I’ve been back in Palestine for two weeks now, though it seems much longer. We’ve already finished one Unplugged trip, I’ve visited many friends, and now we’re preparing for our Re-Plugged trip. We’ll be taking 20 girls and boys from Balata refugee camp in Nablus to visit Jerusalem, the sea, and the villages their grandparents were expelled from in 1948.
The trip starts the day after a new Israeli law is supposed to take effect. Many of you know that there is already a system of apartheid in place for many of the daily functions in the West Bank (my South African friends insist that the situation here is way beyond apartheid and worse than apartheid ever was, but there are still definite similarities). Israeli citizens and people with Jerusalem ID have yellow license plates, and Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza have green license plates. The new law states that even within the West Bank, Palestinian people with West Bank ID will not be allowed in any yellow-plated vehicles. Their relatives from Jerusalem will not be able to drive them around, even in their own villages. In response, a number of Israeli and international people are organizing “freedom rides” this Friday, where they will use yellow-plated cars to drive around as many Palestinian people as possible on their way to the weekly demonstration against the wall in Bil’in village. Even the UN, which generally does nothing more here than produce reports and maps, has stated that they will not comply with the new law. It remains to be seen whether it will be enforced, and whether it will affect us or not as we try to travel with the children.
It’s the work with children here that gives me inspiration. And I’ve been lucky enough to experience a few amazing examples of it in the past week. On Friday I went to the opening of an exhibit at the Freedom Theatre in Jenin refugee camp. The Freedom Theatre was originally opened by Arna Mer Khamis (the film “Arna’s Children” is about this and what happened to the children as they grew older). Arna’s son Juliano, who made the film, has re-opened the theatre and it serves as a cultural and artistic center for the camp. The exhibit is art about Palestine and Lebanon by the children and by older Palestinian and international artists. The place was packed as the program began, with children sitting on top of each other and in the aisles to make room for all the guests who had come. We were Palestinian, Israeli, and international, people from the camp and people from Ramallah and other cities. Juliano’s first thanks were to the Al Aqsa Martyr’s Brigade, Islamic Jihad, Hamas, Fatah, and other militant and political groups for their support of the theatre. In the atmosphere of tension between Fatah and Hamas, exaggerated by the media but nonetheless very present, it was quite fascinating to see a person with Jewish Israeli and Palestinian heritage standing on the stage welcoming fighters from different factions and Israelis to the same location. Zakaria Zubeidi, head of Jenin’s Al Aqsa Martyr’s Brigade and one of “Arna’s children”, came out of hiding for the day to shake each person’s hand, stand on stage with Juliano, and give a speech. Young girls read poetry, a Palestinian musical group from Haifa performed, people with “security” written on their shirts danced and clapped and laughed. The Brazilian ambassador came and was recognized. It was a good time, and different than any crowd I’ve experienced at any other event.
The next day I attended a screening of 3-5 minute films made by children from Dheisheh and Aida refugee camps in Bethlehem. A group from the US had spent one week with them in a digital storytelling workshop, and the result were these incredible films that the children produced by themselves – they wrote the script and chose photos and music to go with it. Many of the films were about friends and loved ones killed or imprisoned by the Israeli army, or about their villages that they long to return to, or even about their own injuries. One boy, Miras, made a film about being shot just last month in an incident that made international press. He was playing with cousins on his porch and Israeli army snipers opened fire on them. Miras was shot in the stomach. I had read about it when it happened but hadn’t read about his recovery, so it was great to see him there, and to see him already reflecting about it and able to express himself through this medium.
I’ll try to write again after our Re-Plugged trip. I realize I’ve written about a few specific events here without any general analysis. This is partly because the situation does not seem appreciably different than when I was last here – or I should probably say that things are getting worse at a pace that Palestinian people are used to, rather than at the rapid pace they were declining last summer. It’s partly because I’ve been caught up in the day to day with little time to reflect. It’s partly because I haven’t been reading the news and hear only bits and pieces of stories about Fatah and Hamas forming a unity government, Condoleezza Rice’s visit and Palestinian protests against it, Bush bombing Somalia, etc.
So this is just a glimpse of what I’ve been up to. Next time I hope to include a bit more of what I’ve been thinking, once I figure it out myself.
