Words from Palestine

Today we accompanied villagers to their land the Wadi Qana valley. Our intention was to reach an area that Palestinians lived in up until 1967, when homes there were demolished by the Israeli Occupation Forces. As I have noted in previous posts, the Wadi Qana valley is the largest aquifer in the West Bank. Fresh water springs bubble up out of the ground and the many small caverns that dot the region. Traditionally the Palestinians have used this land for their olive groves, citrus trees and grazing animals. The villagers were given “permission” to access their land today, however, soldiers denied us access.
We then walked for 3 hours over the toughest terrain I have ever traversed to return to a road that was accessible to Palestinians. Tough exercise, but a beautiful, priceless experience. There were a few times when I did not think I could continue on, but of course there wasn’t a choice, and the experience was invaluable. The steep hills and valleys of the Wadi Qana are pristine.
Though this is the dry season and the wildflowers I have made a photo album and a photo slideshow of have withered away for the summer, sage, mint, carob and other edible flora are abundant.
Sadly, the entire area is being illegally expropriated by Zionist settlers and it is fast becoming a dumping ground for the sewage and trash of the illegal settlements that line the hilltops of the valley.
I have said it before but I will say it again. The settlers build their illegal colonies with fear. They know they are living on stolen land and thieves live in fear. So they surround their settlements with barbed wire electric fences, security cameras and flood lights . Though they are occupiers, they live in self made prisons. They have both the military and private security watching over them , and many carry machine guns around with them.
It is a sorrowful sickness that has pervaded this land. Quoting my husband, “ it isn’t a land of milk and honey, it a land of tears and bloodshed.”

Friday we went to the demonstration at Nabi Salih. It began as usual with a march from the village center toward the fields of the village stolen by the settlement of Hallamish. Children led the march with a banner that read “threatening to demolish our homes will not stop our resistance to the occupation.” And as usual, the military stopped us before we even made it out of the village. However, the village had choreographed a great diversion. The smaller children of the village courageously, non-violently, confronted the soldiers with anti occupation chants, singing and playing games like dodge ball in front of them. The children were just too small for even the Zionist soldiers to react against them. The soldiers looked like fools standing en masse with their machine guns against little kids playing games. The kids kept the soldiers “detained” for most of the afternoon. The soldiers would try to move away from them but the children would follow them. The children demanded the soldiers leave their village, give them back their land, end the occupation… They formed circles around groups of soldiers, holding hands and singing, “NO, NO Israel, viva Palestinia!” This went on all afternoon.

While the children toyed with the soldiers at the entrance to the village, other soldiers who had entered the village via jeeps used tear gas against unarmed civilians and activists. Later in the day, when the young children had tired out, the IDF fired a considerable amount of tear gas into the village, seeping into the homes of people who had retired from the demonstration or who had not taken part in it. Cars were backed up when the military blocked off the road leading into and out of Nabi Salih.
My team mate and I stayed in the village late into the evening as we were concerned the military would exact fierce revenge on villagers for the humiliation they faced by the young children’s peaceful tactics.

I met an young man from a western nation at the hostel I stayed in who is a Muslim. He came here for a 2 week vacation. When he arrived at Ben Gurion airport he was interrogated for 6 hours. When he wouldn’t tell them what they wanted to know (he has nothing to tell them!) he was threatened, as was his family in the UK. After hours of grilling, he was told that if he didn’t tell them why he was really here, something bad would happen to him and his family. After what happened on the flotilla, he was truly frightened. He said he was taken from one room to another, with different interrogators threatening him. He said he had never felt so powerless. He of course had no information to give them, so he as at a loss of what to do. He couldn’t get away, he couldn’t answer the questions to their satisfaction, so he was at their mercy (which is by and large nonexistent).
After the 6 hours of interrogation he was allowed into the country on a 2 week visa, one day short of his plane flight, so he had to rebook his flight. I imagine he is being watched very closely…probably why they allowed him into the country. He wants to go to Ramallah and Nablus but is now fearful to enter the West Bank. He related to me that he is constantly aware that he can be arrested at any time and has no recourse to justice.
I expressed concern for him that he may have a more difficult time leaving the country than he did coming in. He contacted his embassy and asked that they assure him “safe passage out of Israel.”
I am worried for him. He is just a kid, born and raised in a western nation, and the closest he has ever come to terrorism is at the airport in Israel. I can see the sadness and concern in his eyes. And he just came here for a vacation
If I could sum up the essence of his personality in a couple words it would be kind, compassionate and mild mannered. I say this not just because of my conversations with him, but also because of his interactions with others here at the hostel. There is a a raving Zionist with obvious mental problems staying here and this young Muslim man has spent a lot of time patiently listening to his rants, never condemning him, just listening.
I have asked him to contact me as soon as he is safe at home. I am also going to see about having an Israeli friend accompany him to the airport. Perhaps that will give him a measure of safety. Oh the sadness that prevails in this land.

