| Settlers, police and near miss |
[Nov. 16th, 2006|02:28 pm] |
Still without a clear place to pick in Sarra or Tel the group decided to join one of the IWPS team and three French accompaniers going to the village of Kafr Qudiem, which lies to the west side of the illegal Israeli settlement of Quedumim, inside Qualiquilya district. The settlement has encroched over the hill into the land owned by village farmers and this week these farmers were picking the groves close to and in somecases over the settlement fence.
Once we got there we split into two groups, with me and a fellow volunteer joining Ayam's family, who had already started picking further up the hill. Ayam’s land is inside the settlement and we picked with him, his aunt and two cousins. A playground encroached into their land on one side, the settlement houses came right up to the groves and one settler had built a chicken and goat shed inside the grove and had tied two large dogs to the trees.
The settler came out after we were picking for about an hour and spoke to Ayam in Hebrew. Due to language problems it was difficult for us to know what the problem was, but it seemed to be our presence that he was most annoyed about. After he left the family began picking again, but he returned about ½ hour later and more discussion began with the family. After about 10 minutes he left again and returned half an hour later with the settlement police. We were asked to show our passports and then told we had two choices: leave the land or be arrested. Apparently we were picking inside a ‘blue zone’ which meant the area was closed to Israelis and Internationals. The Palestinians could stay he said, but the presence of accompaniers created too much tension. He couldn't explain why people might be annoyed by our presence. I can only imagine its because they have less free rein to attack and intimadate the Palestinians whose land they are trying to steal.
We argued with them for about an hour whilst making phone calls to the house and Rabbis for advice. No one was very clear about what the ‘Blue Zone’ really meant. The police were then joined by both settler and settler security. They showed us a map showing the zones, which were in Hebrew so we couldn’t read them.
As neither of us spoke Arabic we had to get translation over the phone from the house team and pass the phone back between us and the Palestinians. The army then arrived, at which point the police said, ‘once you internationals leave, the army will hang the Palestinians from the tree,’ at which all the Israelis laughed.
We decided we would leave but would stay nearby in case of problems. We tried to get guarantees from the policemen who seemed to be in charge (he told us his name was Guy Carter - doesn't sound all that Israeli doe it?!) would protect the Palestinians should there be any problems with the settlers but they were clear that was ‘not their role’ and that couldn’t guarantee they would respond to problems. They also refused to give us a direct line number for reporting complaints. When asked how long they would take to respond to a complaint they said 3, 5 or 10 hours depending on what else they had to do.
We went down the hill and tried to keep in contact with the family by phone. We found another family further in the valley who we picked with some time and spoke to the Rabbis to try to get more advice and to arrange for accompaniment the next day. They asked us to get photos of the dogs tied to the trees as this was something that hadn’t been reported before. We agreed with the family that they would call us as they were finishing and we would go up to help them pack up and come down and take photos of the animals and the buildings. We did this and got some photos, although this once again brought the settler out of the barn. He began yelling at us as we walked down the mountain and we ignored his yelling. Unfortunately it seemed the donkey had gone lame and was refusing to carry the olives, which meant we had to wait with the olives whilst they took one bag at a time.
The settler then came down again and began yelling at the Palestinians, taking photos and pointing. Again it was difficult to know what was happening but the farmer seemed to be asking us to go down the hill. It seemed wrong for us to go all the way back and leave them to deal with the settler alone, at the same time it seemed it was our presence that was most aggravating the settler. They told us the police were on their way (obviously not very busy) and they were worried we would get arrested so we went someway down the hill where we could still see what was happening and an Arabic speaker from the house phone kept in constant contact.
The settler told them he would bring more settlers the following day and they would bring guns to prevent the Palestinians from going to their land. The police told them that if we came with them tomorrow they would arrest us and the two male farmers and that we would face 10 years in prison once we were deported.
After about half an hour the team of internationals in the Kafr Qudeim area was reunited and joined the family in carrying their olives down the hill. We walked with them back to their house. Until that day they hadn’t had any major problems so we were concerned our presence had actually made things worse for them. They said they still wanted accompaniment but were really worried for our safety. They didn’t want to be responsible for getting us into trouble with the Israeli officials. We agreed that people would come the next day, but it would be different people and that they would stay further down the hill if it appeared they would face arrest.
We made more phone calls to the house, Arik and to the DCO, all of whom appeared willing to try to make more arrangements to ensure the family’s safety. However we didn’t hear that evening what if any arrangements had actually been arranged, partly because of bad phone service and running out of credit. I spent a sleepless night worrying that we had actually made the situation worse for this family and that we had been unable to do much to rectify the situation. We did hear that two members of one of the other groups had agreed to go there, along with someone from the house team which made me feel better. I really wanted to go as well, but knew that if they saw the same faces again this could make the situation worse.
Tomoorow we are picking again in Sarra, once again by our beloved watchtower. The arrangements seem a little shaky but we at least get a lie in. It being Friday we can't get our taxi until 7am! |
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| Picking under the army's glare |
[Nov. 11th, 2006|12:58 am] |
We left for the Turabi groves at six, the tension in the taxi was really high as we drove up to the land in almost silences. Rhe land in split into two parts, a lower grove about 100 metres awat from the tower down the hill and the higher grove, literally next to the watch tower.
On the first day we picked on the lower land; the groves and trees were very over grown and the land really needs ploughing and clearing. The harvest was OK but nowhere near as good as on the previous land we picked on. We started picking immediately, quickly and in almost silence. Een the children were quiet, working alongside us rather than playing in the groves like other children we worked with. There was also tension between the family: those that were determined to stay and those who felt it might be better to leave.
Two soldiers came into the grove at about 9:30 whilst we were having breakfast. The family stayed sitting down with three of us while the other two went over to talk to the army. They asked what we were doing there and how we knew the family then told us to have a nice day and went away. After this the mood of the family changed everyone relaxed and chatted and we went from fast tense picking to a more chilled out, if a bit excited day. The rest of the day picking went smoothly until early afternoon when one of the harvest team went to the higher grove near the watchtower. At this point the soldiers shouted for her to leave and that no one was allowed that close to the watchtower.
