[RSF] aida

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Autor: helen pope
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Assumpte: [RSF] aida
Hi,

more news from Aida.

Happy New Year.

Helen

4 January 2003

They killed 5 the other day – an 18 year old boy
beaten to death by soldiers in Hebron, 4 others shot
dead. I got this from the BBC World Service – I don’t
always get the numbers, but I know they are daily.
Recently there have been reports in the newspapers
about the beatings. The soldiers have a ‘game’ based
on Rabin’s ‘break their bones’ policy of the late
80’s. Now many of them give the boys they catch a
choice – what do you prefer us to break – your arms,
your legs or your nose? Most choose the nose, as being
least important . The soldiers then use the butts of
their M16 rifles to break the chosen bones. 2 were
assassinated in the center of Ramallah by Israelis
disguised as locals. A 16 year old boy was killed in
Nablus, another killed in Gaza.
9 were killed just two days earlier, including a
child.This was followed by the killing of 4 settlers,
which I suppose made the news – ‘terrorists strike
settlers’.
There is such a feeling of despair: what can the new
year bring? No hope, no justice, no freedom – just
more oppression, more deaths, more demolitions, more
loss of land, more poverty, more rage, more
bitterness, more suffering. The present occupation of
Bethlehem has gone on for 42 days now, bringing the
total number of days in the year of living directly
under Israeli military occupation to 180, i.e. almost
half the year. There is a terrible feeling of people
getting accustomed to it. When the Israelis first
invaded, people talked about when they would leave:
they no longer do. People can no longer make any
plans. I wanted to have a party for the volunteers of
Lajee Center next week. The idea was rejected, because
there will probably be curfew and we won’t be allowed
out.

Ramadan was bleak and miserable. The invasion took
place 2 weeks after Ramadan began and curfew was
imposed, so the joys of sharing the fast-breaking meal
at sunset with the whole family were not possible.
When I arrived in Aida in December last year, the
women were all busy sitting together making the
traditional sweet cakes for the end of Ramadan and the
beginning of the Eid. This year, for the first time,
most of the women in the Camp did not make the cakes.
This year, for the first time, the festival at the end
of Ramadan, the Eid al Ftur (usually 3 days of
celebration with family and friends), took place under
curfew - Palestinians were not allowed out of their
homes for the traditional visits to families, friends,
to the cemetery to pray at the graves of deceased
family. We all spent the Eid under house arrest.

The soldiers sporadically come into the Camp – there
seems to be no particular reason. The jeeps and tanks
come down the road at the side of the Camp to park at
the end of a street. The boys come out and throw
stones at the heavily armed soldiers, and the soldiers
respond with gas bombs, sound bombs and occasional
fire. After a while they go away. Perhaps it has
relieved the tedium.

Christmas was even more bleak than Ramadan. The church
had asked the Israelis for permisssion for pilgrims to
visit the Church of the Nativity at Christmas time.
There seemed to be a relaxation of curfew, although
not of military presence, for a few days prior to
Christmas. But there were no Christmas decorations, no
feeling of joy and celebration. However, people
enjoyed the limited freedom of leaving their homes,
going to the shops, meeting their friends. I went to
Bethlehem on Christmas Eve to do some Christmas
shopping – it was cold and grey and cheerless. There
were a few people in Manger Square, including
children, with banners protesting the occupation and
the denial of human rights for Palestinians, but many
were just waiting to see the Patriarch arrive from
Jerusalem. As I walked back up the narrow streets away
from the Square, I was confronted by a very large,
loud and well-organised group of protesters. There
must have been at least 200 of them, well-supplied
with banners: ‘End the Occupation’, ‘Demolish the
Settlements’, ‘Rights for the Palestinian people’, who
greeted the bemused locals as they made their way down
the street into the Square. They were Israelis, from
an Israeli peace group, who had made their way into
Bethlehem illegally to show their solidarity with the
Palestinian people. This was more in the spirit of
Christmas, and for a fleeting moment, I felt some
optimism.

I had wanted to put on a Christmas party for all the
children in Lajee Center. Last year when I was here at
this time, the children went to three Christmas
parties – one here in the Camp, one in the Mary Dotti
Gardens in Bethlehem with other children from the
areas, and the third in Manger Square. The majority of
kids may be Muslims, but they love Santa Claus. The
traditional children’s parties in Bethlehem were
cancelled because of the military presence, and we
could not hold a party in Lajee Center because it was
too dangerous. The soldiers might come into the Camp
and gas bombs would be the least we could expect from
them. So I held a smaller party in my rooms here for
the children in the family. Since 5 families live in
this building, there were about 30 children. Several
volunteers from the Center decorated my rooms, we put
up a Christmas tree with lights, and Mahdi put on a
Santa costume and gave out presents to the enormous
delight of the children. For a couple of hours, they
forgot the hardships and misery of life under
occupation, and laughed and danced and sang together.
It was wonderful. I had bought small presents for the
family members here, hoping to repay in a tiny way
some of the generous hospitality I have received from
them over the past 5 months, but when they realised
there were presents under the tree, they then went and
bought presents for me!
The next day, since curfew had been lifted ‘until
further notice’, people went out into Bethlehem, met
their friends, did some shopping, and then the jeeps
arrived at 2 p.m.: ‘Curfew – everyone back in their
homes!’ I watched the scenes on the TV – jeeps,
soldiers, people confused. Some people were running to
find refuge, some just stood still and didn’t know
where to go. Many people had come in from the
surrounding villages which have been virtually
isolated during this incursion. How were they to get
back?