I returned to Palestine several days ago. I was held at the airport for about an hour and was refused the standard 3 month visa, but was given a one month visa and will apply for an extension. I am still in the Old City of Occupied East Jerusalem, waiting for my team mate to arrive and we will make our way to our village.

There is much talk of impending war. As I have not been out of the old city I can only relate what I am hearing on the street here. People believe there will be a war this summer.
The Israeli Occupation Forces are confiscating Palestinian Identification cards. It is difficult to explain how serious this is. In the United States, if you lose your ID you just get a new one. Here, if you lose your ID you might never get a new one, and if you do it could take, literally, years. If you are stopped without an ID- and if you are a young male you WILL be stopped, you go to prison or are deported to Gaza or Jordon, without your belongings, without your family even knowing what has happened to you.

Equally disturbing, the Occupation Forces began war game exercises in the villages of the West Bank this week. Their reasoning: they believe the settlers are going to rise up against the Palestinians and the Palestinians will respond with terrorism. Consider the terminology here. The settlers, illegally occupying Palestinian land, are going to “rise up” and the Palestinians, who have nothing except rocks and courage for justice to defend themselves, are going to respond with “terrorism.”

One man whom I spoke with asked me why Americans are allowing their tax dollars to be spent on Israel’s illegal occupation “Why, why,” he said, “so much money given to Israel which uses it to oppress and kill us. Tell me why”
And I am standing on his land, with all the privileges afforded my American passport, privileges he is denied in his own land, and I have no answer.

International Human Rights Volunteers Needed in Palestine
The International Women¹s Peace Service (IWPS) is a team of international female human-rights volunteers in Palestine who provide accompaniment to Palestinian civilians (including farmers during the annual olive harvest), document and non-violently intervene in human-rights abuses and support acts of non-violent resistance to end the Israeli military occupation and construction of the barrier throughout the West Bank.
IWPS is currently inviting applications from women who would like to join our team of long-term volunteers.
Successful applicants will be invited to a 9 day training program and meeting in Portugal (Sept 11th- 19th, 2010) and will serve a minimum of one 3 month term in the West Bank, Palestine, as well as supporting our work outside of Palestine.
Applicants should be able to commit to further terms in Palestine of one to three months in their 2nd and 3rd year of commitment to IWPS.
Short term volunteers are also welcome to apply (applyiwps@gmail. com) for minimum volunteer periods of 3 weeks
For more information about IWPS and our activities please see our website www.iwps.info (please note our website is currently being upgraded)
If you would like more information and/or would like to receive an application pack please contact us at applyiwps@gmail. com
Deadline for applications 31st July 2010

I spent more than several Fridays at An Nabi Salih’s weekly demonstration against the confiscation of their land. Slept there along with other internationals to avoid the morning military blockade. Nabi Salih is a nice place to wake up in. It is a small village and their mornings are quiet. Though the illegal settlement of Hallamish is the new view from the village, the beauty of the Palestinian land remains under the occupiers houses.
Nabi Salih wakes up slowly on Friday mornings. There is time to be alone and absorb the contrast between early Friday morning and early Friday afternoon. The mornings begin, slowly, quietly, peaceably. By early afternoon soldiers will be firing rubber bullets at innocent civilians from the rooftops of villager’s homes and inundating homes filled with women and children with tear gas and other noxious gases.
The children get up slowly in Nabi Salih too. Still in their nightclothes, they share out pieces of zartra bread with their cousins up and down the street and play in one another’s courtyard. People start fixing breakfasts. Some cook substantial, esp. if they are hosting internationals, others put out a simpler spread. Either way, everyone visists one another and shares the various meals. Hot tea and coffee in abundance. Peacful. Quiet. Slow.

By the time breakfast is cleared away the soldiers are visible. Sometimes they watch us from 50 feet away while we have a last bit of food before meeting in the village center for the beginning of the demonstration. Families will have decided where the safest place is for their young children and an exchange of children between those participating in the demonstration and those who will care for the little ones casually takes place. Tragically, there is no safe house in An Nabi Salih anymore. The IDF targets homes filled with only women and children, breaking the windows by firing high velicity tear gas canisters through them, then spraying inside with chemically treated sewer water. But your home doesn’t have to be directly targeted for you and your children to be harshly impacted by the firepower used during the unarmed Palestinian demonstration. Every home is, at the end of the afternoon, filled with the smell of tear gas and sewage. The children walk around with onions to hold over their noses so as not to faint from the gas. They wear masks soaked in perfume and carry little bottles around with them to spray on someone’s scarf who is overcome by tear gas.