After this the father of family became quite upset and wanted to leave, although his wife convinced him to stay. The family were reluctant to come back the following day to pick near the watchtower as they felt they would be sent away and the time and money spent getting to the grove would be wasted. They asked us if we would go to the watchtower to ask the soldiers if we could pick the next day. After some discussion between us and the family it was decided noy ask the soldiers, who would just say no anyway, and instead to phone the DCO (the army coordination office)and the Rabbis to try to get some assurance we could pick there, although we made it clear that we would pick with them regardless of the outcome of this. We also offered to cover the cost of the taxi up to the grove. We explained this would be paid for by our organization as they refused to take money from us personally.
By the evening there was some division within the family: the mother and daughters wanted to try and pick anyway, but the father was refusing to agree until we got some news from either the Rabbis or the DCO. We finally spoke to Arik at about 11pm, who told us the DCO said there would be no problem picking there.
We woke up early and told them the news we received the night before. We tallked about what to do if the army did come and tried to convince Hadim, the 4 year old son that he shouldn't come. Hadim had other ideas however and when crying didn't work, put on his shoes and sat in the taxi refusing to move. We decided with this attitude he might be an asset so took him anyway.
The family was extremely tense on the way up to the grove and once we got to the trees we were picking as quickly as possible. We had no contact with the soldiers for some time although they were clearly watching us through binoculars. They also started playing loud music and waving out the windows! At about 12pm about 5 soldiers came down to tell us we were picking too close to the tower and had to leave. The Palestinians were unwilling to talk to them and instead asked us to negotiate. We called the DCO and the Rabbis and showed them copies of the law in Hebrew. They told us we needed a permit and that this was a closed military zone which we disagreed with. They also told us that if they let us stay Hamas might see people were picking and use us as a cover to attack thre watchtower. I think even they didn't really have enough faith to keep up this line of arguing so we reverted back to buearactic wrangling - you need to show us this paper, no we don't you need to show us this one etc etc.
The negotiation went on for almost an hour, but after half an hour the Palestinians decided to negotiate and came over. He asked if the soldiers spoke arabic and they all said no - but undissuade he launched into an long argument that no one seemed to understand! One of the soldiers started to walk through the groves, looking at bags etc. We followed him around until he just gave up and rejoined the others. The rest of the family continued to pick with the other two volunteers. The soldiers were joined by three more, but it was eventually decided we could pick and all but three of them went back to the watchtower. They did check everyone’s Huwwias (but not the passports) and took two of them away (from the young men) to check. They were all returned.
By the time the negotiations had finished the family had picked all their trees and were ready to leave anyway. They were delighted to get their olives and that they had ‘won’ the argument with the army and we had quite a festive atmosphere on the way home!
Its such an amazing deeling when things go well. People came round to see what happened and they phoned family members to let them know they were safe. Everyone was chatting and laughing and it was such a relief to finally see the warm, funny and welcoming family they actually are once the tension had evaporated.
Before we left to join another family some boys came round to see us. They had heard what had happened that day and wanted to know if we could pick with them near the same watchtower. As we already had an arrangement for the next day we couldn't but agreed to try and go up the following day.
Leaving the family was really sad, we fely really close to them after the events of the previous couple of days.. all the tension and anxiety and the relif at things going well. I hope they can continue to get the dupport they need to really get that land working for them again, land they need to enable them to keep sending their daughters to university and give the rest of the kids the options and opportunities they never had themselves. |
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| Beit Hanoun |
[Nov. 9th, 2006|12:49 am] |
After spending one very relaxing day picking with Abu H and his family we came back to find out about the massacre at Beit Hanoun. We sat watching the news reports coming in and it was horrifying. If the news in the UK showed this pictures I can't believe there wouldn't be more of an outcry, young children screaming in pain, a baby killed, ambulance after ambulance arriving an an already overstreched hospital with horrific wounds. 25 people in total killed most from just two families. It was difficult to watch and the atmoshere in the room was once of horror and outrage. Watching this news and at the same time hearing the world constantly condeming them terrorism must only add to the isolation they feel. After all if this can happen with the world barely raising an eyebrow, what hope is there.
At 8 we left for the house of the family we were due to pick with the next day. The Turabis are a lovely family, poorer than others we have met but realy welcoming. Their land is next to an army watchtower and they haven't picked their for 6 years. Friendly as they are we could fell the tension of the family, who still seemed unsure they were making the right decision to pick and are obviously nervous going. I really hope it goes well tomorrow, if it does then I will feel like we have really helped at least one family in some small way. If not I think it will jusy add to the sense of how hopeless it seems and maybe the courage they are showing to go up there now will be lost. |
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| Picking in Nablus |
[Nov. 7th, 2006|10:34 am] |
After spending one morning picking in Haris because Nablus was too wet five of us set off for the village of Iraq Burin, West of Nablus. After meeting with our co ordinator, drinking lots of tea and a short tour of this beautiful vilage nestled in the Nablus mountains (not great for vertigo sufferers) we set off for a neighbouring village, Sarra who had been having problems with both army and the local settlers.
The nearest settlement, Quedemin, is large and expanding all the time, the surrounding outposts are, as usual, populated by fairly violent settlers who have been reguarly chasing farmers off their land. This year the Israeli high court passed a verdict stating that farmers had the right to utilised their land witout fear of initmidation from solidiers or settlers and that the soldiers had to provide security for those under attack from settlers, and that removing Palestinian farmers from the land did not constitute providing security. It also stated that farmers did not need permits to pick on their land unless it was a closed military zone, which had to be decided in advance, with clear reasons and in writing.
Although few of us have much faith that the army would actually comply with the law, we went armed with paper copies of the law in Hebrew, English and Arabic to give to farmers, soldiers and others who may not have that information. The general reaction of farmers was that they didn't feel they could use it, but it might help us to negotiate. After all it is difficult to discuss poiunts of law with people who are pointing guns at you, bashing you round the head or emptying your olive bags out.
