Travelling the Wadi Rum Desert: Katy and our Bedouin Guide
High School Flashback: Basketball Clinic for Baqaa Girls
Arts and Crafts Mailed From Mom: Ban and Jeelan Kidnap Me
Carnivale at Baqaa: King Mohammed
Peace in Zaatari: New Girls’ Sports Program
And.. that’s all! Sorry for disappearing. Can’t promise I won’t do it again, but I am going to try to resume my good blogging skills this Eid vacation!
Bethlehem – Palestine
Palestine, my name is Palestine.
I carved my name on all the places.
The letters of my name talk to me and call me free.
And my name is letters, and letters are my name.
– Palestinian song, I am Palestine
My name is Selselbeel and I am 13 years old. My family is from Palestine [Palestine, land of Jerusalem and dreams; oh the land of Palestine, from which the Prophet ascended to the skies above; you who all hearts love]. Palestine means all hope to me.
We were forced out of our land, where we used to live, eat, and drink. Here in Jordan, we are looked at as Palestinians. They make us live in a disgusting environment (Palestinians and Jordanians). Here in Jordan, they make Palestinians pay fees and even in my country, Palestine, people do not live in safety. In my country, where the strong control the weak, the Israelis have always occupied us and occupied our homes. We enter our home by permit; we leave our homes by permit. One doesn’t live with security. They uproot orange trees from your sweet land, oh Palestine, and they change your name.
Oh Jerusalem, our beloved, whoever defends you is killed; they don’t remain alive. Tell us, why don’t we have freedom?
The elderly in Palestine are assassinated. When I hear my elders talk about Palestine, I become sad because I cannot go there and see all the places. They talk about Palestine and all the crises. (The Israelis) have named it after themselves; they’ve said it has been theirs since the beginning.
(They’ve done this) because they have no place, no country of their own to live in; they’ve done this because of the mountain, which they call Mount Zion. They used to break into our homes; they take from us the books of Palestinian history. There is no freedom for us.
Do you know anything about Palestine’s Nakba, which happened in 1948? And also (do you know) that the Nakba was the strong killing the weak? There was no security for us. They broke into our homes and took the men to prisons.
There were many victims. Among them was Handala (Naji Ali). He was 9 years old when we left Palestine. He was fighting Israelis with drawing and art. The date he was born is the Nakba, and his mothers name is the Nakba; he does not have a father or an identity. People named him Handala (bitterness). He was assassinated before the first Intifada (1987) and people still consider him a child until this time.
Another of the victims was Hassan Salama, who fought the Israelis with song, and destroyed their schemes. Those are some of the victims.
Here in Jordan, when I go to school, I see there are no wars like Palestine’s. And (I see that) the mother in Palestine, when she says goodbye to her children, feels like she will be seeing them for the last time.
(Here in Jordan), there is no one who cares about you, oh Palestine, who is my country, country of peace and olives.
Oh Jerusaleum, oh my city, oh child of burnt fingers,
Oh city that is full of sorrows,
Who will wash the blood out of the stones of your walls?
My country, country, of peace and olives.
Just over a month ago, on May 15, the Arab world observed “the Nakba.” This day is a rememberance of the 1948 war, the creation of Israel, and the exodus of Palestinian refugees who fled their homes. The Nakba means “the catastrophe” in Arabic.
Around the same time, a former Fulbrighter approached me with a project for her grad program at Georgetown. She is designing a curriculum for Washington, DC students that teaches history and current events using the stories of refugees. Would Baqaa’s youth have anything to contribute?
So Marah and I designed a program. As part of the Nakba rememberance, we asked students to write or draw about Palestine — to give us a depiction or a narrative that would help American students understand Palestine better. “What does Palestine mean to you? What does being Palestinian mean to you?” we asked them; then we let them present whatever they wanted to present.
Haneen and Bayan watch as volunteer teacher Khalid makes a banner (reads “Palestine” in Arabic) – for the Nakba rememberance at the Center
I want to share these drawings and writings with you all. First of all, because the students did a really great job. The artwork is beautiful; the narratives are compelling. I am eager to share their voices. But second of all, because I think its important and relevant to see how deeply these students love Palestine and how much they want to go back.
The students in Baqa’a camp are all refugees from Palestine – but they were born in Jordan and they are Jordanian citizens. It was their grandparents, or perhaps their parents as young children – who fled Palestine during the 1948 and 1967 wars. Yet their families have grown up in this refugee camp-turned-town, dreaming of going home.
I think I understand the Palestinian cause a lot… but even I was surprised at the depth of these writings and the sadness of these drawings. Sometimes its hard for me, like many other Americans, to understand the Palestinian’s insistence on the “right to return.” Its hard to grasp the deep connection to land — because I’ve never had a home taken from me – never had to live in a place I felt I didn’t belong – never felt I’ve been wronged with no apology or recognition.
The project made me sad a lot. The kids are so young to have these images and thoughts in their minds. But no matter how many times I told them, “irsmeelee ishy 7elu 3n filistin .. draw me something beautiful about Palestine,” students kept drawing sad pictures. Halfway through the program I had the words dababa, qatilu, and yehud (tanks, killing, Israelis) memorized.
So to start: two drawings from Haneen, an 8 year old girl.
She proudly showed me her picture, which broke my heart, then complied to my request to draw something beautiful and happy about Palestine.
“Miss, these are the Palestinians killed in their homes”
Translation: Haneen – Palestine – Jerusaleum <3 Freedom
Translation: Palestinian Flag – Palestine <3 Free
I can’t claim to have ever seen a full episode of Arab Idol… Yet, I have in the past days gained a new interested due to one of the three finalists: Mohammed Assaf.
