Thursday, 5 November 2009

I want to stay here forever. It’s so, so, beautiful, and it’s still ours…


Um Qassim and the New Generation


Um Qassim was born over 70 years ago in the village of Al Kabu. Her early childhood was spent amongst the clean air and fresh water of this Palestinian village. In 1948 everything changed for Um Qassim as it did for all Palestinians, and today she is one of the 4,500 residents of Aida Camp…

At 5.00 am, on Sunday 1st November, 100 people from the ages of three to ninety boarded two buses, full of hope to see their homelands again, but the IOF soldiers at Hussan checkpoint refused to let the buses pass - ‘You have permissions to enter Israel, but not through this checkpoint!’. The buses were forced to turn and head back towards the ominous and oppressive Checkpoint 300 (Bethlehem Checkpoint) alongside Aida Camp and next to Rachel’s Tomb. Had the buses passed through Hussan checkpoint they would, within one kilometer or so, have been in the land of Al Kabu, the village from which Um Qassim was forced over 60 years ago. A few miles further and 55 year old Shifa would also have seen her village of Beit Jibreen, and Abu Amar would have once more experienced his village of Ras Abu Ammar. The villages were not our destination though; we were attempting to get to the coast, and to the ancient Palestinian cities of Yafa, Haifa, and Akka.

At Checkpoint 300, hundreds of Palestinians were waiting to pass. They had permissions to work in Al Quds but they suffer every morning trying to get through the checkpoint. One 55 year old man explained that he gets to the checkpoint at 3.30 am every morning and is forced to wait for hours to pass through. He makes his way to Bethlehem every morning from Al Arrub refugee camp near Hebron.

We eventually passed the checkpoint and made our way to Yafa. All the children wore big smiles and songs rang out. 3 year old Rand, kept singing: "we are going to the sea.. we are going to sea.." Upon reaching Yafa, the children ran down to see the sea. 16 year old Hisham felt he was dreaming:

"This has always been my dream. I think I am still dreaming now. And I want never to wake up."

We had our breakfast alongside the coast. Everyone smelled the sea and breathed the fresh air that is noted only in its absence in Aida Camp. In the streets of Yafa, Abu Amar commented on the crumbling traditional Palestinian buildings, their decay was being offered no care and instead construction was underway within metres complete with huge advertising boards displaying artist’s impressions of the proposed finished designs; European styled apartment blocks and offices. In the flea market Palestinians and Israeli’s shopped, but both were heard speaking in a language non-indigenous to Yafa. One lone man on his way to the mosque greeted us with ‘Salaam Aleikum’, but he was the only exception.

The strong winds in Haifa made the sea dangerously rough, and sadly too rough in terms of safety for the children to enjoying the swimming they had dreamed about in the days preceding the trip. Most still took the opportunity to paddle though, or even just to touch the waters of Palestine’s seas. Younger children played on the sand, and others collected colorful stones and empty shells. This was their way to link the sea with the ones who could not reach it. 13 year old Rana was not collecting memories for herself:

" I want to take some shells back home to my family. We have some at home but these are more beautiful. They will remind me of this trip to Haifa."

Kifah, a Lajee volunteer of several years, added:

"I am taking some sand and sea water to my brother. He said he could not come with us because he did not get permission, but he wants to touch the sand of Haifa."

The children splashed and played at the water’s edge for two hours. Everyone on the shore could hear their laughter and squeals every time a wave chased them up the shore. 15 year old Reem lives in Aida Camp, less than 40 kms to the nearest point of the coast, but for her seeing these waters was something new and very special:

"This is the first time I have seen the sea. It is so huge and beautiful. I felt I had to touch it."

Many children hoped that they could ‘stay there forever’.

From the top of Jabal Al Karmil (Mount Karmel) the coast spread out in front of everyone’s eyes below them. It was an awe inspiring vista which brought gasps from many. 14 year old Sally was amongst those shocked at the sheer size and space of her view:

"This is the first time I have seen how huge the coast is. It looks exactly the way I draw it when I draw the map of Palestine.”