We were picking with the family of Abu A, more specifically with his son, daughters, daughter in laws and grandchildren in a small grove that lay just down the hill from a watchtower and near a military road - which used to be the main Palestinian road to Nablus until the roads onto it were blocked and palestinians told not to use it. We spent the night before at their house as we had to be up and ready to go by six. We spent a lovely evening with family, although Cathi had to work hard translating as the gfamily didn't speak English. After dinner I really needed a cigarette so in the end asked quietly if there was somewhere I could go to smoke. Which led to lots of assurances that I could smoke anywhere and in the end the mother joined me for a cigarette - which seemed to suprised Abu Achmed when he got home!.
After playing with the kids we retired for an early night and just as we were off to bed Cathi and myself got dragged off by two of the duaghters into their bedroom. One asked if I had a spare cigarette, but I explained I had run out. At wich point she retrived a packet from her bra and handed them round, explaining that as a woman living at home she couldn't smoke, but her and her sister smoked out the window of their bedroom. This led to an hour more of smoking and gossiping about their love lives. Its definately an advantage to be a woman here - otherwise we would never get to do this!!
The road closure means that getting to the land requires a somewhat hairy taxi drive up the side of the mountain through the olive groves. Still we got there in one peice and had a lovely day picking. Although the family were jumpy everytime a jeep went past we had no problems in the end and got all the trees picked by 3.30.
Then it was back to the house for dinner. Half way through an old woman arrived to ask us for her help. We had to wait for our coordinator to arrive so he could translate what shewanted but we did get then settlers had been on her land and she wanted us to help her. Later we found out that the settlers from one of the new outposts had come and burt down her trees, which normally would provide her with 30 gallons of oil. She wanted to go to the land to clear ut the damaged trees and plant some more but was too scared. Last time she had been the settlers had shot at her. We agreed to try to help her, but given the obvious mental instabiliy of these crazty settlers we couldn't just leave the next day as 5 woman from England are unlikely to deter them. Although against our principles in general we asked if she would like to have police escort and she said she would. So we phoned the Rabbis for Human Rigts, and Israeli organisation which does deal with the Israeli security forces to see if they could arrange a day where we could be acompanied by the police. As the police are basically concerend only with te security of Israelis it still requires accompaniement to ensure they actually turn up and deal with the problems if they arise so we hope that we can arrange for this to happen next week and that we can accompany her and her family and help salvage what we can from this mess.
By the time we left to Iraq Burin for the next days picking we were pretty exhausted already, but spent a really nice evening gossiping with our coordinators daughters, again about there love lives and secretly smoking! |
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| Back in Haris preparing for the harvest |
[Nov. 5th, 2006|10:45 pm] |
Now back at the IWPS house waiting for the harvest to start. Even though most of the people are different it still feels like coming home and have really enjoyed my days here. Today we have the team meeting for the olive harvest which I think got everyone excited, although maybe a bit scared! Settler attacks and soldiers preventing picking seem to be happening alot more and there just aren't enough people here to fill the demand at the moment. Still we are 15 people so can cover three villages this week, which is good. I am going with my group out of Salfit to pick in the Nablus region where the problems have been the greatest so far.
Yesterday one of the IWPS women was picking in a Nablus village when a whole bunch of settlers came flying down the hill throuwing rocks at them. Apparently there was a settler gathering happening there, the whole aim of which seemed to be to harass the harvesters. Sadley there is little people can do when people are throwing rocks at you - especially when only two accompaniers are there. The police and army were called (there was a high court order earlier this year which confirmed the right of Palestinians to access their land and held the army responsible for failing to ensure this) but suprise suprise they refused to come.
I think the first village we are going to, Iraq Burin, we have to cross a military road, which soetimes they pass without problems, other times they are told they have to go via the checkpoint - a 20km trip, making it difficult to do even without ladders, sheets, donkeys and ulimatley olives. For the sake of crossing a one lane road that shouldn't even be there. So seems to be a negotiation issue more than anythng else.
Another group are going to Az Zawyia, where farmers are picking on the inside of the settler fence - here the problem is that settlers claim they have bought the land; in some places the olives have already been picked, in others the palstinians have now been asked to prove they own the land (rather than the other way round).
The whole thing is really complicated, even though there is this high court ruling the systems of permits, prermissions, gates and fences make it difficult to plan when land can be picked. Now the Israelis refuse to talk to the PA here is no joint communication, which last year provided information to farmers and advised on permits. Often permits are only being given to the name on the land deeds - often the patriarch of the family, which means they expect one 80 year old man to pick all his olives alone. Sometimes land is owned by people overseas who sharecrop with other families - they struggle to get permits becauser they can't prove entitlement to the land. Given the economic crisis this year and the fact it is a triple harvest, with trees heavy with olives, it is vital these faarmers reach their land and are able to sell their oil. For some it is the last thing between them and starvation.
The final village is Marda, where we have picked for the last two years, and which is a special place for those of us who have been before (although I won't be able to go this year). The wall has now been built and the village is now basically in a cage between the wall on one side and the fenced settler road on the other. Access roads are now gated and controlled by the army. Out of the two gates one is closed and the other is normally open, although the army can and do close it at will. They have permits to pick the other side of the wall, between it and the settlement, but it is unclear if the army is going to allow access and open the gate nearest to their land. For sure no vehicles will have access so it will all be donkey and foot. The army have also occupied a house opposite the village, the rest of the group will be picking on the lands around there.
So maybe things will pass without problem, maybe not. Right now we don't know because it hasn't stopped raining for 2 days so no one has been able to pick. Tomorrow I will pick in Haris (where the IWPS house is) in the morning, we then all go off to our new villages. Fingers crossed the rain stops and we can get out to pick. If everything runs smoothly we will pick for the day, chat, drink tea and enjoy the peace and quiet. Fingers crossed for this as well. |
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| Balata Camp |
[Nov. 3rd, 2006|10:52 pm] |
Set off with half of the group to meet with a contact in Nablus who had arranged for us join a group she was taking to Balata Camp - the biggest refugee camp in Nablus. The plan was then to have a turkish bath at one of the oldest Hammams in Palestine and to have a tour around the old city.