This week as I travelled Palestine, visiting my friend Marah’s family in Nablus and a nearby village, Jen Safout, I kept hearing about Mohammed Assaf. He has an amazing story. Assaf, a young 23 year old Palestinian refugee from Khan Younis Camp in Gaza, has risen to stardom and is now the favorite to win Arab Idol.
Gaza has been under blockade by Israel since 2007. The land and naval blockade means that 1.7 million people are locked into the 62 square km Gaza Strip — one of the most densely populated areas on earth. In contravention of international law, Israel restricts Gazan’s imports and exports, access to the water, and freedom of movement. The blockade has crippled Gaza’s economy, resulting in an over 30% unemployment rate and 70% of the population is dependent on aid to survive. The blockade collectively punishes the Palestinians of Gaza, degrading their living conditions and depriving them of a chance to live normal lives.
To leave Gaza, there are only two land crossings – Erez Crossing with Israel and Rafah Crossing with Egypt. Until 2011, Rafah was closed and movement through Erez was limited to people granted permits through an arduous process that meets the Israeli criteria for an exceptional case. Now, Rafah is open to Palestinian passport holders – one access point for 1.7 million people to the outside world.
However, there are still stipulations. Most notably, the majority of men between the ages of 18 and 40 need to go through a time-consuming bureacracy and get a permit to leave. Often, this results in men being turned away from the crossing.
This is what makes Mohammed Assaf’s story so remarkable. He actually managed to leave Gaza — with the purpose of attending Arab Idol auditions in Egypt.
However, the border crossing took a long time and delayed him so much that all the audition numbers had been given out by the time he arrived. Yet he started singing in the hall, where a fellow Palestinian overheard…and gave Assaf his number. The rest is history – he auditioned, was accepted, and the judges/audience have fallen in love with him throughout the season.
Last night, we were sitting outside when our hosts heard his voice from the tv inside singing a famous Palestinian song… and we all dashed in to watch the performance. It was the first time I actually saw Assaf and heard his voice. He deserves all the hype.
All over Palestine, people were talking about him. The pride of the people – a different face for Palestinians – a symbol of hope.
If anything, I think the most important thing about his story is that Mohammed Assaf is just an ordinary guy —> 23 years old, handsome, charming, great talent.
Yet he is also from a place that is not well understood, nor recognized for its suffering. When it comes to Gaza, it seems like media forgets that the people… are people… seeking to live a normal life — not a group of terrorists nor statistics in a news report.
I doubt there is a better way to send my generation of Americans that reminder, “they are people, just like me and you” than the below video:
Needless to say, I will be tuning in with the rest of the Arab world tonight, hoping Mohammed Assaf brings one home for the Palestinians.
http://www.panarabiaenquirer.com/
Go check it out, immediately. Its an satire news site (like the Onion) but based on the Middle East. Its actually hilarious.. here are a few headlines to give you a taste:
– Obama Promises Syria Intervention Should Assad Use Death Star
– Israel to Gift Obama Villa in West Bank Settlement
– Fresh Middle East Crisis as Guyana Declares Jerusalem its Capital
– Man Wraps Up Successful Mission to Regain the Trust of People to Which He Gives 3 Billion a Year
Right? Classic. Again I’m reminded how clever satire is – how aptly and effectively it points out the ridiculous things about our society. Needless to say, their is plenty of room for that in US/Middle East politics!
A powerful mini-documentary about media activists in Homs, Syria.. if you have 25 minutes to spare, definitely worth a view.
Now whenever I see films like this, I think of Nadine – who a) was the first to share this on her blog and b) always says that a video is the best way to tell a story. People respond to videos, and we are reminded of the people’s faces that are often hidden behind a larger story.
“A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a statistic”
I stayed up late last night and finally watched “5 Broken Cameras.”
A really hard film to watch, but really important.
Its the best documentary I’ve seen to date that captures both a beautiful story — a young Palestinian family, a town committed to non-violence, and friends holding on to hope despite all evidence to the contrary — and the ugly reality of occupation and injustice.
This film is one that I watch and think I cannot believe this is real, despite the fact that I KNOW these things are real from both my academic study of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as well as the anecdotes of friends…and despite the fact that I know all the footage of this film is from the “5 Broken Cameras” of a Palestinian farmer, Emad, over the last 5 years.
I have that thought because seeing the hardships and heartache of the Palestinians caught on film makes me think, this is too painful to be real. If it was this painful and this real.. we would be doing something to change it. Ya ret, I wish we were.
Its easy to forget the stories of people, as the politics disinterests us or foreign affairs feels far away from our normal life. Documentaries like this remind us.
How can I pretend that you do not exist?
It would be almost as impossible as you pretending that I do not exist.
What can we do?
“Luckily” our government is great friends with the Israeli government. And not only that, we provide them with over 3 billion dollars in direct foreign assistance every year. So when we watch “5 Broken Films” and feel like we cannot help these people… that’s not true. We have, more than any other peoples, the ability to influence change that improve lives on the ground.
Israel cannot keep treating people like this; it is sickening and heartbreaking and wrong. Its our job to push them to change, or to stop supporting them.
Tell your officials that the American people want Israel to work for peace and stop violating the basic rights and dignity of Palestinians.
Images of Zaatari Camp, where I went with Save the Children for a week.
We walked through tents and caravans to tell people about the opening of the “Bahrain School” for the Spring semester.
We registered over 2,000 students for this school and the new school, “Saudi School,” that will open next month.
Then, we played with the kids. We had a huge “welcome” activity at the school; our group ran games, did facepaint, and helped the kids draw pictures to decorate.
Julie in Jordan! 
