I've done it again - forgotten to paste the story. My
apologies. Helen
Sunday 22 December
The Jenin story. I left Aida Camp at 8 a.m. under
curfew and rain. Its always an adventure, since you
never know what will happen. I walked the long, lonely
road to Beit Jala to try to find a way of getting out.
The exit point from Beit Jala is at the top of the
hill, known as Everest. It is well-named! Again I was
lucky. A car passed me, stopped and came back, and I
was offered a ride to Everest. Over the muddy earthen
mound to join a small group of people huddled together
under the rain. No sign of any transport. Eventually
some of the people got a ride with a friend and I was
left with a crippled boy. We were given a ride down to
the main road, he went off in another direction and
and I stood by the side of the road alone looking at
the Israeli cars pass by, full of well-dressed people
who I suspect have no idea of what lies just a few
hundred metres away. I felt defeated I would have to
return to Aida and give up on the idea of getting to
Jenin. But something always happens, and a Palestinian
came and stood nearby who was able to flag down a
Palestinian taxi and we set off to Jerusalem. The
first checkpoint had a smiling, courteous soldier who
made an effort to be polite to the Palestinians and
who said to me: What do you think of this mess? One
day Id like to go to Australia and get away from all
this. Hes the first soldier Ive encountered who
seemed humane. I think he was from Russia.
I toured the back streets of Jerusalem while the taxi
driver made several errands and then went on to Ram
junction the other side of Jerusalem. I walked through
one more checkpoint there without problems and
continued to Kalandia checkpoint at Ramallah. Here I
joined Lori and we got a minibus with other people to
Jenin. Although Jenin is directly north of Ramallah,
the Palestinians must make a long detour east towards
Jericho, then north, then back west. The landscape is
quite spectacular dry barren mountains, bedouin
tents with shelters for the sheep and goats, then the
fertile agricultural plains of the Jordan valley.
Along the road, there are signs to the numerous Jewish
settlements - all neat, characterless and prosperous -
on the hillsides; a dramatic contrast to the squalor
of the Palestinian villages and towns through which we
passed. We passed two checkpoints along this stretch
of road, through the Palestinian Christian village of
Al Zababda where there is an Arab American University,
and on to the outskirts of Jenin. Heavy rain had made
one of the roads into Jenin impossible to pass, and so
we took another road which lead through a forested
area to where a huge tank controlled entry into the
town. A young soldier was sitting on top of the tank
below a group of Palestinians trying to get in or
out of the town. The sun was out and they had to look
up at him straight into the sun, throwing their IDs up
for him to check, which he looked at and then threw
back down to them. I was very struck by this scene.
Lori and I talked to him from our position of
inferiority down below, and after some discussion he
allowed us to continue, although none of our
companions was allowed in. They would have to find
another way. We walked aong the road to another taxi
which brought us to the town. Jenin town is a mess
the streets have all been churned up by the tanks, and
with the rain they were full of water and mud. Loris
friend Mohammed met us and took us to his house. He is
a civil engineer, trained in the United States
perfect English, sophisticated, well-travelled,
informed, charming, helpful and a very gracious and
generous host. I asked him when he last went out of
Jenin two years ago, he said, when he went to
Nablus, 40 kilometres south. He is thinking of leaving
with his family Canada perhaps, where they can all
lead a normal life.
The next morning Lori and I went to the office of the
Palestinian Womens Association of Workers
where we met several dynamic young women who took us
to Jenin Refugee Camp. The women are setting up a new
kindergarten for the kids in the Camp. There is only
one Jenin has a population of around 13,000. I
suppose everyone who has visited Jenin has the same
story and everyone has a different story. The same
story of destruction on a really massive scale, the
incredulity that such a thing could happen and that it
continues to happen before a fairly silent and
accepting world, the hearbreak for the people of Jenin
who suffered and continue to suffer because they are
prepared to resist the Israelis when they enter the
Camp with all their military might. But each person
also has a different story because each person sees
things from a different perspective, they talk to
different people, they are there at different times.
