The first week

On Saturday afternoon I took a service from Ramallah to Abu Dis where Wendy and Abed (the Cadfa coordinator in Palestine) were waiting for me. We made our way to Abed’s house where we met his lovely family and were treated to a delicious meal. After dinner we sat on the rooftop terrace from where Abed pointed out the Al Aqsa mosque and Jordan and talked about the situation in Abu Dis.

On Sunday, our first day at the camp, we started with an introduction to the other volunteers, kids and Dar Assadaqa. Hannah, who will be helping us translate took us on a tour of Abu Dis, showing us the university, the church of Lazarus, the wall and a half torn down buildings. We saw tear gas canisters, where people had tried to knock holes in the wall, graffiti, black areas where fires had been started, watchtowers and the only ‘playground’ in Abu dis.

Monday was our first real day of teaching! The kids are split into three groups, 7-10 and two groups of around 10-13. We came armed with a lot of ideas but not a whole lot of experience so the first day was a big learning curve! We did some yoga, talked about different body parts in English and played a couple of games practicing the days of the week and counting in English. Some of the kids’ English is very good and others are still a bit shy but by the end of the day we got hugs and smiles so it went well.

Knowing a little better what is expected of us we spent the rest of the day coming up with a plan for
 the classes on Tuesday. One of the things we are working on during this camp is getting the kids to talk about their feelings and helping them become more confident talking to other people about themselves and their lives in Abu dis. On Saturday we have a group of kids coming from East Jerusalem and we’d like our kids to put together a presentation with facts and drawings they would like to share with them and also prepare some questions they would like to ask the other kids about life in East Jerusalem, a place they all know and can see from Abu dis but most are not allowed to enter.

In the evening we were invited to join a quiet, peaceful protest with the female relatives and supporters of Huthaifa Badr who has been imprisoned for over 14 months and has been on a hunger strike for 25 days and has now been taken to the prison hospital. Please sign the petition for his release.. He has an infant son who he hasn’t met yet due to his imprisonment….

https://www.change.org/p/andrew-murrison-mp-urgently-free-huthaifa-badr?recruiter=10740762&utm_source=share_petition&utm_campaign=petition_show&utm_medium=whatsapp&recruited_by_id=bddc5f90-3350-0130-a2e9-3c764e049c4f

Tuesday we arrived and first spent some time talking with all of the kids about the things they remembered from yesterday and we asked them to share with us and the group two things they liked and one thing they disliked. Some kids didn’t enjoy yoga but a lot of them said they like everything! Hurrah!

Then we split them into pairs and asked them to make a drawing about themselves and their lives in Abu Dis which they then presented to the group in English. One boy drew a computer and a PlayStation and a smartphone because he loves programming and wants to design video games when he’s older! Another boy drew the wall and soldiers and boys throwing rocks and shooting and blood…. Absolutely heartbreaking.

In the afternoon Wendy and myself took a service to Bethlehem where we visited the Church of the Nativity and the Milk Grotto before making our way down to Banksy’s Walled Off Hotel. The exhibition at the hotel about the occupation is very informative in a fun way and as far as I’m concerned a must see for everyone!! After, we had some tea and cake and made our way back to the bus station walking along the metres high separation wall full of interesting and provocative artwork.

Yesterday was the last day before our two day weekend and we spent time making more drawings to present to the kids from Jerusalem.

We have today and tomorrow off and I’m taking some time to reflect on everything I’ve learned so far as well as relax and get reenergised for a new week of teaching English.

Even though I cherish the peace and quiet I do miss the kids’ loud and sincere ‘Welcome!’,
‘Good morning!’, ‘How are you?’ and ‘I love you!’; they are the best bunch!

