Fragments

After some days of silence, I am back on my blogging schedule forced by an overload of observations that are hanging out inside my brain randomly, and making my effort to ‘rationalize’ is almost painful. Experiences are made firstly through our senses and then processed as a mental exercise. It is on these senses, and on my feelings that I would like to start this brainstorming session today. In this blog entry, organization is something you should not expect- just to make things clear-. Instead, I will write a series of mental pictures.

- On Wednesday, as I was walking back from my lesson in the late afternoon I realized that I was simply ‘walking it out’. I was completely by myself walking on a one of the ridiculously steep streets of Nablus, and I was in a state of total euphoria. The sun had just stopped being unbearable, the city had its usual sober vivacity, and I had just finished a long day working in Askar. Yet, nothing in particular had happened and it was one of these average days in which you feel you do have a routine and it makes you feel safe. While I was in the middle of my euphoria, a man starts following me from the back and when I turn he almost screams ‘your cell phone!’. I know I met the guy before, but my head cannot connect. I look at him confused and say ‘what about it?’. Turns out that he works in the cell phone shop where I left, and forgot, my broken phone to see if I could retrieve my numbers. Inside the shop he gives me my old phone and tells me that I should go with a flash drive to pick up my numbers that are on the computers. I thank him and ask how much I own him. Nothing- I own him nothing, he insists, because it did not cost him money to do me the favor. I am back on the street, and walk to another office where I am giving Italian lessons to a colleague’s friend. I enter the office and he offers me tea. We talk about his interest for Italian and have a one hour lesson. He is very focused and eager to learn. After my lesson we have a chat and I leave. Of course, no money involved. Today, I have another lesson with my Italian student. He invites me for a super nice lunch that we eat at his office but that was cooked by his mother.- I never realized how good it feels to exchange things other than money-

- The conversations that I have been having with people about the process of exiting Israel through Tel Aviv make particularly anxious – (to be continued …)I am seriously concerned, and also seriously worried about getting in trouble with Israel for volunteering in the West Bank. At the same time I find my anxiousness pathetic. I have a Western passport and an embassy that would support me. My imagination can hardly hint to comprehend the sense of powerless and restless that Palestinians experience.

- For a nice break from the simplicity of Nablus’s life, the other volunteers and I decided to spend a mundane night in Ramallah. With the check points opened, Ramallah is a scarce hour away from Nablus; however, the difference between the two cities is striking. The awareness of being constantly checked out on the streets fades away and Ramallah feels more metropolitan, hectic and open. Ramallah has been a ‘base' through the past decades for many of the western activists, journalists and politicians working in the West Bank. Ironically, their presence shaped the city so greatly that Ramallah hardly feels like the rest of the West Bank.
We went out to a beer festival, which was basically a party which included beer, disco light, super western music and a bunch of people dancing around.

- On Friday, one of my palestinian colleagues (Y) invited me to take a little tour around Nablus. It was a simple day, which turned out to be one of my favourites. Y. and his cousin came to pick me up and we ended up having a drink on a little natural riot. The owner of a little coffee shop placed some chairs and table on the water and the location became one of the locals' favorites. We spent the afternoon talking about the Islam. Personally, I feel so detached from organized religion in this period of my life that listening to their interpretation and to the strenght of their belief made me feel confused, as if there was something I could not appreciate in the order of things. While we talk about the balance between good and bad actions that will place individuals into heaven, a bee is flothing around my glass of coke and Y's cousin, noticing that I am bothered kills the bee. I make some reference about Karma, and I start getting questions about my beliefs that up to that point I have not discussed. I answer that I simply try to do my best to be respectful to people around me and that I do 'pray to god', but I am not interested in his name. I guess I would not mind calling it Allah, or Dio. They are confused, but they explain to me how Islam respects all religions.

Storie

Questa e' una delle tante storie che mi capita di sentire in questo periodo che sento di dover condividere.

Questa e' una parte della storia che mi ha raccontato il mio studente di italiano, B. (25 anni), durante la nostra lezione. Questo ragazzo insegna ai bambini del circo di Nablus. Durante questa conversazione eravamo solo in due in un ufficio.