Some, like Vicky from the Palestinian Human Rights,
speak about the terrible stench of bodies in the
streets and houses reduced to piles of rubble with
pieces of furniture, toys, and even human limbs
sticking out from the ruins. I saw Jenin Camp when the
whole central area had been cleared a gigantic empty
space in the middle of the Camp - 12,000 square meters
of it, 800 homes demolished by the Israelis bulldozers
and Apache helicopters, more than 4000 people left
homeless. We walked through the mud alongside this
terrible empty space (none of the roads in the Camp
appeared to be sealed) to the home of a 23 year old
man who was killed in November. Here we talked to his
young wife and his mother, a strong and passionate
woman. The wife had a lovely smile which she gave us
both at frequent intervals. She held the baby Zaid,
born just before her husband was killed. Hes just a
couple of months old now. I sat on the floor and
helped her fold the washing. They showed no hestation
in talking to us - Lori is American and they were
warm and generous in their hospitality. The wife
showed us the new part of the house, not yet finished
the kitchen which she proudly explained to us in
great detail, the bedrooms. We looked at the bullet
holes in the bathroom and the wife joked about the
dangers of sitting on the toilet, directly in the line
of fire! This brand new house of which they are so
proud and for which they have worked so hard will now
be demolished her husband actively resisted the
occupation! Lori asked the wife is she knew her
husband could be killed when she married him yes, she
replied, but love is love.
>From the windows we see the devastation done to the
surrounding houses hit by Apache missiles. Smiling,
she tried to explain to me, how they reacted when the
Apaches came, dancing with her hands up in the air:
so here they are what can we do? We might as well
dance.
It will be difficult for her to remarry if she does,
the child will go to her husbands family. What use is
all this talk, asks the mother, who does anything?
Foreigners come and go, but nothing changes. And she
is right what happened in Jenin in April is
happening now, happens every day in Rafah on the
Egyptian border. Even when a British UN man is killed
by the soldiers, it doesnt matter the US vetoes a
UN resolution to condemn the killing. Yet she is
willing to talk to more foreigners, and to express
passionately her hopes and dreams, her belief in
justice and a free Palestinian nation. We leave this
family to their despair, their rage and their hopes,
and walk around the mud and rubble of the Camp. The
roads are terrible, unsealed, full of potholes, muddy.
We see a woman in tears being comforted by a few
friends her son has just been taken a common
story. (In fact 21 young men were rounded up and taken
away that morning). Despite the destruction, despite
the losses, Jenin has still a strong spirit, shown by
the slogans on walls Jenin will not give up!,
Sharon, you cant destroy our conviction. Ironically
some of these slogans are on destroyed walls,
fragments of walls which once stood upright and
protected a family inside from the weather, if not
from the soldiers.
There are rumours of a new incursion - there always
are, but this morning (26th December) I hear that they
have in fact once again invaded Jenin.
We left Jenin at 6.30 the next morning another
miserable, cold, rainy day. The minibus was full and
steamy. We plunged along the roads that have turned
into torrential rivers up hills that seem impossible
in these conditions, through lakes as if we are in
some adventure film. The first checkpoint: the young
soldier (18?) says Shalom to the middle aged
Palestinian woman next to me, and then Ahlan wa
sahlan to me (Arabic for Welcome?). We encounter no
more checkpoints, and reach Ramallah without any more
adventures. Ramallah to Jerusalem without any
checkpoints, and then because I did not think for one
moment that the curfew in Bethlehem would be lifted on
a Friday (it never is, so Muslims cannot go to the
mosque to pray), I got into a minivan going to Beit
Jala. A worried looking middle-aged foreigner stuck
his head in Bethlehem? I explained that he could
get to Bethlehem via Beit Jala, but he was not
convinced. The checkpoint is open, he has been assured
by Father Ibrahim from the Nativity Church with whom
he has an appointment, but the Palestinians in the van
do not think it is open, so we headed off for Beit
Jala. He was thrilled when we arrived Palestine
finally, he exclaimed, raising his hands in the air
in a gesture of triumph. But when I told him that I
was going to Aida Refugee Camp, he was amazed: There
is a camp near Bethlehem? There are three
Dheisheh, Azzah and Aida, I told him. Do they live
in tents or bungalows? he asked. And I explained that
they have been refugees for over 50 years, and now
live in houses they have built for themselves. Clearly
he knew nothing of the situation - nothing. Perhaps he
has heard of Jenin, but does he know that there are 60
Refugee Camps in the West Bank and Gaza, a quarter of
a million refugees from 1948 and more from 1967 who,
so many years later, still long for a homeland, still
believe they have a right to their own land. Jenin
shows clearly the price they pay for this, but every
Camp has its story.
__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Mail Plus - Powerful. Affordable. Sign up now.
http://mailplus.yahoo.com