Made it

After a long, delayed, overnight flight; this morning I was treated to some of Israel’s famous hospitality. Some questioning and two baggage checks later I was on my way to Jerusalem by shared taxi to then get on a bus to Ramallah. For some reason the bus couldn’t go past The Qalandiya checkpoint and so I dragged my suitcase through the prison style gates and the dust into Palestine to get on another bus that would take me into town.
On Saturday I start helping out at the ‘New Horizons’ Summer camp in Abu Dis but until then I’m visiting with friends. I’m very much looking forward to meeting the other volunteers and the kids I will be working with over the next few weeks.
I have been waiting for this day for the last 7 months and could not be happier that we are finally there!
I’ve been here before so I have a little bit of an idea about life for the Palestinian people under Israel’s occupation. However I have been told that life in Abu Dis is far different to life in Ramallah. In a way I am looking forward to seeing for myself what goes on there every day so that I can report back to all of you. So that we can stand united in the fight against the horrible injustices that happen here EVERY SINGLE DAY!
For now I am adapting to the heat and catching up with my friends.
More to follow soon!

A Recollection of 24 Hours

As I descend the steps leading off the plane, waves of humid heat greet me and accompany me to the interior of Tel Aviv’s Ben Gurion airport. My first views of Jerusalem come from inside a shared taxi as it drops off tourist after tourist at their respective hotels. When my stop comes, the taxi which will take me the rest of my journey across the border to the town of Abu Dis awaits me. Abed, the coordinator for Dar as-Siddaqa, explains later that he could not come and greet me himself; like most Palestinians, he doesn’t have the military authorisation from Israel to enter Jerusalem.

I had expected the border between Jerusalem and Abu Dis to be prominent - a checkpoint where Israeli soldiers stood, or a big gate of some sort, slicing the land in two. This was not the case (Abed would later point out that I was leaving Jerusalem, and driving in the opposite direction would be a different story). Instead, my indicators that we were crossing into Palestine were the roads phasing from smooth, unworn concrete to those dusted with a layer of sand, and massive signs in Hebrew and English warning that the road we were on continued into territories dangerous for Israeli civilians. A certain dehumanisation in these signs struck me - the way they warned of this unnamed danger which lay just outside of the city confines. What is it like to grow up near such signs, the connection slowly forming in your mind between Palestine and danger to Israeli civilians like yourself? What lies beyond those roads remains unclear, but you are taught that it seeks to harm you.

We drive on. As we do so, the writing on storefronts goes from Hebrew, to Hebrew and Arabic, to only Arabic, and Jerusalem’s metropolitan sheen quickly fades from the buildings as we enter the West Bank.

25 minutes after setting out we’re in Abu Dis, and Abed is showing me up to the apartment. Our first conversation is him telling me of the event which took place an hour before my arrival: the Israeli military shot a Palestinian of my own age, 21, and left him to bleed out and die. I learn the day after this that the Israeli military is withholding the man’s body from his family. First, they must sign contracts placing restrictions on the number of people who can attend his funeral. Any breaches will result in hefty fines and punishment for his father. Death is not the only tragedy for this family - it is the trigger for a series of events which exacerbate the pain felt by those whose freedoms, or lack thereof, are at the whim of a foreign military even on land internationally recognised as their own.

Abed and I stand on Dar as-Siddaqa’s balcony the next day looking down at Abu Dis’ main road. We’ve just had some coffee brewed in, according to him, the objectively correct manner (note: do not make a latte in Abed’s company). I have spent the morning hearing about Palestine’s history and current situation. I have learned about the three zones which the Israeli military classifies Palestinian cities, suburbs and countryside into in order to designate things such as the agency of the Palestinian authorities in an area, and who is responsible for schools and hospitals. The Israeli military can flexibly change an area’s classification, allowing for increased control of it or decreased responsibility for it as is convenient for the military’s goals.