Then the demonstration winds its way down. Those overcome by fumes are usually treated on the scene though two women and a child required hospitalization a couple of weeks ago. The injured in the hospital need to be checked up on as well as those arrested. On a good day injuries are minimal and there are no arrests. On a bad day a child hit in the head with a rubber bullet is on life support and fathers and mothers are taken into Israeli custody.
But even on a good day, the children of An Nabi Salih are subjected to a weekly war against their village’s right to exist. They cannot escape the tear gas. They cannot escape the sound bombs. They cannot escape the rubber bullets or shards of window glass that fly with them. And they cannot escape the show of violence played out by the IDF every Friday against themselves and the people they love.

I have a backlog of writings, but I am leaving for home today and wish to share at least a couple of experiences I have had in the past 24 hours.
First of all, as I was walking around the souk last night…on my last night here in the Old City, and many shopkeepers remember me because I always wear my “I love Palestine T-shirt. It means so much to them that there are Westerners who stand in solidarity with them. The kindly offered me small gifts and asked to drink coffee with them an chat a bit. It was noce to feel accepted in a land my government pay so many dollars to oppress.
Then this morning, 13 year old Mohammed who works here at the hostel where I have been staying, movined me deeply. I have too much luggage to handle on my own and it is a long walk to here I catch the bus to the airport.
So I asked Mohammed if he would help me with my luggage this evening. “Of course,” he said. I then told him I woud pay him for his help. He assured me that was not necessary. I countered that of course he ought to be paid for his labor. Thirteen year old Mohammed said, “No, you are a friend of my country. Money is not so important. Loving your country is more important.” As I left the hostel to take a last look around the old city, I had to fight back the good tears this good young man brought to me by his kindness and humanity.

On Wednesday night the IOF came into our village (Deir Istiya) and arrested 5 young men, one of them only 16 years old. They came in the dead of the night, when all the village was sleeping. Though there were as many as 70 soldiers, most neighbors (including us) were not woken as the military crept quietly into the village. It is now Saturday night and though we and the families have spent hours on the phone attempting to find out where these young men are being held and what the reasons for their arrests are, we have been unable to find out anything.
One of the young men arrested was from a house we had recently visited when given a tour of the Deir Istiya’s old city. The home is from the Ottoman period, with arched doorways made of stone, ornate wooden doors and beautiful tiled floors. The family raises pigeons and rabbits, as well as creating pebble mosaics. We visited the mother today, who is in a state of extreme distress over the disappearance of her son. It is not common for Palestinians to show intense emotion publicly but she cried over her son’s arrest.
What struck me the hardest was the peaceful environment in which the family lives, and the desecration of the soldiers with their machine guns and hatred (born of irrational fear) forcing their way into this home and taking away a young family member for not reason.
After talking a bit the mother asked me if I would like to see her pidgeons. I declined as I had already saw then during our tour. However, I was told that it would make her feel better and take her mind off her son for awhile to show me again the birds, so I gladly accepted. Their family raises several types, each from different parts of the world. Then she showed me her rabbits…. They are such gentle creatures, and again I was struck by the contrast between these gentle, innocent people and the military who forced their way into their serene environment and took their son away.

Later in the day another mother, whom we have shared a lot of time with since being here in Deir Istiya, came to ask if we had heard anything about her son whi was also arrested that night. . It was very difficult to tell her that we were not able to find out anything as of yet. And the truth is we know from experience that it may be months before the families will know of their son’s whereabouts or of their physical and emotional condition.
After talking for awhile, the mother said she was baking khubis (bread) in the Tuban (traditional oven) and asked us to visit with her. So we changed gears from international activists to neighbors and joined her family to eat hot bread from the oven with olive oil, zartra and fresh vegetables. Many neighbors came to visit and amidst the sadness and suffering there was a degree of happiness because people were gathering to support the family and take their mind off what had happened to them several nights ago.