We hit the first checkpoint at about 9:30. The queue was quite long and we thought we might be there for a while. Embarrasingly the taxi driver wanted to drive through on the basis that foreigners were in his car. There was no disuading him, despite the fact that our policy is to not jump the queue at checkpoints, after all this racist system of letting non palestinians through quickly is theirs and not one we should go along with. Still this is a really difficult point to argue with someone who normally has to wait and has an opportunity not to. So we got through after 10mins, by which time i finally had enough of a signal to phone to Nablus.
It seemed things had changed at the camp. During the early hours of the moring a 15 year old boy had been killed by the army. He had run into the street after the mosque announced that his brother, one of the resistance fighters most wanted by the israelis and a hero in the camp, had been shot and killed whilst laying a booby trap for the army to prevent them entering the camp. The fighter had been shot, but not killed. The boy though, the only son not wanted or imprisoned by the Israelis was killed and we were about to arrive just as the deomonstration and funeral was starting.
We managed to get there before the demonstration began, but the atmosphere around us was extremely tense. We were taken into a house of one of the Balata families who often worked with internationals and who had agreed to give us a tour and history of the camp. It was decided that the tour was neither appropriate or aafe. Martyers funerals are emotional events, and this death had caused a lot of anger. Still we spent a few hours with the guides inside and talked about life in the camp, politics in Palestine, the problems facing refugees and the day to day realities of living under fairly constant seige.
A woman who jouined us had a fairly typical story. She had 11 sons, of which only 1 remained unhurt and at home. The rest had been killed, imprisoned or disabled by the fighting. One of her sons had received a sentance of 500 years in prison. She told her if she could be granted one wish it would be for her son to be let free. She had been able to visit him until three months ago until her visitors permit was revoked for 'security reasons.'
One of the guides had been living in Balata for 6 years and wants to be a journalist. He has already had articles printed in the electronic intifada and was riting his own blog. He also had visas to vist England and the US but has been unable so far to get an exit visa to leave Palestine. This is common for any Palestinian that has been imprisoned. A real problem given that so many young Palstinian men spend time in Iraeli prisons. Right now there are over 9000 prisoners in Israeli jails, many of whom are basically children. He told us that prison was hard, but also one of the most inspiring times of his life. He had the opportunity to meet some of the best Palstinian thinkers, read lots of books and learn about the history of Palestine and its resistance. he said it really made him think about his life and what role he should be playing in the liberation of Palestine. He decided he wanted to write, to tell peoples stories and now he is studying at university to be a journalist. I hope he makes it as Palstine needs these voices to be heard right now. |
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| Olive Presses, John the Baptist, Old Racecourse and "Disneyland Palestine" |
[Nov. 1st, 2006|12:00 pm] |
After meeting up with the tour group of British olive oil distributors, which included individual distributors, folk from Equal Exchange and a woman recreating an amazing journey made by the 'Musilm Marco Polo' Ibn Battuta in the 14th Century, we left Jerusalem and headed north to Jenin.
On the way there we made a stop at Sebastia, a village where some of the farmer co-ops are based. We were taken to visit their two olive presses, one an old press which uses huge stones to squidge the olives into a kind of pulp after which the pulp is put on plates and squeezed again making the oil drip out into troughs underneath. The oil is cleaned out and seperated and you can (and we did) just eat it straight from the pipe. The harvest is such a large one this year that the place was heaving with men of all ages and the smell of recently squeezed olives pretty intense. We then went to their 'new' press (21 years old), which is mechanical and apparently more efficient in getting the oil out of the olives and provides better quality olive oil. Still this one was a lot less busy than the first - apparently the farmers haven't yet been convinced of the advantages of the mechanical press and most still prefer to use the stone one.
On the way back from the presses we were asked if we would like to see the old church in the village. So we all got out to have look to discover that not only was it an 'old church' it was the burial place of John the Baptist, who had been born and lived most of his live in Sebastia. The church was built after his death as a memorial and had been restorded by the crusaders. Inside were loads of different very old statues, along with a big pile of old boxes and a table tennis table.
Despite its apparent historical importance this village is now firmly off the tourist and pilgrim routes and since 2000 few vistors have been, leaving those who based their livelihoods on the tourism with no income at all. This fact became even more surprising once we finished our coffee and were asked if we would like to look at the ruins in the centre of the village. From where we were sitting the ruins looked close and fairly small so we happily agreed to spend 15 minutes looking at them. 1hr and 15 mins later we had seen a roman ampitheatre, the remains of the first racecourse in the middle east, a colesseum, a crusdaer church (again) and the palace of the ruler of Samira (this village was the centre of the samirian Kingdom in whatever period this was a kingdom). So this village was a site of major importance for Christian, Jewish, Roman and Greek history. Yet no one visits and since 1932, when the last archeologists from Harvard who unearthed the site left, no one has done any more studies and the building are falling into disrepair.
The tour was led by a really knowledgeable but usually unemployed guide, Saleem who is also a teacher. Palestinian teachers have only been paid 1 and 1/2 months wages since the ending of tax payments and international aid to the Palestinian government, and for three months have only received one payment of $200 from the European union. Right now there is a national strike in Palestine so for weeks children have been without school, although some villages are organising informal lessons this means kids are out on the street all day, not good in areas where the army regularly arrests or harasses young boys.
By the time we got back to the main village news had got down to the olive groves that tourists had arrived and we were met with the souvenier shop man hurridly opening the shutters of his long closed shop. Please come in he said - everything is 40% off. We also had children arrive with bags of old coins, ranging from the Roman to the British mandate period that they had collected from around the ruins. So after buying some postcards, guide books and ancient coins we left this amazing village. If this place was in Europe, the US or anywhere else it would bustling with pilgrims, and world heritage money but it seems the outside world doesn't consider Palestinian history worth preserving or visiting.