B: Crescendo, camminavamo per la strada in 30. Ero circondato da amici. Poi e' iniziata l'intifada. Uno viene ucciso, l'atro va in galera. Mi sono ritrovato un giorno a camminare per la strada, ed ero solo. Ho perso la speranza. Mi chiedo: 'Perche' io sono ancora vivo? Qual'e' il punto?'
Poi tanto, se perdo la speranza io non importa a nessuno.
Poi ho iniziato a lavorare con il circo ed ho trovato il mio modo per combattere l'occupazione. Il sorriso e' un'arma molto forte.

(silenzio per circa un minuto)

Una sera, ho sentito una bomba. Sembrava vicino la casa di mio cugino. Lo chiamo ma non risponde.
Allora chiamo il vicino. Lui risponde. Chiedo: 'Dov'e' M.' Lui mi dice 'hai sentito la bomba? M. e' morto.' ed attacca il telefono. Io rimango cosi'...

(silenzio)

Poi sono andato all'ospedale per vedere il corpo. Era nella cella frigorifera (??) e quando apro lo vedo. Non c'e' piu' la testa. Chiudo subito.
Non perche' ho paura, non perche' mi fa impressione.
Solo perche' voglio ricordare la bella faccia di mio cugino.

(silenzio)

Portavo sempre al collo la sua foto.

(pausa)

Un girno volevo mostrare il villaggio dei samaritani a due amici francesi. Io vivo 5 minuti a piedi dal check point. quando ero piccolo andavo sempre a giocare li, e' un passeggiata brevissima.
Quel giorno arrivo al check point e i soldati mi chiedono i documeti. Io spiego che voglio solo mostrare il villaggio ai miei amici. Lui vede la foto di mio cugino, mi prende e mi tira su e chiede, in ebraico, chi cazzo e' questo. Mio cugino, dico io. E' perche' hai la foto?. perche' e' morto, rispondo. Il soldato chiede: com'e' morto?
Lo avete ucciso voi, dico io.
Era un terrorista, risponde.
No, era mio cugino, dico io.

(Pausa)

il soldato mi dice: non me ne fraga un cazzo, fatti rivedere qui e ti sparo in fronte.
Non sono piu' tornato li'.

New Peace

Article on the resent peace developments from the New York Times

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/20/world/middleeast/20israel.html?_r=1&hp

Israel’s Religious Right and the Question of Settlements
Middle East Report N°89
International Crisis Group

http://www.crisisgroup.org/home/index.cfm?id=6228&l=1

Much more than the biggest knafeh in the world.

Today is a very special day in Nablus. 'the most amazing day in Nablus in seven years' to say it with the words that many have used to describe the proportion of the event to me.

Officially, today Nablus is celebrating a record for the Guinness Book with the realization of the biggest Knafeh, a very popular local sweet cheese. An association of local bakers produce a batch of 74x1 m Knafeh. (!!!) The celebration, however, had a deeper undertone. At least three people have explained to me, with similar vocab and attitude, that in Nablus, celebrating in the street has not been possible for a long time, basically since the outbreak of the second Intifada which got heated in Nablus in 2000. My most reliable source when trying understand how people see their situation is repetition. A couple of sentences have been told to me almost exactly in the same form by numerous people. Hearing more than a couple of times the same powerful statement hinted to me that a certain view is shared by many. In my top list of common sentences there is 'We can expect the Israeli army to invade at any time', and 'life is not easy here, but we try to live a normal life, we have to live normal lives'.

The contrast between occupation and normal life creates a strange atmosphere. Palestinians in Nablus are extremelly proud of their culture and their city but there is a sense that many things are just not possible. The occupation is felt in crucial aspects of every day life. For example, a friend was explaining to me how his dad works with wood and just purchased a new machine from China. They are terrified that the machine will not be allow passed the check points, resulting in the loss of a very large investment. He added 'if they don't let it in for some reasons, there is nothing much we can do about it'. Before the Intifada, Nablus used to be the economic center of the West Bank and the beauty and potential of the city gives hope that Nablus might strengthen its position in the future.

Today represented pride and hope for Nablus. The city was in spot light in the the international media and to palestinians in Israel, the rest of the West Bank and in Gaza. Most importantly, the celebration was simply for the the citizen of Nablus themselves.
Together with the other volunteers of PH, I saw the eating of the biggest knafeh from a VIP position: the fourth floor of a mall right above the Knafeh's exposition. The city was packed with people, and highly controlled by soldiers that could be seen right and left with huge guns. The big guns, which I always find extremely intimidating, did not disrupt the enthusiasm. After the prime minister Salam Fayyad himself opened the event, hundred of people were eating Knafeh while thousands filled the streets.

