Valley sandwiched between the towering Golan Heights and the Jordanian east bank hills where a few families were there picnicking and watching the sunset.

Golan Heights from Jordan

Our Jordanian friend asked a gentleman who was laid out on a blanket on the hill's edge to point out some landmarks for us.  The man pointed north to the Golan Heights, which is currently under Israeli control, but that he considered to be part of Syria.

He pointed east and said that the olive-tree-dotted hills were part of Jordan and then pointed west and said that the fertile valley extending towards the Sea of Galilee/Lake Tiberias was Palestine.

He then pointed specifically to a certain area in the valley and said that his family had lived there before the war drove them out.

He said that he came to that hill often to gaze into Palestine and he hoped that one day he would be able to go back and live there once again.

The sun was setting quickly so our driver and friend told us to get back in the van.  We descended down the same hill and got back on the road.  We stopped at another military checkpoint.  We showed our IDs and were flagged through.  We stopped on the side of the road about 2-3K from the last checkpoint to see the Palestinian territory up close and the barbed and razor-wire fences on the other side of the river.

We were told that this was the demilitarized zone and that entire stretches on both sides of the river were lined with land mines.  One of our guides commented that it was like fillaha (agriculture/farming).  Along with the land mine cultivation, there were some fancy irrigation channels with all sorts of tunnels going in and out of hillside.

After getting a few pictures, we made our way back to Irbid.  It took me a while to process what I had seen.  For so long I had heard about the tensions in this region of the world, had read about the Six Day War, and had watched one Al-Jazeera documentary after another about the Israeli occupation while living in Morocco, but now I had met someone, a  Jordanian national of Palestinian descent, who was personally affected by the conflict.  I had seen first hand how decades of unresolved border disputes had led to a buffer of land mines to prevent further incursions from either party.  It was just hard to reconcile the land mines, military checkpoints, razor-wire fencing, every other young Israeli carrying assault rifles, and the animosity on both sides of the river with the messages of peace and compassion that I had read in the Bible, and I wondered whether, if ever, the message to love thy neighbor and to do unto others as you would like to have done unto thyself that is central to all Abrahamic faiths would ever be manifested in the very place where it was preached thousands of years ago.

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I think we are all guilty of dismissing every other beauty queen's wish for world peace.  It seems preposterous in the face of the calamities this world has witnessed and the conflict-ridden state of affairs.  I also dismiss it because it is hard to imagine what that world would look like.  Where and how do you begin?  How do you sustain it?

In a follow up to her Charter for Compassion, religious historian Karen Armstrong talks of reviving the Golden Rule.  She mentions in the TED talk below how doing so has the potential to turn us from an ego-centric mindset to a transcendent state, "an imaginative act of empathy, putting yourself in the place of another", which has the effect of making us value the life of another as much as we value our own life.  Towards the end, she paraphrases a theme in C.S. Lewis's book Four Loves in which the author differentiates between erotic love when one looks deeply into another's eyes and friendship when two people stand side by side gazing out towards a goal.  She says, "We don't have to fall in love with each other, but we can become friends....and when people of all different persuasions come together, working side by side, for a common goal, differences melt away.  And we learn amity.  And we learn to live together and to get to know one another."  It's a thoughtful response worthy of some serious consideration.  See the full TED Talk below:

My Unfinished List of Moroccan Culinary Treats: Mint Tea, Marinated Olives, Pure Olive Oil, Chebekia, and Harira

Moroccans are proud of their cuisine and they should be; it's some of the most tasty, best seasoned, and diverse in the Mediterranean.  Sometimes you need to take a drive to experience the diversity, and if you do, you'll certainly be rewarded.  Below is just one list of many lists to come.

I actually did not cook a lot of Moroccan food while in service, but was a happy recipient of a lot of home-cooked meals.  In most cases, the kitchen was off-bounds for me so I had to ask other female volunteers or search the web for insight into the magic that was taking place behind closed doors.  As I sit back and reflect on my two years of Peace Corps service, the cuisine is something that I'll surely miss.  However, even though I am back stateside, there's no reason why I shouldn't try to recreate the magic.  I'm going to give it my best shot.  Some of the items listed have links to recipes and preparation videos so I invite you to do the same.  Enjoy the read and enjoy the food!

Aatay b na na (Moroccan Arabic name for their sweet-as-molasses Moroccan mint tea) a.k.a. "Le Whisky Marocain"

Some Moroccan Tea at the Cascades of Ouzoud

Moroccans cannot be separated from their tea.  If the price of tea were to go up or if the government were to impose a tax on the consumption of tea, without a doubt there would be a massive revolt.  It is a Moroccan staple that is unlikely to change for many years to come.