By the time we had gone round Sebastia we were really late and really hungry so it was quickly off to Jenin to meet with the fair trade people. After just a few years they have got over 100 cooperatives as members, not just farmers but also an export company and a women's handicraft group and seem to be doing really well. They are hoping to get the FT mark, but before they can the Fairtrade Labelling Organisation have to develop standards. Apparently the Fairtrade Foundation are supposed to be pushing this forward, but so far have been unwilling to send their representatives out to the West Bank for security reasons. So..no Fairtrade mark yet, but they are getting another kind of label (I think IFAT but this could be wrong!).
As were so late we had a pretty short meeting and then went off to Nasser's (the head of the Palestinian Fair Trade Association) house for a huge and fabulous dinner.
We were then taken to the place we were staying for the next two days. We had been told it was a 'resort' a 'villa' and a hotel at different times, so no one was sure what to expect, but when we got there we realised that how ever it as described we would never have believed it anyway! The place was a huge park with fairground rides, handmade by the owner, a swimming pool, manicured gardens, dates trees and lives trees heavy with fruit and huge villas, one with a sculpture of St George slaying the dragon. There were water fountains, flower gardens, video arcades and individual cabins as well a huge function room. Even one the Palestinians with us was suprised - "is this really Palestine" he said. On the one hand really tacky but on the other a genuine haven away.
I wasn't up for another fair trade meeting so instead stayed drinking coffee in the resturant with Cathi. There we met a Palestinan group of families from jenin refugee camp who had come for a night out. one of the women, Wiam, spoke amazing English and we chatted to he for a while before they invited us to come with them to the fairground. Two rides, one on a witches hat thing and one on a big wheel were enough for us, but it was really great fun hanging out with families, with everyone screaming and laughing. I must admit I had a ' are these rides really safe - one was made out of what looked like old school benches - but in fact they beuatifully made and unlike in Engalnd would be turned on and off by demand. After returning to our luxuary villa we took advantage of the satelitte tele to catch up on the latest news - allowing the other Palestine back into our lives as we heard about the killings in Gaza - the worst since June.
We went to bed wondering what other suprises we had in store tomorrow - it certainly looked like another day of contrasts, with a plan to visit a bottling plant, an organic olive press, a harvest festival and the Jenin refugee camp before attending the olive harvest festival party planned for the evening. |
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| Summing it all up? |
[Oct. 23rd, 2004|10:35 pm] |
I'm coming to the end of my two-week stay here. I'm trying to round the experience up, but it's so difficult to do. Actually...as I sit in the courtyard writing this I hear shouts and bangs. My first reaction is to tense up - it could be gunfire, an army or settler incursion into the village. I'm ready to pull on my shoes, grab my camera and run into the street.
That's one way of summing it up. There is a constant, everyday awareness of violence in PAlestine. It's violence that can come at any time, any place, from the army or from the settlers. Sound bombs at 3am; sudden curfews; gun-toting settlers in the olive groves; wanton destruction of trees and buildings. I'm trying hard to imagine what it must be like to live here, what's the effct on an entire society when its members live permanently with fear and humiliation?
But we'vewritten quite a bit about the facts of Palestinian life in this journal. There's been another side to our stay here too.
Perhaps the most bizarre remark I've yet heard here was the one made by a Tappuach settler in the groves of YAsuf. He told us that the Palestinians would "cut out our intestines and dance on them in the street". Had the situation not been so tense I would have burst out laughing. WE reached the conclusion that the only threat the Palestinians posed to our intestines would be from constant overfeeding on rice, chicken, hummus, cheese, bread...and then n we really can't eat any more they bring out the pastries and fizzy pop!
The Palestinians have been unfailingly warm, kind and generous to us. There's never been a daqy when most or all of our group hasn't been invited to share food with the families we harvest with, or to stay in their houses.
Sometimes their hospitality reaches absurd heights. Like when a few of our group - Noirin, Maggie and Amy went for a post-harvest lunch with their family (despite the fact that it's Ramadan and the Palestinians fast all day, they always preapre delicious lunches for us!) Having eaten and stayed a couple of hours, Noirin said to the family that they would leave so that the family could sleep before preparing the Ramadan supprt. To her amazement, the entire family got up and cleared the room immediately! Noirin, MAggie and Amy stayed in bewilderment for a while before going out to see what was going on, only to be met by the family's protestations and gentle pushing back into the room. It turned out that the family had misunderstood Noirin to say that they should leave now so that Noirin, MAggie and Amy could sleep in their living room! But they didn't seem to think that this was at all an imposition!
The only times I have ever felt unsafe here have been at army checkpoints or roadblocks, or around ISraeli settlements. I'm sure Palestinians aren't all angels, but I can honestly say that even under severe provocation they have remained astonishingly calm abnd reasonable.
I'm sad to leave, and also afraid that when I return, I will see yet more settlements, Palestinian villages cut off from their groves by the hideous "separation wall" and a mounting desperation amongst the people in the West Bank. I feel that time is reallyl running short for a people whose love of life and sense of community is so strong, and so generously shared |
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| Jama'in |
[Oct. 22nd, 2004|11:04 pm] |
The last 2 days we've been picking with families from Jama'in, a small town of 11-12,000 people on the western side of the road between Ariel settlement and Zattara junction, opposite Marda. The reason for picking with these people is because their groves are situated right beneath the Tappuach outpost above Yasuf, and almost every day since the harvesting began these faremrs have been harrassed and intimidated by gun-toting settlers.
WE went back to Jama'in after 2 peaceful days' harvesting, to talk to a family whose son, Mahmud Hajali, broke his leg in two places because whilst out picking on Tuesday with his family, 4 settlers with guns appeared over the ridge. Being high up the tree he saw them first, and in his haste to get down and move his family tosafety he fell from the tree, breaking his leg. He had to be transported off the hill on a donkey before an ambulance could pick him up on the road.