What I had initially imagined a simple street festival, in a city where up to two years ago curfew was mandatory and where people still remember very clearly what it is like to leave inside a house for weeks and weeks, became 'the most amazing day in Nablus'. And it was indeed amazing, I must say.

Hebron. The Unending Siege.

06/12/09 7:36 pm Nablus, Palestine

Last weekend Gioel and I, along with a small group of other volunteers here at Project Hope took a day tour to the city of Hebron in southern Palestine with a Palestinian tour guide. The tour was part of the “Breaking the Silence” tours, meant to show the travesties that the Palestinian people face due to the Israeli occupation; a first hand view, the images that they won’t show you on the nightly news. I think that it is the most important thing that we have seen in our time here, yet it has taken me sometime to figure out how to put it into words.

Hebron is a city under siege. The city has always had great significance to Jews, Christians, and Muslims. It is called “The City of the Patriarchs,” the place of Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, and Jacob. Their cenotaphs are now located inside the Ibrahimi Mosque in the old city center. Problems began here when a group of Jewish residents were massacred in the market in ‘29. After the ’67 war, the Jewish settlers began returning to Hebron, bringing with them an attitude of militant solidarity. One way or another, they would colonize this city. Currently there is a population of about 400 Jewish settlers inhabiting the old city center at the expense of the previous Palestinian residents.

It works like this: the settlers slowly bought out those Palestinians that would sell. Those that wouldn’t they used force and intimidation to force out. They came in the night, moved in and took over. Naturally, the IDF followed to secure the safety of the settlers. As if they are the ones needing protection. The army cut the city in half, closing the main road and therefore markets to allow safe accuse for the settlers to their housing in the city center. The Israelis also took over the mosque, turning half of it into a synagogue. It’s not even that the Israelis want to be there either. They’re supported by the government who provides to most hardcore and fanatical of the settlers with stipends and incentives to live in Hebron in two-year shifts, replacing families leaving with new immigrants in order to maintain the 400 population. It’s like a game to them.

But lets be fair here. The Arab residents haven’t exactly been saints either. There have been attacks from both sides resulting in deaths and injuries of many. That said, the settlers are hardly innocent: heavily armed and filled with a fanatical militarism, they take the law into their own hands. We visited the home of a Palestinian family that is the last hold out on a now Jewish block. The settlers have attacked their family, throwing rocks, abducting children for periods of time, and even firebombing the house. The soldiers use the Palestinian rooftop water tanks in the Old City as target practice, forcing the Palestinian residents to walk across the city to carry their water back. Below the settlers houses the Palestinian market streets still exist. The shop owners had to construct makeshift nets and fencing above the street to protect from garbage, stones, bricks, bombs, even feces thrown down from the settlers above. This improvised ‘ammunition’ piles up on the nets, rotting above the heads of the Palestinians below. The sight and smell almost made me sick.

I understand that I am only seeing one side of the story here. Yes, there have been terrible acts from the Palestinians as well in the struggle, but what I have witnessed here really makes it hard to imagine that the Israelis can come up with a good, logical, ethical reason for their actions. The problem with Hebron is that I really want to stay impartial in this conflict. I really want to feel, to think that there is another side to this. Well, there is another side of course. But a meaningful side. An actual reason for them to do this. Of course I speak of the Israelis when I speak of ‘them.’ I want to know, to maybe understand why they would do something like this, but when you go there, when you see it first hand all you can feel, all you can think, is the pain, the hurt, the suffering… the desperation that the Palestinians feel. It is tangible. You can feel it in the streets, in the air around you. When you walk through a checkpoint in the old city center, just to get to the great Mosque for prayers, you see the hatred, the fear.

Nablus – A City of Action [Some More Thoughts on the City]

06/12/09 2:30 pm Nablus, Palestine

Nablus is the most important city, outside of al-Quds (Jerusalem), in Palestine. The city is a large, vibrant urban spread of dense urban blocks, welcoming green space, and breathtaking hillside panoramas. But most importantly, Nablus is a modern, functioning, living city.