No matter where you go, there will be countless invitations to share a little tea.  In the cold winters, there's nothing better to warm you up or to give your body a sugar jolt.  At first, I was really turned off by all the sugar, but then I began to miss the taste of their tea and towards the end I would get on the garçon's (waiter) case about skimping on the sugar.

The distinct taste is a result of two main factors.  Unlike the American or British tradition of pouring hot water over the leafs or herbs and letting it brew in the mug, Moroccans brew their green tea leaves in their ornamental teapots, they then add a brick of sugar and brew it a little longer, and then they turn off the gas and add fresh mint (naa na), verveine (luiza), or other seasonal herbs like wormwood (chiba) - the stuff they use to make absinthe.  All three varieties are super delicious and healthy if you cut down on the sugar.  I invite you to try them all.

You may also find that many Moroccans don't blow on their tea to cool it; instead, they slurrrp it.  It took me a while to master the technique, but essentially you breath it in as you drink it and it has the same cooling effect if you do it right. BssHA (To your health) on your tea drinking! 

Mountains of Olives

Moroccan black olives

Seasoned Moroccan green olives

Morocco is blessed with the perfect climate to produce some of the finest olives in the Mediterranean.  Their seasonal winter rains and clear, blue summer sky are ideal for the sun-loving olive groves.  For someone who was a fan of olives already, arriving in Morocco and seeing heaps upon heaps of olives at the souq (market) was such a comforting and overwhelming experience.  What's even more mind-blowing is how great each variety tastes and even more amazing than that is how cheap they are.  Your typical U.S. supermarket stocks various sizes of green Spanish olives or bland black ones.  In contrast, most Moroccan markets showcase their largess in rows of olive peaks of light and dark green olives marinated in a mix of red peppers or lemon and parsley, purple olives, and the bitter and wrinkly, but flavor-packed black olives. 

Moroccan cuisine incorporates olives into their meals quite well.  I remember one day during my Community-Based Training my host mother marinated a whole chicken with onions, peppers, lemon rinds, and a dash of saffron and other spices, placed it in the oven with all the seasonings and then brought out a golden brown chicken that was surrounded by a moat of tangy chicken broth on an innumerable amount of green olives bobbing in suspension just asking to be devoured.  I had this meal over two years ago and I can remember it as if it was yesterday.  What a delicious feast!

Unadulterated Olive Oil

Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of Moroccan olive oil.  In terms of appearance, it looks a lot like the olive oil from Spain or Italy.  Some oils are filtered more than others.  Personally, I liked the strong bitter taste of some of the country-pressed oil that had undergone less filtering.

A typical breakfast in Morocco consisted of fresh out-of-the-oven bread that was then broken up and dabbed over olive oil.  Not what you would typically eat as breakfast in the U.S., but oh was it tasty.  The hot, toasty bread dunked in a little oil would simply melt in your mouth and the aroma of the oil was so wonderfully pleasant.

With such a large supply of olives, olive oil can be found everywhere also for much cheaper than you would find at U.S. or European stores.  I am surprised that Moroccan olive oil has not made it to U.S. stores yet.  According to the latest "Free Trade" deal between the U.S. and Morocco, olives and olive oil were going to be one of the few commodities that would start flowing to the U.S.  I hope it does, and I hope it does soon.

Ramadan Sweet Treats: Chebekia

When I arrived in Morocco back in September of '08, I got in about mid-way through Ramadan, a month characterized by the dawn to dusk no food or drink fast and more religious observance.  As you can imagine during the day, most people in the streets deprived of any liquids or food are moving in slow-motion careful not to exhaust their reserves.  When I first heard of Ramadan, I wasn't aware of the liquids ban and thought, "Now that's extreme." Then, later on I was invited to break the fast with my host family and tasted my first chebekia and thought, "Now that's extreme flavor!"

Even the bees are crazy for chebekia

These golden brown rolled and folded fried cookie dough treats smothered in honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds were a wake-up call to my taste buds.  No MSGs necessary to go on a binge.  These confections are naturally addicting.

Sometimes I think that I should go on an anthropological expedition to find out how different foods came about.  Is there a National Geographic show or something on the Food channel on this?  Well, if there is, the next episode should focus on these crunchy, sweet hard-to-put-down confections.  Until a show reveals the history and evolution of this delicious Moroccan delight, I will thank the culinary God(s) for giving my fellow Moroccans this bit of divine inspiration.    

In my old town of Sefrou, I could buy about a quarter kilo for 5DH (less than $1) from a old medina hole-in-the-wall Hlwa hanut (sweets vendor), and I would typically finish it in one night.  If I wanted some with real honey instead of syrup, I would shell out about twice as much at a fancy patisserie for about the same amount.  It's a dieter's worst nightmare.  Mountain Dew wouldn't stand a chance against these guys in jacking up your blood sugar so unless you're going to expend the calories, eat responsibly.