Heading down into the stunning Bahia Gardens eyes opened wide and jaws dropped. 15 year old Abdelfattah felt the beauty of his surroundings:

"I have heard about these Gardens but in reality they are more beautiful than what was been described. I do not believe how beautiful our country is. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!"he steep and ancient stone ramp that leads up to the ramparts of Akka presented little challenge to most of the youthful legs that raced up it, but for some the climb represented another challenge in a lifetime of challenges. The jeans and t-shirts of Lajee’s children contrasted with the traditional embroidered black dress with red patterning that Um Qassim wore as proudly as always. The children’s supple bones were also at odds with her two false knees, but she met the challenge as she has done with all obstacles through her long life of struggle. Resting alongside the ancient walls after the ascent, she described her feelings:

“I am tired, really I am tired now, but I am happy. This is the first time in my life that I have seen Akka, and it’s so beautiful…”

Before leaving we all sat on the rocks together around the harbor. Lights lit up the remnants of walls that still stood defiantly in the sea after long decades of battering by nature. The walls of Akka are beautiful and proud unlike the oppressive Apartheid version built by colonizers around parts, such as Aida Camp, of today’s Palestine. Akka seemed somehow as strong as its famous walls, and as defiant as Palestine’s people. Everyone we spoke to in Akka spoke Arabic, and its old city possibly even surpasses Al Quds in terms of beauty. It was a hopeful note on which to end the day; Akka, at least in the areas we visited, has retained its true identity. Looking out to see, Athal had tears in her eyes:

“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here forever. It’s so, so, beautiful, and it’s still ours…”

Sunday, 18 October 2009

Our Blood is the Same Color

From the Apartheid Wall:

Monday, 12 October 2009

Hull PSC next meets on Tuesday 13th Oct.

Hull PSC next meets on Tuesday 13th Oct. 7.30pm

at the Jericho Café,
on Cottingham Road, Hull.

(next to Gardener's)

---------------------------------------------------------------
News from Palestine

11 Oct 2009

Rich from Hull writes,

Few people visit Jenin these days. Being the West Bank’s most northerly city no-one really passes through Jenin in transit on their way to other Palestinian cities unlike Ramallah, Bethlehem, and even Nablus to a lesser degree. But much like Nablus, Jenin has become a prison within the myriad of Bantustans that is Occupied Palestine.

Before the creation of the Apartheid Wall it took around twenty minutes to drive from Jenin to Nazareth, a few kilometers more and you could reach Haifa and dip your toes in the Mediterranean. The rolling waves are now just a distant memory for most people, and a seemingly mythical dream for Jenin’s children.

When you add these factors to the many checkpoints, and the IOF’s closures of the city, you may begin to understand the feelings of isolation and desperation deep in the hearts of the 250,000 people who live in Jenin Governate.

In common with other Palestinians, Jenin’s residents are both incredibly warm and hospitable, and also deeply committed to seeing an end to their city’s, and their country’s Occupation.

Last week, students at Nablus’ Al-Najah University described to me their dedication to their studies, which they see as a platform on which to build a brighter future without Occupation for their country. Students in Jenin, and all over Palestine, feel likewise, but also face other barriers, speaking both metaphorically and literally.

In 1991 the Al Quds Open University system was established across Palestine. There are now twenty branches stretching from Rafah, on Palestine’s southern border with Egypt in the Gaza Strip, all the way to Jenin in the northern West Bank. Distance learning is practiced around the world but in Palestine its importance takes on extra significance, as Dr Hani, Director of the Jenin’s Al Quds Open University, explains:

“Socially and culturally distance learning addresses the needs of many students in Palestine, especially women and young mothers, who without such programs would not be able to continue their studies. But above these social issues are many directly related to the Occupation. Levels of unemployment are higher in Jenin than other West Bank cities and much closer to those in Gaza, well above 60%. We are isolated from other West Bank cities by Israel’s system of checkpoints, closures and roadblocks.”

Such restrictions make the flow of trade and commerce into Jenin almost impossible so consequently the city’s economy is in ruins.

“Open University fees are only around 30% of those at major Universities such as Al Najah (Nablus) or Bir Zeit (Ramallah). Distance learning is one way to combat the Occupation and closures. Students simply cannot get into the city from surrounding areas every day because of checkpoints which often close. Daily travel is a huge problem and distance learning helps to address this issue. If students miss their exams here because of travel restrictions they can simply transfer them to the next semester. We have more than one hundred students from the University currently in Israeli prisons, but when they are released they can easily return to their studies. Just last night, two of our students who live in Zababida were arrested!”

The night previous to this the IOF had also raided Zababida Village and arrested more than a dozen students from Jenin’s main campus based institute, the Arab-American University.

“We have around 7,000 students currently enrolled on courses from around Jenin Governate, but we have also seen many killed over the years. In this educational year alone, since October, four of our students have been killed by the Israeli forces.”

For the residents of seven villages in particular, home to around 15,000 residents, University education would be impossible without distance learning. These villages, such as Dhaher al Malih, Hannanit, and Umm ar
Rihan, now sit in what has effectively become ‘no man’s land’. That is to say that they are now physically separated from the rest of the Governate, and the rest of the West Bank, by the Apartheid Wall. This is one of the realities of Israel’s so called ‘Security Barrier’ that is often not properly understood because of Israel’s very successful international propaganda machine.