Mahmud's family told us that they, and most of their fellow villagers, would no longer go out harvesting this year unless accompanied by internationals - they are too afraid of settler attacks. Last year one of Mahmud's uncles was beaten up so badly in the groves that he spent a week bedridden. Last week the settlers stole a horse and the entire day's harvest, as well as hurling rocks at the villagers. WE met another man, Mahfoud, from Jama'in whose hand was still bandaged as as result of the injury sustained that day.
The family have about 120 olive trees, all near the settlement of Tappuach, which would take 2 weeks to harvest. We can only accompany them for the few days that we are here. After that, perhaps the Rabbis for Human Rights can go out with them - but there is no certainty of this and the villagers need to know in advance in order to prepare for harvesting.
Mahmud's leg will take 2-3 months to heal. Because the Palestinian economy is so stunted by restrictions on movements and work permits, he has to work in the settlement of Ariel on construction of new houses. It's hard to imagine how difficult thios must be - working on the expansion of a settlement that is illegally on your land in the first place! Of course he will get no sick pay, so life for him and his family of 6 will be very hard until he recovers and can work again.
In fact, while we were waiting for a lift to the groves one morning we watched as two Israeli pick-up trucks came to collect workers from the roadblock obstructing Jama'in's exit to the main road. Palestinians often have no choice but to work in the ISraeli settlements or industrial zones situated on their doorstep. Any hope of a fair wage, or of sick pay, pensions or paid holiday is non-existent. It's a very feudal, colonial society - and the sheer barefaced racism we encounter every day really sticks in my throat. |
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| Permaculture in Palestine |
[Oct. 21st, 2004|10:25 pm] |
Permaculture in Palestine
In 1993m with the help of Ophaida, an Australian organisation, and experimental permaculture centre was built in Marda. As N, the Marda spokesperson explained to us, permaculture was seeen as a way of reviving Palestinian traditional methods of land management. They were re-learning how to fertilise their lands without the use of chemicals, how to produce compost, as well as seed saving and water recycling
In Nov 2000, 100 soldiers from the Israeli Defence Force destroyed this centre. They smashed the doors and windows, broke computers, and set fire to the nursery and compost site. THey then declared it a "closed military zone" and said that they would shoot anyone who went there. To this day, no explanation nor justification has been given as to why they chose to destroy this centre.
It is impossible for me to understand any reason why the IDF chose to smash up a permaculutre centre. As N said to the soldiers, he was willing to give them a key if they needed to inspect the place.
The project was funded and supported also by Canada, Germany and Holland. It was supposed to be a gift for the whole of the West Bank, a way for the Palestinians to develop their traditional, sustainable methods of land management.
Marda is overshadowed by Ariel, the biggest Israeli settlement in the West Bank. There are 21 settlements in this area, which is rich with water and olive groves. Not only do the settlements steal land and trees from the Palestinian villages, they also pollute the natural springs with their sewage. Marda's inhabitants can no longer drink from their spring, and uphill from the village you will find hte "sewage line". Whether wilfully or through neglect, this is where ARiel's raw sewage spills out onto MArda's olive groves.
I have heard some Israelis boast that the establishement of their country "made the desert bloom". Then I hear about the destruction of permaculture centres, see the burning and uprooting of olive trees, and the pollution of the water table that has remained clear and clean for centuries. I look at the settlements newly built all along the hilltops and the roads connecting them which carve through the valleys.
Never mind - I hear the ISraelis are growing carnations now in Gaza. |
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| Qalqilya - town of peace? |
[Oct. 16th, 2004|01:06 pm] |
Qalqilya is a large market town of 45,000 people on the western edge of the West Bank, and it serves as a center for another 50,000 in surrounding villages. WE visited it last week because it is completely surrounded by what the Israeli authorities tem the “security fence”. Actually – in many places this fence is an 8m high concrete wall which very effectively separates the Israelis and the Palestinians from even seeing each other, let alone talking or trading or socializing or any of the other things we in the West have the freedom to do.
It’s 12 miles to Tel Aviv from Qalqilya. But just 1km away is the first of the illegal Israeli settlements. The history of this town is one of co-operation with its Israeli neighbours – many people here speak Hebrew and the mayor tells us there existed a real trust between the two peoples. Families kept up good relationships with each other and the town was a thriving industrial center – textiles, painting, paper making, farming – where both Palestinians and Israelis worked together. There was also co-operation on environmental projects – solid waster treatment for example, and Palestinian and Israeli children would go on trips to Europe together.
Even national commemorative occasion were celebrated together – the anniversaries of the assassination of Rabin for example, and the Israelis would walk into town to do their shopping and sit in cafes.
Even after the first intifada this co-operation continued – but after the second intifada in 2001 all of this changed. A Palestinian terrorist from Jordan entered Israel as a tourist. Although his family had once lived in Qalqilya, he slept in Tel Aviv. After a month of being in Israel he carried out a suicide bombing. Despite the fact that Qalqilya had not hosted this man in any way, the Israeli army carried out collective punishment on the entire town. One night they entered and bulldozed an entire area at the entrance to the town – 55 shops and cafes were flattened and everything inside destroyed. There was no evacuation notice given. Seven electricity transformers were destroyed as well as the municipal buildings.
The residents of Qalqilya district this year have been given three days to harvest their olives. It usually takes a month. After the three days the olives will be free for the illegal settlers to collect. The wall, whose construction began in 2002, is 38km long in the district and between 60-104m wide. It does not follow the Green Line border between Israel and Palestine but cuts 25km deep into West Bank territory, and only 30% of the farmers are given permission to go through the three gates to their lands – even then they may not be allowed through on the days allotted for harvesting, and without their families to help they can do very little to bring in the harvest. According to Israeli law if land is not tended for three years the Israeli government has the right to develop it. The Israeli settlers are taking photos of the land cut off by the wall every 6 months. The 3 gates in the wall are opened for 10-15 minutes three times a day and other than that there is no way to cross. Women give birth at the gates if the ambulances cannot get through and so far 5 people have died due to the delay in opening the gates.