Click here if you wish to see a recipe.  Fortunately, if you're on your way to Morocco, no need to wait until Ramadan; most patisseries and some old medina Hlwa street vendors carry them year-round.

Harira

Whenever someone utters the word harira, my mind automatically drifts to my first bowl ever where I learned the art of eating it with bowl in hand, swishing it around in circular motion, and then giving it a hearty slurp.  In the cold Moroccan winters, it was a lifesaver.  When I was broke, it would stave off a growling stomach without breaking the bank (2DH or 25 cents for a bowl).

Harira, harira, hariraaaaa!!!

Tomato serves as the base, but with cilantro, parsley, ginger, onions, chickpeas, lentils, carrots, celery, and a handful of vermicelli all mixed in, it's much more than a tomato soup; it's a bonanza of flavor that is full of substance.

Harira is also very common during Ramadan.  Generally, families break the fast with a bowl before moving on to other life-reviving foods.  Not to worry though, harira can also be found year-round at most restaurants, hole-in-the-wall harira vendors, and a lot of families make it to survive the winter.  Some will add a bit of harsha (the equivalent of American corn-bread) to it or will break apart a chebekia on top.  Others that like the sweet and salty combination will simply eat some dates while slurping a mouthful of harira.  There are many ways to experience this hearty soup.  If you're unsure how to approach it, try them all!

Do try this at home! Click here for the recipe.

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Before I wrote this entry, I thought about ranking the items, but then I thought about how silly rankings really are.  I mean how do you compare chebekia to couscous; they're on two different playing fields and my rankings were in constant fluctuation as one couscous tasted better or different in someone's home than it did in someone else's.  Also, every region in Morocco prepares things slightly different depending on the availability of ingredients.  I still have a lot more food items that I need to write about.  This list is bound to grow in the coming months and years.

Thanks for reading and again BssHa (To your health) on your culinary endeavors.

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I found a few bestselling books on Moroccan cuisine on Amazon.  According to one reviewer, Paula Wolfert wrote a textbook-like guide to Moroccan cooking back in the 1970s that is still the authoritative book.  Some of the newer ones have better pictures, but may not be as authentic.  Check them out!

  

So You Want To Join Peace Corps

I just had to pass this along.  I haven't laughed this hard in I don't know how long.  An RPCV put together a brief YouTube video of a conversation between a young man who just finished his Peace Corps application and a parent or friend who is all too aware of the cultural misunderstandings and frustrations and the emotional and physical challenges that the young man may encounter during his service.

The various bits on the gastrointestinal issues, picking out "worms like zits", the local, organic foods myth, experiencing what winter is really like without any heating, the occasional hermit phase that many volunteers go through, and the case of the overbearing and bureaucratic supervisors are so spot on.  I had first-hand experience with a few of these and some others were expressed by fellow volunteers.  So many memories flashed through my mind with each exchange.

Some people may feel that this video discourages anyone from joining, but I would beg to differ.  I think a dose of reality is necessary, and I think glossing over the difficulties or side effects of serving is worse.  I think a lot of young people need a sense of idealism to get through the rough patches, but they shouldn't be naive.  In a way that quixotic idealism is perhaps what prompts volunteers to help build a school where there was no school, set up a computer lab where there was none, foster the growth of a small business despite its many naysayers, or raise the self-esteem of young women in a society that does not value their input.  Sometimes you are able to accomplish the goals you set out for yourself and other times you fail miserably for a variety of reasons that may or may not be under your control.

Let's say hypothetically that I was able to go back to the past on a Back to the Future's DeLorean Time Machine (I've always wanted to, and yes, this movie reference is pretty old) knowing what I know now about my Peace Corps experience to the time when I decided to go.  Would I still go? Absolutely!  I was challenged personally and even professionally.  I'm not sure how you can measure personal growth, but I do agree with French novelist Marcel Proust who said, "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”  Living in Morocco and traveling through the Middle East and Europe have exposed me to different ways people have decided to carry out their lives, and the journey has obliterated the notion of what we Americans consider to be the normal, usual, or the customary way of life.

I think it's difficult to understand another vantage point unless one is fully immersed in another, but it doesn't take a trip or an extended stay overseas to notice differences.  The U.S. is fortunate to have little pockets of people from all over the world that have established restaurants, businesses, and places of worship that reflect their values where one can get a taste of that culture.  And I guess if one is still wanting more, then of course, one should head out and plunge in to get the full experience.