I also learn of the five different Palestinian ID cards assigned by Israel. Each has unique restrictions on where Palestinians can travel to and live, and whether they can vote. When the Separation Wall was built, around 800 families were cut off from each other due to these IDs – some family members’ IDs only allowed them to reside in the West Bank and not to enter Jerusalem, while other members’ IDs declared them as Palestinians living in Jerusalem, and thereby prevented from living in the West Bank. The borders cut people off from those close to them, along with vital services and community hubs: Abu Dis’ three nearest hospitals and main market all now lie across a largely impassable border for the Palestinians of the West Bank. Even a medical visit to a hospital in Jerusalem requires prior military permission for most West Bank residents, and their permitted length of stay is limited to several days.

Prevented by the border from accessing their old jobs in Jerusalem, many West Bank residents now face unemployment. In certain places such as Abu Dis, unemployment has skyrocketed to levels nearing 40%. Abed laments the stunted economy, and relates it to the importance that Palestinians place on education: “Education is central to the life of Palestinians because we have nothing else to invest in.”

The rest of my day is spent with a biology teacher who teaches in Abu Dis and has lived in the nearby town of al-Eizariya, biblically known as Bethany, her whole life. She takes me on a trip here, where I see Lazarus’ tomb and centuries-old churches. We drink fresh grapefruit juice at a nearby shop where we get in to a conversation with the light-hearted owner about Arabic dialects.

Later, over some tabbouleh and fattoush, she tells me of her love of snakes and taxidermy and we exchange photos. I show her my family and some of the Vermont landscapes near my university, and she shows me photos of food she has made for her students - a pizza representing a cell, and the various toppings its inner contents; a virus cell in the form of a cake; cucumbers and tomatoes carefully cut to reflect the workings of a nerve cell - along with pictures of her siblings and beloved nieces and nephews. A picture of my young cousin makes her light up, and she expresses her love of children to me.

A few minutes later, I ask her how her family has been affected by the occupation. She cites a cousin that the military imprisoned, and then tells me about the many years she had ovarian cancer: Al-Eizariya is right next to the wall, and since it was built in 2003, what used to be a five minute trip to the nearest hospital has become a two and a half hour long affair. Lengthy journey times made treatment for her cancer inaccessible. When her bleeding became incontrollable and hope of treatment deteriorated, she had her uterus removed. With it went the possibility of her having children. Her love of children is poured into her nieces, nephews, and students, but I watch a shadow cross over her face as she mourns the mother she could have been if only for reasonable access to healthcare.

She closes her eyes, shakes her sorrow off with a sigh, and meets my eyes again with a smile.

JUST KEEP SWIMMING!

Today was the last day of the camp before the big celebration on Saturday and we spent it out on a trip to a swimming pool in Beir Zeit. We took the kids and some local parents to the club and had a lovely day in the sun. The kids really enjoyed it, alot of them practicing and learning how to swim. We had lunch there, donated kindly and generously by the shop below dar assadaqa, a selected of salamis, bread and juice, more than enough to keep us going throughout the day.

After we finished with the swimming us volunteers were lucky enough to see a comedy show in a hotel in ramallah, starring Amer Zahr. We did a little bit it shipping before hand and of course went to eat then to have our daily knafeh (it's becoming a bit of a tradition among us).
Over all a very nice day and a lovely way to end the camp.
Here's to a great weekend!

Sea, sun, sand

Sea, sun, sand. Or mud?
Today was another weekend day for us volunteers, so we took the chance to unwind with our friends here and visit the dead sea beside Jericho. Heat and salt, both in great excess today! The dead sea offered us floating and mud masks and an unforgettable view of Jordan just what seemed like a swim away. Unfortunately that's not a possibly leisure here, and I doubt if we were allowed anyway the pure lack of control in the unbearably salty water wouldn't have allowed it. We enjoyed cold drinks from 'the lowest bar on earth' (overpriced as always, but most defineltly worth it). The trip was lovely and we've all come back golden brown, or bright red and what is to become golden brown. A fresh chicken shawarma was excitedly welcomed on the way back.
P.s. the learning never stops here, today's lesson: a game of tarneeb (yaz and mosaab deffo won sorry Ahmad and pauline) :)

A tightening grip

  A Tightening grip

Today we all went on a tour around Abu Dis which Abed had planned and our friends Mousa and Mosab came with us. We circled around the town taking in Bethany, also known as Al Eizariya, because it is here that John’s Gospel records the raising of Lazarus from the dead, and Sawaher.

