by Paula Amann

News Editor

They watch such U.S.-made TV shows as It's My Line, Isn't It? They get nervous when posing for pictures. And their dreams for the future are hopeful but vague.

Aside from that, they're unlike most Israeli teen-agers.

Ori Sonnenschein and Rami Mannaa, both 17, grew up in a laboratory. In the village of Neve Shalom/Wahat al-Salam (Oasis of Peace), founded in 1972 by a priest of Jewish descent, Jews and Arabs live side by side and send their children to the same primary school.

Sonnenschein's mother, Nava, co-directs and co-founded the community's School for Peace, which has served thousands of visitors, Jewish and Arab, youth and adult, as a center for training in conflict resolution.

The two village scions visited the District last week as part of a 10-day tour of the United States, sponsored by American Friends of Neve Shalom/Wahat al-Salam. They spoke on Friday to close to 30 people at the D.C. offices of the New Israel Fund.

If the past 14 months of Palestinian-Israeli violence has shadowed their friendship, the two don't show it. Mannaa noted "a little anger in the village toward the government" among fellow Arabs, but he insisted, their views didn't alter fundamentally.

When Mannaa argued, in an interview with WJW, that the Camp David talks of 2000 didn't yield a proposal that Palestinians could accept, Sonnenschein backed him up.

"The 96 percent we were offered was without the settlements," said the young Palestinian, suggesting that the plan would not have created a cohesive state. Palestinian Authority Yasser Arafat, he said, "couldn't go back to his people" with such a plan.

The map is like "Swiss cheese," echoed Sonnenschein, referring to the dots of Jewish settlements throughout the West Bank and Gaza.

Yet despite their mutual understanding, the life of the two youths is about to diverge.

Next fall, Sonnenschein is due to start a three-year stint in the Israeli Defense Forces, as required by law. Due to a medical condition, he will serve in a non-combat role, but he allows that he is "not happy to go to the army."

Mannaa believes it's wrong of his friend to serve at all, given their shared belief in peaceful coexistence, but he is content to live and let live.

"I have to respect his decision, because I have no choice," said the young Israeli Arab, who plans to take a year off after he finishes his senior year of high school, then head for college.

Looking back at his childhood, Sonnenschein speaks of sharing holidays and simchas with his Arab friends.

"Having Jews and Arabs at my bar mitzvah, celebrating Ramadan with neighbors -- this was all part of my daily life," he said.

Military life is likely to change all that.

Mannaa's solution to the Israeli-Palestinian impasse is more education about Arab culture for Israelis.

"The Israeli government and the Israeli people should admit they did a crime against the Palestinians and want to make it up," he argued. Then the Jewish state, he predicted, would see a 180-degree shift in public opinion among Palestinians.

Beyond the cocoon of his village, however, Rami's idealism seems less likely to win support from disillusioned Israelis and embittered Palestinians.

Sonnenschein himself favors a two-state solution and civil rights for Israeli Arabs.

"The call for separation is just because both peoples need to be in independent states," he said, adding, "On the other hand, the Palestinians in Israel shouldn't be separate; they should be equal."

As they move into adulthood, the two youths both cite respect for differences as the key lesson of their village oasis they will take with them.

"The really important thing I learned is that any time I have a conversation with a Jew I really understand where he's coming from even if I disagree -- and I have a better chance to change his mind," Mannaa said.