On Thursday afternoon we traveled to the village of Bil’in to catch the end of the international conference of activists. Attended by Palestinian political groups and grassroots organizations, and people from around the world who are in solidarity with Palestinians and do much work in their home countries to end the illegal Israeli occupation, the conference lasted 3 days. Hundreds of people were present, all hosted by families in the village. unfortunately about half the people scheduled were unable to attend because of the closure of airports in Europe.
We had an invitation to stay with Bassim and Khamil, a warm welcoming couple with 4 children. There were also group of French and German activists staying with them so they had a full house. Khamil does traditional Palestinian needlework and as the family, though poor, refused to take money for our stay everyone purchased some of her beautiful handicrafts.
Bassim did have a few thousand olive trees that his family made their income from but their land was confiscated and all his tree burned down to make way for settlement building.
As is almost always the case the family had a horror story to tell of recent IOF activities. Two nights prior the IOF knocked down their door in the middle of the night demanding to know where Bassim’s brother was. Bassim did not know where is younger brother was so could not answer. Bassim said the soldiers were yelling loudly and frightening the children. When the noise woke up the 3 year, old Hamoudi, a soldier trained a machine gun to his head. It frightened him so badly he did not speak for 3 days.
He seems to be ok now. He was very happy to have so many people to visit with and he forgot to be afraid for the time being. But the experience will no doubt leave a mark on him.
After visiting for some time with Bassim we went for a walk through the village and visited a family who has been friends with IWPS for a long time. Um Haddith and her family were very happy to see some of the IWPS team again and somewhat perturbed that we were not spending the night with them! Our visit was short (though not without tea and a light dinner) and I only mention it to say that one of her son’s had just been released from prison. I have not met a family yet that has not had an immediate family member in an Israeli prison. I might have said this in a previous blog, but I believe it bears repeating, again and again…. I have been here for 4 months and I have met ONE (1) man who has not been in an Israeli prison. I have met hundreds of people, and one man who has not spent time in prison.
Friday we attended the weekly demonstration against the wall in Bil’in. I thought with so many internationals present there would be a lesser degree of violence on the part of the IOF. However, that was not the case. Again and again our unarmed demonstration was met with high velocity tear gas canisters. The IOF was not firing the cansters above our heads as is the “policy.” Rather, they were firing them at head level. One jounalist was hit in the forehead and has a fractured skull. Several others received less serious injuries from the cansiters. Many suffered tear gas inhalation that caused respitory problems. Several activists were detained by the military for no reason.
I can say clearly that these detentions were for no reason because one of the women arrested was a team mate. The demonstration had ended at the time of the arrest. We were walking away, but were at the end of the line, making sure there were no Palestinians left behind to be arrested by the soldiers. The soldiers simply grabbed her because she was available.
We kept in touch with her during her detention via text messaging and a phone call. She assured us she was OK and said her message was this: “I am sittin up on this hill (at the military post) and all I can think about are the Palestinians who are arrested and beaten and tortured, they have no contact with their familes and their families do not know what has become of them.” Then she said she had to go less she would start crying, and that wouldn’t be very militant!”

On Sunday evening a siren, distant yet disconcerting, became a backdrop for the normal sounds of village life. Though I had to assume the siren wasn’t good news-perhaps a raid on the village, the sounds of children playing and people talking around our house didn’t diminish and as I was in bed sick I didn’t make inquiries. I was doing some research on Jewish Independence Day and when I googled it I saw a news flash that the sirens were a commemoration of the soldiers and civilians who have died stealing Palestinian land. (that isn’t exactly how the google worded it, but I would like to speak about the facts rather the fictitious narrative of Israel.
From sundown Sunday until sundown Monday, Israel has mourned the 26,653 Israelis killed in the past 150 years. These are interesting figures if one is talking about soldiers who have died in the wars for the state of Israel, created just 62 years ago. I can’t find a reason why the death toll goes back 150 years. Prior to 1948, the Jews who lived in the region identified themselves as Arab Jews, or Palestinian Jews. But in the fictitious narrative of the state of Israel, Palestinians don’t exist and Arab Jews are one of the lowest echelons of Israeli society. I guess 26, 653 dead sounds more enthralling than the more realistic figure of less than 10,000 who have died in wars since the UN partition of Palestine in 1948. (here Israel could have learned a lesson from the United States who has laid waste to two nations and killed upwards of a million people under the guise of 9/11, where less than 3000 were killed.)
This is not meant to belittle the death of a single person. Indeed, every single individual death accounted to war makes a mockery of what it means to be human. Yet, to use those deaths to invent a false national identity that rationalizes the imprisonment of innocent Palestinians, the killing of innocent Palestinians, the demolitions of Palestinian homes and businesses, the dehumanizing of Palestinians, the theft of Palestinian land and the occupation of their nation is also a mockery of what it means to be human.
Last night the mourning period for Israel was over. I knew because I heard the distant yet disconcerting sound of fireworks over the normal sounds of village life around our house. So begins Israel’s independence day, or, if you are a Palestinian, the commencement of Israel’s occupation of Palestine.
Palestine commemorates the beginning of the occupation (al Nakba-the Great Catastrophe) on May 15. However, there is a move in the Knesset (Israel’s parliament) to outlaw any commemoration of al Nakba.
It doesn’t fit in well with Israel’s fictitious national identity.