As we completed the circle we encountered one dead end after another. The first was at the Zytunna (olive) Terminal which cuts a road that led from Abu Dis to Jerusalem. It houses the Civil Dept where people can apply for permits to walk across and is an army base.  From there we headed on to what was historically the road between Jerusalem and Amman, now crossed and closed by the wall. Nearby stands a large and impressive building which was to have been the ‘Palestinian Parliament’ but permission was cancelled by the Israelis when nearly completed because they found it to be in Area C and therefore under military control. There too is the Cliff Hotel which was owned by an Abu Dis family who decided to demolish and rebuild it. Work on the building was stopped when it was found to have “no owner”. A member of the family pursued the matter and an Israeli court confirmed that it was theirs, but the army would have a base on the roof. It is now part of the wall.

Perhaps the greatest mess is in Sawaher which has been divided in two. In this process many families have come to have mixed IDs – green, West Bank and blue, Jerusalem. It is illegal for them to live in one house together. They have either to separate or live on either side and often their children have no ID. Just a detail - the checkpoint in the middle of the town and cuts off the graveyard. Those who wish to attend a funeral have to apply individually for permits and cannot thereafter visit a grave.

From Sawaher we reached the south east corner of the area, where the north/ south road through the West Bank ran.  It is now the first checkpoint between Abu Dis and Bethlehem. That very morning a young man was attacked by the army for taking photos and over the past 3 years 7 young people have been killed at this checkpoint. It is often closed during rush hour, delaying students and people trying to get to work.  Students from the south attending Al Quds University often try to find accommodation in Abu Dis at times when they risk being prevented from taking their exams.

The last part of our tour took us to Khal Ahmar, the Bedouin village which the Israelis now want to move into Abu Dis in the process of clearing the Bedouin areas to leave ‘empty lands’ for settlements. This will complete the settlement ring around Jerusalem and make travel even more difficult. Our journey back takes us again to the old Jerusalem/ Abu Dis, Jordan road. In front of us is Maalodumim Settlement, the biggest in Palestine, built on land from Abu Dis, Bethany and Sawaher.  We return to Abu Dis on the only road open to the residents of those towns. Beyond is a new road which only Israelis and those they permit can use.

The Palestinian weekend

The Palestinian weekend. Thursday and Friday. You can really see the difference in the town, and they're free days for cadfa volunteers, time to travel! Yesterday we took the chance to visit the far city of nablus, home of knafeh and to one of our dear friends ahmad's beautiful family. Since to travel to nablus you need to pass through ramallah, we figured we'd take the chance to also visit ramallah for a couple of hours, two trips in one! Ramallah was buzzing and busy, we walked through the town centre and through the old city, looked though some beautiful hand made delicates and got to see some dabkeh at a local event. We then sat down to a delicious mix grill meal whilst waiting for our friend mosaab to meet us. After he arrived it was time to leave to nablus, a bit of a journey but definetly worth it. We arrived straight away seeing the nablus town sign (of course picture opportunity was taken) then we made our way to the old city to buy souvenirs and see the famous knafeh shop, you can see the knafeh being made on one side to it being taken over to be served just opposite it! And of course the eating the knafeh was even better! After the old city we made our way into the mountains of nablus to catch a view of the city, a beautiful sight from so high up. The last thing on our list to do, the main event of the day was to visit ahmad's family home as we had a very kind invite to dinner with them. Ahmad's mother was making musakhan (which yas was very pleased about, musakhan crazy!) And of course the meal was beautifully presented and even more beautifully tasting! We really enjoyed the kind invitation of ahmad's family and we had a great night drinking tea and eating fruit. The long journey back was a nice rest for us all after our long day of exploring. Thanks Ahmad and mosaab for a lovely day :)