Curfew had been lifted on New Year’s Eve. The big
reception halls prepared for an evening of festivity
amidst this horror and hardship – dinner for hundreds,
decorations, all ready for the evening; restaurants
which have had virtually no business for 2 years, got
in their supplies in preparation, parties for friends
and families were arranged. At least we could join
together to say goodbye to the old year which had
brought so much suffering, and to hope, despite the
circumstances, for a better year in 2003. But not even
this was permitted. At around 9.30 p.m. the jeeps
began their mission, sweeping through Bethlehem and
the surrounding areas, with their loudspeakers
blasting: ‘Curfew, everyone must go home!’ I had been
invited to a party in Bethlehem by a German musician
who teaches here. The news reached them at 10 p.m.
Almost everyone left the party. Another group decided
to continue their party, but the soldiers came and
threw gas bombs inside. Another threat to Israeli
security! Food for thousands was wasted, money lost,
the spirit of sharing and celebrating destroyed, any
hope for the new year shattered. I had decided to stay
in the Camp with my friends, and we were able to spend
the evening together. Despite the news, we had fun –
eating, drinking (Cola), dancing. I am always
astounded and impressed by their resilience.

Next day curfew was lifted. I went to Ramallah to buy
computer supplies. As I walked back from the Bethlehem
checkpoint along the wide, deserted street with its
closed tourist shops and restaurants, my eyes started
to water, my nose blocked, my head felt fuzzy. I saw a
group of soldiers standing by Rahel’s Tomb at the
corner of the Camp. You can’t go down there, they told
me, too much gas. The same old story: they had come
into the Camp, the boys had thrown stones, they had
responded with gas bombs. The air was heavy with the
fumes, and I had to retreat and wait 15 minutes before
I could approach the Camp again. Studies are now being
conducted on the serious dangers of this gas –
pregnant women have lost their babies, children and
old people suffer terrible effects which are only
beginning to be realized.

Daily and nightly arrests continue, sound bombs break
the silence of the evening in the Camp. There were a
couple of sound bombs 2 nights ago at around 3 a.m.
Nothing had happened to provoke them – it’s just a way
of frightening people and reminding them that the
soldiers are nearby. I heard a BBC report on the
‘quelling of a riot’ in one of the prisons near
Ramallah. The prisoners had protested at the beatings
by the guards in the prison, they went on a hunger
strike to highlight their case, the guards threw gas
bombs inside their cells. Arrest, beating, hunger, gas
inhalation. There are disturbing reports, coming from
one of the Embassies, that the Israelis plan an
evacuation of foreigners from this area on the 15th
January. What does this mean? A friend recounted the
story of friends in Ramallah who have tried 12 times
now to get married. Each time they plan, there is
curfew!

What is curfew? Basically it means that the entire
population is under house arrest. We have been under
house arrest now for more than 40 days. Every now and
then curfew is lifted for a few hours to enable people
to go outside, buy supplies, make medical visits, go
to work, to school. But curfew is constant, and
lifting is never announced in advance to allow people
to make arrangements for such things as weddings or
anything else, for that matter. In the evening there
may be an announcement for the next day, soldiers may
come through the areas in their jeeps announcing on
the loudspeakers curfew or lifting of curfew
(sometimes mocking the locals by concluding ‘Allah
Akbar’, ‘God is great’ , the traditional religious
call for muslims). For example, last night there was
an announcement that curfew would be lifted at 6 a.m.
today, but this morning, they had changed their minds
– curfew as usual! I had planned to go to Bethlehem to
buy some much needed supplies; we had planned a party
for Lori, who is leaving Palestine soon to return to
the States to write up her Ph.D. dissertation; others
had planned to go to work, to University, to visit
friends. Manar is 11 today, and we wanted to buy cakes
and presents for her – now she will not have any. We
are locked inside again, just when we thought we would
be allowed out for a few hours. Often times are
changed during the lifting – a lifting from 12 till 4
p.m. will suddenly be over at 2 p.m., so people are
caught unawares, stranded, threatened.

Will we be allowed out tomorrow? I don’t know, none of
us knows, no-one can make plans for tomorrow. Today we
had hoped to take the group of 6 students in Lajee’s
Anthropology course up for one last meeting in
Ramallah. A daring idea – to move from one Palestinian
town to another Palestinian town – less than 30
kilometers away. Most of the students have never left
this area of Bethlehem; we thought of taking them to a
cinema or a play – to do things which they can never
do here. We thought it might be exciting, stimulating,
different. But of course we had to cancel it. As I sit
writing this in Lajee Center there is another ‘battle’
between the children (mostly between 7 and 15) armed
with stones, and the soldiers armed with sound bombs,
gas bombs and M16’s in the street outside. I just
heard live ammunition fired, and the children have
dispersed – at least for the moment.





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