So you want to join  the United States Peace Corps? If you have the time and the financial means to do so, do it!  Beware of the hardships.  Then, when you've had time to reflect a bit, come back to tell us what you've learned and what you've seen.  Enjoy the video and go ahead and finish your application already!




More travel quotes at: http://thinkexist.com/quotations/travel/

Is There Enough Milk and Honey for All?

So I got up early in the morning and my couchsurfing hosts in Israel dropped me off at a nearby bus stop where I was then able to take a bus to the central bus station in Jerusalem where I was then able to hop on an Egged bus to the Sheikh Hussein Bridge. The bus ride from Jerusalem to the Sheikh Hussein Bridge was 40.50NIS, same as last time, and the trek was about 2 hours or so.

The environs just north of Jerusalem and towards Bayt She'an are a stark contrast to the city of Jerusalem. In the city, you get the sense that water is not in short supply given the manicured lawns in some parts of town and grassy knolls south of the city, but as I moved north, I realized that much of what I had seen in Jerusalem was far from the norm.

The area north of Jerusalem resembled the dry desert wilderness that I had seen on my trek from Errachidia to Ouarzazate, Morocco. There were many dry river beds and plains scarred by precipitation and flash floods. However, unlike Morocco where the only patches of green could be found in the lush palmeries sprouting from the river beds, the north of Jerusalem had quite a large number of vegetable and fruit plots and an acre here and there of neatly lined palm trees in the middle of the pale, sun-scorched shrubbery landscape.  There were countless greenhouses and some plots even had black or clear plastic coverings for each row of whatever was growing underneath. The highway we were on was running parallel to the Jordan River Valley and you could see more green when you looked east, but it seemed like the farmers were trying to stretch out that green as far as possible and it looked like they were using the latest in irrigation know-how to make that happen.

Even with all the technological advancements though, it appears that all the countries relying on the Jordan River Valley and Sea of Galilee are headed to another standoff, not so much about the land, but about the lack of water.  Here's a brief excerpt from an Inventory of Conflict and Environment(ICE) study from American University titled Jordan River Dispute:

The consequences of unilateral action by each riparian [countries with water sources that feed the Jordan River] has been that both the aquifers and surface waters suffer from overuse use due to the large-scale diversion projects. The National Water Carrier and the East Ghor Canal almost dry out the Sea of Galilee year round. Diversion projects have also lowered the level of both the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. This has caused aquifer levels to drop and has increased their salinity levels. Both Jordan and Israel have also over pumped their fossil (nonrenewable) aquifers. On top of these projects, the population growth in both countries is raising the demand for water. Israel has attempted water conservation in agriculture, where most water is wasted, through introducing the drip irrigation system and recycling of sewage water. This has helped save water in the area while at the same time irrigating more land with less water. It does not make much impact, though, without any joint conservation. Therefore, conflict under these circumstances is highly likely, and these depleting factors have in fact led to conflicts in the past.

 Source: http://www1.american.edu/ted/ice/westbank.htm

Sea of Galilee or Lake Tiberias from Jordan

I also read that Israel has plans to begin building settlements in the Negev Desert (Here's a short article from Newsweek calling to question David Ben Gurion's dream to see the desert bloom: http://www.newsweek.com/2008/06/28/the-myth-of-water.html). While I sympathize with many Jews and their desire to move back to the land of their forefathers, after taking that drive up and down from Bayt She'an to Jerusalem and back, I wonder whether they're even considering the environmental impact of their decision.

Israel is a leading innovator in irrigation and water management and with good reason--nearly half the country is semi-arid desert.  (Here's an achievements-filled and rather optimistic outlook titled Israeli Agriculture: Coping with Growth) They're also leading the way in building state of the art desalination plants that will hopefully supplement their unreliable and dwindling supply.

I applaud their efficiency and I think many countries should adapt some of their techniques even those that have ample supplies, but I wonder how far technology can forestall what seems like an inevitable water war much like the ones we're already experiencing in Nevada and Colorado and to some extent in Morocco between the urban and rural farming and cattle ranching communities.  At least in Morocco and in our Western states, it appears that people can still gather at the negotiating table.  For Israel and its neighbors, setting a date to meet at a table requires an entire diplomatic corps, months of wrangling about preconditions, and then, even if it is set, not all stakeholders are present.

It is presumed that when Moses spoke of a land “flowing with milk and honey” that he was gazing out towards the Jordan River Valley, and that valley is certainly a beautiful fertile oasis in the midst of an arid wilderness, but I wonder how far can that milk and honey be stretched for everyone that wishes to live out their dream of living in the Promised Land.

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Other Reads

Timeline of Water Conflicts in the Levant: http://www.nad-plo.org/nego/permanent/water/related/Howb.pdf