Riots and reality

Underneath the wave of violence in Acre lies a story of bonds of friendship and religious tolerance.

By JERUSALEM POST STAFF
Acre friends 88 224 (photo credit: Diana Bletter )
Acre friends 88 224
(photo credit: Diana Bletter )
It's not the story you'd expect to find in Acre these days. In this city in northern Israel, recently besieged by riots, the story of three men's friendship seems almost too good to be true. But it is. The three men - one Jewish, one Christian and one Muslim - form the core of Acre's 13-member municipality maintenance crew that also includes Russians, Romanians and Moroccans. The men's loyalty to one another and to their city counters the prevailing idea that the link between Jews and Arabs in this mixed city of 55,000 is fragile and only skin-deep. "We're friends who are stronger than brothers," states Hamoudi Rehawi, 48, of his relationship with Meir Turjeman, 54, the crew manager, and Maroun Bahar, 50, his fellow worker. For more than two decades, the three men, all Acre residents, have worked together maintaining the city's playgrounds and gardens, fixing roads and sidewalks, repairing street signs and pergolas and even building some of the sculptures that decorate the city. The crew members have survived the city's fiscal struggles, the riots in 2000, the Katyusha rockets that fell during the 2006 Second Lebanon War and now, the recent violence that began on Yom Kippur Eve. The riots began when an Arab man drove into a Jewish neighborhood, sparking three days of rioting and ending with more than 50 arrests, several homes destroyed six families displaced and countless cars vandalized. In an interview at the maintenance crew facility situated between the Lilly Sharon Park in Acre and the train station, the three men spoke candidly of their job and their friendship and the coexistence - however wobbly - that usually reigns in the city. "We're not used to this violence," Turjeman said. "We're used to living in peace and we're only afraid that groups from the outside - both Arabs and Jews - will come to our city to make trouble." "When one crazy man drops a rock down a well," Rehawi added, reciting an Arabic saying, "sometimes even one hundred wise men can't get it out." Yet their working relationship could serve as a role model of religious tolerance. Turjeman, a religious Jew who wears a kippa, said that during Ramadan, he and the other Jews were so careful to respect the religious beliefs of Rehawi, a religious Muslim, that they refrained from eating and drinking in front of him the whole month. And while Turjeman refrains from eating non-kosher food, he said he has gone to weddings and celebrations of the other men's families where he "drank and offered a l'chaim." Every few months, the maintenance crew workers chip in and buy food for a barbecue. "During the riots," Bahar said, "I wanted to call Meir to make sure that he and his family were all right but I knew he was fasting and he wouldn't answer the phone. As soon as Yom Kippur ended, I called him to make sure they were okay." "And I called Hamoudi to make sure he was okay," Turjeman interrupted. (During the interview, the three men often finished one another's sentences.) Then Turjeman recounted that during the riots, his four-year-old granddaughter heard the crowds shouting "Death to the Arabs" and asked, "Isn't Hamoudi sad when he hears that?" Turjeman, who could easily pass as a yeshiva high school principal rather than a maintenance crew manager, shook his head sadly. "Part of our job is cleaning up graffiti around the city," he said. "As soon as we see anything like 'Death to the Arabs' or 'Death to the Jews' we erase it immediately." "Those are kids writing those words," Rehawi interjected. "They're vandals who don't know any better." The crew was on 24-hour alert during the riots, making sure that any damage done to municipal property was repaired as soon as possible. "We want to prevent people from seeing the damage and reliving the trauma," Turjeman said, insisting that maintenance work was also part psychology. On the streets during the first night of rioting, the city divided itself into an Arab-Jewish fault line that could not be crossed. But the following day, Bahar went out to repair some damage done in a Jewish neighborhood and was surprised by the treatment he received by the residents. "Jews came out of their houses to offer me drinks and to talk to me," Bahar said. The city's maintenance facility looks like a well-organized repair shop, as well as a recycling center. Turjeman prides himself on his staff's creativity. The workers have collected discarded rusty electric pipes and reinvented them into planters to decorate the city's streets. They've fixed garbage dumpsters and worn-out playground equipment, they've built sculptures from scrap metal encouraging the city's youth (in both Hebrew and Arabic) to avoid drugs as well as a 12-foot high menorah and they fashioned an ancient-looking stone wall that welcomes visitors as they enter the Old City. One of their most special projects, they said, was helping to erect the Peace Playground in the city park on Ben Ammi Street (where some of the recent rioting occurred) in June 2006. The equipment was donated by Bonney and Ewing Philbin from California, a couple who wanted to promote peaceful coexistence in conjunction with Acre Vision, a Jewish-Arab women's peace group in the city. When the unassembled equipment for the playground arrived, Acre residents and volunteers pitched in to help the maintenance crew set up in what is called a "community-built playground." "It was a great experience to work together with both Arab and Jewish volunteers to erect that playground," Turjeman said. "It meant a lot to all of us." A month later, however, the Second Lebanon War broke out. The playground went untouched - and the maintenance crew went on call 24 hours a day. "I barely had time to shower during the war," said Bahar. "When I went home to sleep for an hour or two, I kept my work clothes on." When a Katyusha rocket fell, the crew reported immediately to the site to set up barriers, allowing rescue workers to do their job. Afterwards, the crew made the necessary repairs and in the evenings, they delivered food and emergency items to people in shelters around the city. "There aren't many other maintenance crews in cities around the world that take care of parks and gardens and also deal with repairing damage from Katyushas," Turjeman said. His manner was joking but Rehawi joined in, this time with a serious expression. "We have to learn to live together in peace," he said. "There's no other solution. If there's no peace, it's no good for anyone."