There are 23 illegal Israeli settlements here containing 53,000 people - 26% of the settlers in the West Bank. 19 wells pump 2.5 million cubic metres of water to the settlements and to Israeli land while 19 of the Palestinians’ artesian wells have been isolated by the wall – these wells have provided water for farming and domestic use to thousands of people. 105,000 olive trees have been bulldozed although some have been carefully preserved to replant in the illegal settlements.
There is now 65% unemployment in the town and 64% live below the poverty line. Poverty and desperation will push the Palestinians here into the arms of the right-wing parties – a situation feared by many of the town’s inhabitants themselves. Israelis are forbidden to enter the town now, and we were told by soldiers that it is dangerous. We saw no sign of danger other than the gun-toting soldiers themselves.
If the “separation fence” is for security reasons why are the Israelis stealing land and water from the Palestinians?
If the “separation fence” is for security reasons then why are the two peoples prevented from ever meeting each other although they have lived peacefully alongside each other here for many years? The organization “Mayors for Peace” consisting of 20 mayors from Palestinian and Israeli towns cannot meet in Palestine or Israel but have to fly to the Hague due to Israeli “security” restrictions. Thus a 3 hour meeting takes 4 days. |
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| Ramadan, broken trees and preparing olives |
[Oct. 15th, 2004|12:14 pm] |
Friday 15th October – Marda
Last night we had a fairly disrupted sleep so we are feeling pretty tired. After the destruction of the Olive trees last night people felt concerned that the army would enter the village as they had done following similar attacks. Two of us agreed to sleep near the door of the house so we could be easily woken if we were needed. It was quite difficult to get to sleep, partly because of worrying about the army and partly because of the continuous dive-bombing of particularly noisy mosquitoes, which seemed to be coming in droves through the broken window in the room. It turned out to be a quiet night – just as well, because the fast of Ramadan started the next day with the villagers awaking before dawn to eat breakfast (no eating, drinking or smoking from sunrise to sunset).
Today was to be our first rest day as almost none of the farmers are picking as they are celebrating the first day of Ramadan. However Jill, Maureen and Sam had agreed to accompany a family who were planning to pick and were concerned about the army challenging them, as they were one of the only families out. Noreen and Maggie were making a trip to the settlement, Ariel, as they were keen to get a better picture of what settlements were really like.
In the end the farmers never arrived, but instead we were invited over to our next-door neighbours house to see how the olives that weren’t to be taken to the press are prepared for eating. This was being done by one of the daughters of the family, who was about 11 years old and who spoke amazing English. Each olive had to be slightly squashed by a stone until it split partly open and then put into a bowl of water. The olives would then be transferred into jars filled with water lemon juice, salt, pepper; the lid would be screwed on tightly and left for one month. After this the olives would be ready for eating.
We stayed for about an hour with the girl and her sister, and managed to split about one half of the bucketful. After that we decided to go up to the road to see in daylight what damage the army had done the night before. we walked down to meet Nasfat by the trees – the Caterpillar bulldozer tracks were obvious, and the smashed remains of 8 olive trees (full of olives) and four fig trees were obvious. None of us, including Nasfat, could think of any reason why the army chose to do this, but it isn’t uncommon, especially now when the olives are heavy on the trees.
In the morning we walked down to meet N by the trees – the Caterpillar bulldozer tracks were obvious, and the smashed remains of 8 olive trees (full of olives) and four fig trees were obvious. The bulldozers had not only uprooted the trees but had then driven back and forth over them until they were completely broken. This would mean that the trees could not be replanted or saved. None of us, including N, could think of any reason why the army chose to do this, but it isn’t uncommon, especially now when the olives are heavy on the trees.
The destruction of the olive trees is not only an attack on the economic welfare of the Palestinians, but also on their cultural heritage. As N said, the largest of these trees was around long before the creation of Israel, and before the occupation of the West Bank. Whilst in this case the trees were completely destroyed in many cases uprooted trees are stolen and taken to be sold in Tel Aviv (at high prices) or are replanted in the settlements as though planting old trees in brand new ‘towns’ could provide them with some kind of history or link to that land.
After photographing and making notes the destruction of the trees we carried on up to Hares where we were meeting a member of the IWPS house who was taking us to visit a house at Mas-ha which has been completley surrounded by the 'security' wall. (see entry on 'The wall as Mas-ha")
After visiting Mas-ha it was a quick tip to he shops and then back to Hares to write a report on the Olive trees and fight each other for access to the computer! It was almost impossible to find transport back by the time we were ready to leave as everybody was at home breaking fast for the first day of Ramadan, but we managed to get a car to come and take us back to Marda.
Noreen had somehow managed to notice a small restaurant in the village, and after some discussion it was decided that we would go for a meal there rather than cook at home. We were welcomed really warmly by the family who owned the restaurant (which was actually more of a shop with a table in it). We were brought coffee and chocolate and Sam once again had chance to practice her Spanish as this family had also previously lived in Venezuela. We were then brought what everyone agreed were the best falafel that anyone had ever tasted, a huge bowl of hoummous and bread, followed by stuffed vine leaves, stuffed courgettes and yet more coffee and chocolate. To our total amazement when we came to pay we were told that this food was their present to us for Ramadan, and despite our protests the family refused to take any money.
From the restaurants we walked up to Marda’s olive press where the villagers take their freshly picked olives to be turned into oil. Each family takes their bags up to the press where they are weighed and poured into the machine. In return they are given the equivalent weight in oil, which is poured from a spout at the end of the machine into 2 litre bottles.
The smell of olive oil (mixed with the ever present smell of tobacco!) was over powering, as was the noise. Men from the village work throughout the night to process all the olives and bottle up the oil, with olive press running 24 hours a day through out the harvest.
Tomorrow we will all leave Marda and head for the next village in our schedule, Yasouf, which is likely to be a lot less quiet than Marda as it borders Tapoor, a settlement of very ‘religious’ Jews who regularly attack the Palestinian villages and olive groves.