The Wall does not run along any internationally recognised border, but instead cuts deep into the West Bank, isolating many Palestinian villages onto the Israeli side of the Wall. Residents of these villages are prevented from entering Israel itself as they have Palestinian ID and therefore cannot pass the checkpoints. Neither are they allowed free passage to the Palestinian areas on this side of the Wall. In some places gates have been built into the Wall, but in order to pass through, Palestinians must first acquire a permit which can only be obtained from the Occupation authorities, and which is often not granted. Even for those who obtain these permits the gates are theoretically only opened at set times for a few hours a day. In practice the gates often remain locked, creating yet more prisons within prisons.

After talking with Dr Hani I went to see the Student Council at Al Quds Open University who had arranged for me to speak with some students who live in communities trapped in this ‘no man’s land’. When I entered the office however, I found it deserted except for Ra’id, the leader of the student council:

“I am very sorry but we cannot have a meeting today.”

I knew what Ra’id was going to tell me next, and he confirmed my thoughts:

“The students couldn’t make it today. The soldiers locked the gates and closed the checkpoints!”

So there it was, a perfect, or rather disgusting example, of the necessities nor distance learning in Jenin Governate, and another example of Israel’s attempts to prevent Palestinian education. Ra’id continued:

“They will try again tomorrow…”

So today I returned to the University to try again, and the students from these isolated villages again tried to continue their studies. Thankfully, today we were all successful.

Manal, Rasha and Waleed all live in the village of Dhaher al Malih, one of the seven isolated by the Apartheid Wall in the Jenin Governate. Waleed explained that the construction of the Wall in this area began in 2003, and was completed by the following year. He has the required permission to pass through the gates and checkpoints into Jenin but, as was demonstrated yesterday, this often counts for nothing:

“It used to take fifteen minutes from our village to the city before the Wall, now it takes around an hour on a good day. The gate is meant to be open from 6-10 in the morning, and then reopen at 12 until 6pm, but
sometimes they only open it for an hour or two, other days it doesn’t open at all! There is also another permanent checkpoint to pass through, and sometimes ‘rolling checkpoints’ too(these are ‘temporary’ checkpoints which the IOF can setup anywhere by blocking roads with their jeeps for ID checks and further disruption).”

Rasha told me how she felt when she saw the construction of the Wall taking place:

“When I saw the Wall being built I felt sad and dejected. Most people in our village are farmers, my family lost half of our land. We watched our olive trees being chopped down and our land being stolen. We felt isolated and frightened that we would lose communication with people from nearby villages. We have lost friends and family members who can no longer come to see us. Our village has lost more than half of its land. It makes me very pessimistic for the future, I am tired of seeing things disappear, and being surrounded inside a prison…”

Aswell as stealing land and imprisoning these villages, the Wall has also cut them off from the Palestinian infrastructure, and not just educational but also medical facilities which has had fatal consequences as Waleed
explained:

“If a woman goes into labour, or there is a medical emergency whilst our gate is shut, we must go to Batar checkpoint, this gate is meant to be open until 9pm. If all gates are closed its just impossible, we cannot get to a hospital. We have one local doctor in our village who does all he can but people have died.”

Rasha interjects, continuing the story:

“Yes, one or two people have died because they couldn’t get proper treatment. I remember one who had a heart attack and couldn’t get to hospital so he just died there, in our village, unable to get any help. We
have children with severe kidney problems, maybe it will happen to them too one day…”

I can see the sadness and desperation in the young students’ face as she talks.

The stories of those trapped behind the Wall are yet more living proof of the consequences of Israel’s campaigns of Apartheid and Ethnic Cleansing. If these villagers can be forced from their land because of these inhumane living conditions, then in Zionist terms, the land has been ‘cleansed’, and Israel expands yet further. Manal explained this:

“The Wall was built here for colonisation. There is already a Settlement next to our village and they have their own roads leading to Tel Aviv and other Israeli cities which we cannot use. They (the Israeli’s) also have a
big military camp just fifty metres from our village. They have already colonized most of our land!”

These are just some of the facts, the realities, the effects of this concrete monstrosity which I, unapologetically, will always refer to as the Apartheid Wall. Its aim is not ‘security’ but colonisation and expansion of Israel. Its construction led to the displacement of an estimated 250,000 Palestinians. In these seven villages alone in the Jenin Governate 15,000 Palestinains are trapped in this effective ‘no mans land’, without even the most basic of human rights such as freedom of movement and access to medical care. If it were not for the distance learning program of Jenin’s Al Quds Open University they would also have no access to continued education. This has happened in many places across Palestine.

As Zionist colonisation continues, so does the creation of yet more Bantustans, more prisons within prisons.

Lajee Centre, Aida Camp, Hebron
.