Sweet Water

The consistent wind is the only relief from the hot furnace of the day

    The question of fresh water, also known as 'sweet water' in Israel, has become my ticket into the lives of many people around me and the lens through which I view their personal stories of passion, fear, hatred, love, exhaustion & hope.  I recently traveled to a small village outside of Jericho, one of the world's oldest cities, to hear personal stories & see how steps towards peace and sustainability could be made through water.

    It has become increasingly evident that the government (on both sides)  has continued to foster distrust and obstructed many of the possibilities for cooperation as they are caught up in conflict and inaction.  However, where governments are failing, civil-society is standing up to give a voice to the degrading environment and the social stress that is deeply rooted in the health of the natural world around them.  The water scarcity issues are inherently transboundary and as civil-society comes to the forefront, cooperation is emerging and sustainable solutions are giving hope.

    One of the groups that has survived the test of time and conflict in the area is Friends of the Earth Middle East (FOEME).  FOEME remains one of the only joint Israeli-Palestinian organizations engaged in transboundary water issues.  'Joint' is the key word here - for it is extremely uncommon!  In order to work with one another you have to recognize the existence of the 'other'.  In most cases, even seemingly contemporary and sincere environmental and social NGO's refuse to work jointly - with the perspective that they are not against the other side but not exactly for the other side either.
    So, knowing a bit of background on FOEME I decided to seek out a way to connect with them and see how they overcome tense political agendas with environmental education and transboundary cooperation. Long story short, I decided the best introduction for me would be to visit one of their new 'Eco-Centers' that was located in Auja, just north of Jericho (also known as West Bank's 'Area B').
    Myself and two friends (Dan & Eric) arrived to Auja in the heat of the day (which meant between 8am and 5pm here); dripping in sweat we were warmly greeted by the contacts I had made at the center and then told nothing could be done/discussed until  it cooled down - which was fine by me as a siesta was calling my name.

Auja Eco-Center

    As the sun was beginning to set we were first given a tour of the Eco-Center grounds.  The area was colorfully decorated with recycled tires to form pathways, lounging areas, and a playground.  The best part about the center was its grey-water system which was made up of a series of open plastic containers filled with an assortment of rocks, plants and sand of which the water from the center (from showers, kitchen/bathroom sinks etc) is filtered through and then used to water the small gardens.

Grey-water system

     After the center tour, our guide Mohanned led us through the neighborhoods and into the surrounding farmland.  It was a treat to have Mohanned because he had grown up in Auja (a small village of around 5,000) and knew pretty much everyone.  He has 15 siblings and over 60 cousins in Auja so not only did he know everyone - almost everyone we met was his cousin, so every story he told was a personal family story.  
    I will try and sum up the water situation in Auja as brief as possible from the perspective given to us by those that live there.  Auja is located in the Jordan Valley which was once known for being full of springs and very fertile. Mohanned reflected on his time growing up when the fields were full of banana trees and date palms - a bountiful time for the Jordan Valley.   Unfortunately the picture now is the extreme opposite with no water in sight and only dust in the fields.  The lack of water can be primarily attributed to two factors - 1. An extended drought period & 2. The water usage of recently established Jewish settlements. 
    The primary water source for Auja is the groundwater which provides flow for local wells and springs.  Surface water is pretty much nonexistent because the Palestinians have been denied access to the Jordan River (about 4 km away) since 1967. Although it should also be noted that even if there was access to the Jordan river, it would not sufficiently provide for the communities needs because it is more of a toxic stream - having lost more than 90% of its normal flow in the last five decades it has been used and abused. *side note* The river is fenced off so you can't even see it on the Palestinian side.  One man was telling us about his family's land that used to be along the shore of the Jordan River & now he says the only way he can see it is through 'google earth'!
    The main spring that supplied the community was Auja spring.  The spring was the lifeline of the entire community as the canals from the spring brought water for agriculture and everyday usage.  The community has not seen water from the spring in two years and today the empty canals are filled with trash and are a heartbreaking reminder of days past.

Auja spring canal

     There are three Jewish settlements around Auja - with their green yards and plentiful fields they are in sharp contrast to the surrounding dry village.  The settlements are allowed to utilize the groundwater unconstrained and have drilled several very deep wells, sufficiently dropping the water table.  On the other hand, the Palestinians are not allowed to drill new wells or rehabilitate old ones without permits from the Israel Authority (which seem to be seldom given).  There are about seven wells that are left to service the entire Auja community and its agriculture.  These wells are mostly privately owned and are restricted in use (the Israel Authority comes once a month to check the status of the well - if they think too much water has been withdrawn then they will decommission the well).  On top of this - many of the wells are being over-exploited and are suffering from saltwater intrusion. 

One of the remaining private wells in Auja

A decommissioned well next to a dry canal

    At the end of the day, most families have to purchase their water from tankers and resort to buying bottled water for drinking - both of which can be up to 8 times the cost of the groundwater.  Also, without water the people in the community have lost their agricultural livelihoods & without additional work skills they have no choice but to work for the settlements at very low wages. One man we spoke to had to give up his family farm and work on a settlers farm instead - he looked physically and emotionally exhausted as he spoke of the settler's safe haven of swimming pools and running irrigation - his voice still echoes in his statement, "How did I become a second class citizen on my own land?".....
       I don't fully understand both sides of the situation, nor will I ever - but I can say that I do strongly oppose the settlements. *I will leave it at that for now*

An abandoned field - the plastic remains were a last effort to capture the remaining soil moisture - 

Now the plastic only litters the dry landscape

    On a positive note, the signs of the Eco-centers existence were shining through the dusty haze of the village as Mohhaned pointed out places where they had helped install grey-water systems, solar energy and rain-catchment systems into the community.  Instead of throwing their hands up to the sky in vain and dwelling on the tense political situation, FOEME has taken bold steps towards the realities of the water scarcity situation by encouraging saving, reusing and sustainable water practices within the community.  
   I felt heartbroken and a bit enraged observing the Auja water situation and knowing it was only one of many stories.  But, it is only a waste of time to place blame - even if the injustice is palpable. For the communities that seem powerless, the power lies within their ability to innovate and deal with existing conditions - working in the present to meet the future.

Lounging on one of the center's recycled benches