I think the whole group is feeling side at the prospect of leaving Marda. We have all been amazed and touched by the warmth and generosity of the families we have worked with and indeed of almost everyone we met in Madar. Most of the group has been ‘adopted’ by one or more families so hopefully we will all be able to return for at least one visit before we go back home. |
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| Marda - olive trees smashed by soldiers |
[Oct. 14th, 2004|04:44 pm] |
Olive trees smashed
After another really enjoyable day out in the groves with our host families, we were cooking dinner in our house when a few of the village youths turned up to tell us there were soldiers on the main street and asked us to come out with them. Sam and Cathi went out to find out what was happening, and after a few minutes N, peasant union co-ordinator, turned up in his car. With the rest of the team back in the house ready to take messages and be present in the village if there was an army incursion there, Sam and Cathi drove down to the main street with N. Of the three or four exits from the town, only one now remains unblocked by the army. So we drove out and back up the main street. N seemed nervous – it was his grove that had been affected, and he kept telling us the situation was dangerous. We asked him what he would like us to do if there were army still there and he didn’t want us to get out of the car or talk to the soldiers, but just to observe what was happening.
By the time we got to the groves, the army had gone, but in the darkness we could make out the uprooted olive trees in the headlights. When we got back to Marda, we asked N to call us or knock on the door if there was any more trouble. He told us that often, after this kind of incident, the army entered the village late at night, setting of sound bombs and announcing a curfew through the loudspeaker. |
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| Olives in Marda |
[Oct. 14th, 2004|12:29 pm] |
I’m fifteen feet up, cradled by the branches of an ancient olive tree and with a fine view to the hills all around, dotted with villages.
The branches are heavy with purple olives and the villages are trying to get most of the harvest in before the month of Ramadan starts and they begin fasting from sunrise till sunset. Imagine working all day under the hot sun with no food or water! The olives are hard to the touch, but dig in a nail and the oil oozes out. The trees are beautiful, some are hundreds of years old and they are tended with love and care, as are the rocky terraces in which they are planted. The soil is red here and there’s not much greenery but if left untended the terraces soon become choked with thistles and prickly shrubs. The trees are a silvery colour – the bark is pale and the leaves silvery-green. Everything is dusty and we’re soon also covered in dust.
Reaching out to another branch I squeeze off the olives from the ends and they drop to the tarps laid out below with a sound like fat raindrops falling. The annual harvest from each tree is worth about 200 shekels – about thirty pounds sterling – a considerable contribution to the village’s economy which is so stunted by the restrictions imposed by the occupation. It’s slow, steady work, and whole families come out to do it, laughing and bantering in quick Arabic. I look over to the opposite branch to see a grandmother balanced gracefully amidst the topmost leaves – she must be in her 60s, dressed in a traditional Palestinian black robe adorned with embroidery, headscarf and beautiful gold earrings. She climbs trees like a teenager!
I’m amazed at eh way the family works – from 6.30 till 11.30 without a break. By the time we stop for lunch I’m really hungry. The family shares delicious food with us – potato, cauliflower, hummus and bread, and we manage a conversation in Arabic, English and much laughter.
By the time we get home in late afternoon I’m hot and dusty. Tired, too, but in a relaxed way, and sitting on the steps of our house in the late afternoon sunshine, looking out to the hills on the horizon, I feel very satisfied that we’ve been a part of this village’s life, even if only for a few days. |
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| Olive Picking in Madar |
[Oct. 13th, 2004|05:44 pm] |
A team of 7 olive pickers from the UK joined others from Austria, Germany, France and Switzerland arrived in the village of Madar at the start of this week in order to support farmers who have olive groves close to the main road to or the fence around Ariel (large Israeli settlement in Salfit region of the West bank.)
MARDA
The village of Marda is located in the Salfit region, in the the middle of the West Bank. It is currently home to 2000 Palestinians, a further 2,000 now live outside of Mardar. Before the first intifada many of the villagers worked inside Israel, they can no longer get the permits needed. Many others worked overseas in the gulf states and Venezula, but since the gulf war a large number of these workers have now returned. This has meant a large level of unemployment within Marda, with many families relient on the olive harvest as their only form of income.
MARDA UNDER OCCUPATION
The village has no been virtually closed off from other villages, with all but one exit now closed by roadblcs. An agricultural road was recently built to allow tractors to reach the olive groves. This was closed by the IDF (Israeli Defence Force) about 1 month after completion.
In orsder to get to Nablus, the nearest large city and hospital people have to cross checkpoints. in recent weeks Nablus has been declared a closed military zone, now no vehicles, including ambulances are able to enter Nablus.
Many nights the army enters the village, setting off sound bombs and occasionally enter houses. There have been cases of 11 and 12 year old boys being detained by the Israeli army and held for a number of hours and/or beaten and questioned. 4 people from the village are currently detained by the Israelis. |
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| Leaving Jerusalem - Jill |
[Oct. 12th, 2004|02:00 pm] |
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Left Jerusalem today to travel to Marda where we are picking, but not stopped at checkpoint - where there are several armed soldiers. We reached the wall - cutting through communities and in places running down the middle of the road - just under constuction. After arriving at the IWPS house in Hares we travelled on to MArda where we are staying in the town's council building. In the evening we met up with IWPS. |
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| Introduction to this Journal |
[Oct. 11th, 2004|02:06 pm] |
Hi
This is the journal of a group of 7 British women who went to Salfit region in the West Bank to support Palestinian farmers in picking their olives.
The entries have been written by various people in the group - not just me (sam)and hopefully will give you an idea of our experiences and thoughts while we were there. Some entries are personal, some entries are factual and are all absolutly our own!
Coming to Palestine has been quite an experience for all of us and we hope you like reading this journal. One thing many Palestinian farmers did tell us was that our being there and offering solidarity to the Palestinian people was really important to them, often they said they would not pick without internationals.Maybe next year one of them could be you?
If you read this, find it interesting and would like to find out more then please look at the following websites: |
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