Who knew I'd be going to Palestine eh.
The answer is me. I did.
Currently I'm feeling kinda sick (got a good ol cold 🙃) so I'm laying in bed at my host families' house, listening to cars honking outside (probably because of a wedding) and thinking about my first day of work tomorrow (I've been supporting people with disabilities for a long time, so I might know what to expect, but at the same time, who knows what to expect 🤷♂️)
What to write in this blog. I'm thinking about something a very knowledgeable and experienced Palestinian man, who runs a very important non-profit organization, said to me this past week: "if you're here for 4 days, you'll write a book. If you're here for 4 years, you'll write an article. If you're here for 40 years, you'll write nothing".
I've been here for like 10 days, so nothing I can say can give even the narrowest account of what's going on around here. But then again, you all joined a group, so here's...something.
I've been staying at a boarding school the last 10 days with a team of people who are also here to work for a year, and we've been travelling around to different parts of Palestine and Israel every day, meeting with all kinds of local people. They've all been insanely welcoming and hospitable, and have all had so much to say about the challenges they've overcome, continue to face, and their plans for the future in spite of it all.
I walked along the illegal border wall that Israel put up 26 years ago (despite the UN telling them to take it down) and saw all the beautiful (and often, appropriately jarring) graffiti put there in protest by Palestinians. I was shown a children's playground that the Israeli army uses as a common test site for teargas, and saw a recorded live feed of the kids running for cover, which gave me the smallest glimpse into the type of resiliency demanded from those who live here.
I was told several first-hand stories of resiliency. Like the Palestinian farmer who's been fighting for 32 years to not have his land illegally taken away, withstanding intentional fires, mobs and brutal personal violence. Also, of 9-year-old children getting detained and interrogated for up to 9 hours when on their way to school for false claims of rock throwing, and of the children who end up getting months or years of jail time for the same things. I've heard uncountable stories of Palestinians suddenly losing their homes by force, and walked through a Palestinian refugee camp, where 60% of the population have either masters degrees or PHDs, determined to fight back at oppression through education.
I asked why many Palestinians have their windows boarded up, and heard that it's to prevent something called skunk-water that the Israeli army will spray into random homes at night, which can hardly be washed out and gives a horrible smell that lasts for weeks (while walking along the wall, we saw one of the skunk-water guns above us, and later on saw that it was now pointed at us. "It's so we know they're watching", I was told).
I walked through Hebron, which is the city with the greatest amount of illegal Israeli settlers, and thus the most amount of violence in the West Bank. The main area used to be a busy Palestinian market street, but if you walk down it now you'll find it eerily quiet, and you'll only see Israeli settlers, who are often carrying automatic weapons. I found out that Israeli soldiers went through the area one night and welded the doors shut of over 1300 Palestinian businesses, whose owners were forced to leave. I learned that ambulances aren't allowed there for Palestinian emergencies, and that soldiers aren't allowed to interfere if a settler is attacking a Palestinian but are allowed to interfere if the Palestinian defends himself.
The remaining 800 Palestinians living in that area are given numbers for tracking purposes, and the remaining 3 businesses (run by incredible men I had the pleasure to meet) often have their only customers refused entry, for no reason, via mandatory Israeli checkpoints. I also learned that the current Palestinian market streets around that area are often bombarded with garbage, urine and acid from settlers living in apartments above.
This is all a lot. But even more affecting (I'm out of school so maybe that's the wrong word who knows) is that every Palestinian I've heard talk this week has talked about restorative justice and mutual understanding as a way forward. From giving Israeli's tours of their refugee camps to starting a nonprofit based around the two groups having meetings together, I've not heard one word of violence from people who have every right to feel that way. As the man I quoted earlier said, "We want to bring Israel to their senses, not their knees".
Of course, there's other amazing things to mention, like Israeli centers for non-violence and how leftist Israeli's have made public outcries for Palestinian rights, and how tasty the food is (oh my lord), and how crazy the driving is (oh my loooorrdd), but this blog is long. And I keep sneezing. Goodbye.