Nablus, a city of about 134,000 inhabitants is a center of Palestinian culture, industry, and identity. An ancient city, also home to the Jewish Samaritans and Christians alike, Nablus was at the center of the second Intifada. As a launch pad for rockets and resistance fighters, Nablus felt the full crackdown from the Israeli Defense Force, cut off by checkpoints, host to a military occupation of the city center and nightly security raids in the refugee camps. Through all this, however, Nablus has survived and carried on. Today, one must almost look for the signs of the previous struggles, as the vibrant pulse of the cities energy is the first thing noticed on the step out of the taxi.

The people are a friendly and hospitable people, always excited to practice their English and invite visitors to sample their exotic flavors or view their beautiful wares. Nablus is known for its olive oil soap industry as well as a special sweet made from cheese call kanafeh. But anything else can be found in the Nablus markets as well: clothes, toys, candy, meat, spices, electronics, and furniture; anything you desire. Walking through the markets is a festival for the senses.

Everywhere, colors, smells, sights, sounds. Some familiar, some shockingly new, some repackaged but you know the game. I found the markets of Nablus strangely representative of Palestine as a whole, a place of extreme constrasts. Oddly new, yet comfortably traditional; at one time frighteningly intimidating yet wonderfully accommodating. A place of beauty and extreme desolation, but always the place of a great People.

Workshops and Random Reflections

The first workshop with the younger group at Askar was very intense and I have to admit that for some moments today I have felt very lost. Our first group was a mixed group of super enthusiastic 9 year olds ...23 of them. Our classroom turned into a battleground for two hours. The energy that these children have is explosive and trying to catalyze it in activities can be tough. They were all very interested in me and Erik as if we were some sort of scientific experiment. We were literally 'under observation' all day.

To begin, we asked all the students to come look inside my bag and describe something good about what they saw. Inside the bag was a mirror, and they ended up telling something good about themselves. This was a good way for them to introduce themselves and for us to understand what they value. The most quoted qualities by far were being 'honest', 'strong' and 'a good friend'. Afterwards we played games in which sentences or words had to be expressed to others using gestures, drawings and miming. Yaz, our local translator did a very wonderful job helping us and at the end we were able to pull off a fun lesson focused on communication while teaching a great deal of vocab and pushing the children to express themselves in English.

Our second group was a group of ten thirteen year old boys. They were very smart and full of energy and working with them was easier because they were and more manageable [ed. note: please consider this the opinion of Gioel, though they were wonderful boys, their managability is debatale, -Erik]. I was amazed by how communicative they were despite the poor use of English and I felt that by the end of the lesson we had established a good bond.

On Wednesdays, the local and international volunteers at Project hope try to get together for a common dinner in the office and some sort of fun activity. Tonight we had a speaker from the local university coming to speak to us about the political situation in the West Bank. The reoccurring theme is the need for patience. The list of issues to be addressed are many and involve most importantly the refugee status and the future of the Israeli settlement. Freedom of movement, is probably the quintessential discussion theme of our days in Nablus. The theme comes up constantly in discussions with the local volunteers.

Palestinians are not allow to be 'tourists' and applying for visas is very hard. The first obstacle is one that we would hardly think of in Europe or in the US: reaching the embassy. In fact, Palestinians in the West Bank have to apply for permits just to go apply to a foreign embassy. Many of the local volunteers we interact with have been in contact with people from all over the world and are very open minded; still they see visiting their friend like as dream. Our Palestinian friend F. just came back from Europe. He was refused a visa many times and had to prove to have 20.000 euro in his bank account, which off course not many people can do. The most frustrating situation is being refused a permit to go to Jerusalem. For example, in order to obtain a Shengen visa, Palestinian need to receive invitation from more than one country and F. in fact obtained one from Germany, one from Italy and one from France.

How to fight the occupation? Tonight we watched the preview of a documentary that portrays a constructive response. The movie dealt with Palestinian Hip Hop as a form of fight and way to get the aggression in artistic form. The documentary followed Palestinian Hip Hop groups in both Gaza, Israel and West Bank highlighting how the artists on the two sides of the Palestinian Territories have trouble contacting each other. In fact, despite the relative small distance, Gaza from the West Bank seems very far away and many people living in Nablus have not seen Jerusalem which is 69 Km away. Check points are an obstacle that is real, concrete and powerful on many levels.