Journey to Jenin

Jenin is a city in the north of the West Bank and has a rocky recent history. In 2002 much of it was destroyed during an Israeli incursion. Streets of houses were destroyed, some while their occupants were still inside. It's a city without much hope. Our Palestinian guide called it 'hell'. This was our destination for the day and seven of us set off in a servees we had hired for the long drive northward. Our Palestinian guide, T., asked for one of us internationals (all pale skinned) to sit in the front - 'it will make it easier at the checkpoints,' he said. One of the Norwegian girls volunteered and T. nodded happily - not only was she beautiful, she was also blond.

I don't know if it was because of T.'s precautions, but we did have a very easy drive northward, being waved through the checkpoints without issue. However, even when you are not stopped at the checkpoints, they are still disconcerting. I can't help but feel nervous when I see a young soldier pointing their large gun right at me - what if they should sneeze or cough and accidently pull the trigger? A ridiculous fear I'm sure, but it's also a ridiculous situation.

T. told us stories of his experiences growing up under occupation. Tales of being beaten by soldiers, arrested (he was mistaken for another man and eventually released once the Israelis realised their error) and harassed. He said to me that when he was younger he thought that once you are taken by the soldiers your life is finished - 'hallas' - but now he has come to realise that you've just got to live without worrying about it. If you die, you die, if you live, you live - you just need to take it easy. 'That's how it is in Palestine - you need to just take it easy! You can't change it.'

The landscape we passed over was epic: the pale rock, the hardy trees like old crones scattered amongst the rolling biblical hills - all sun-bleached and pale. Add to all this the heat and the blinding glare of the sun.

We stopped for a short visit to the American Arab University, which was where T. had studied. The campus was beautiful: many trees. Though this must mean that much water is also used. Once more T. regaled us with stories of studying here. As a liberal Palestinian he hated it there because the conservatism of the area affects the university. He said that if he so much as touched a female student in public he would be questioned. He also told us of once being kidnapped because he had been in a relationship with a Muslim student, which as a Christian he was not allowed to do.

We continued to Jenin.

There is a theatre in Jenin called the Freedom Theatre. This theatre was originally called 'Stone Theatre' and founded by a woman called Arna - an Israeli who had married a Palestinian man. In 2002 this theatre was destroyed but was rebuilt as the Freedom Theatre in 2006, thanks to international donations. For the children growing up in the camps of Jenin there is not much hope - posters of martyrs litter the street walls. But the Freedom Theatre works hard through its productions, classes and drama therapy to give the children an outlet for their troubles and also a chance to foster some hopes and dreams. This is especially the case for the girls of the camp, who suffer from the conservatism of the area. The theatre gives girls the chance to speak out and also to spend time with their friends, which they normally would not be able to do as at home there are chores to be done. The young man (an actor) who spoke with us about the work of the theatre emphasised that here, in the theatre, 'we don't ask anything of you, we don't ask your religion, this question is haram (forbidden). We are all equal.' Both women and men.

We walked through Jenin camp, much of which had been destroyed in 2002 and since rebuilt. Posters and flags were everywhere, but the streets were desolate: rubbish was strewn about and there was little activity. In the camp there are also no trees or plant-life - just road and building. Soon we had a following of boys and some young men: a group of foreign women, several of whom with blond hair, causes quite a stir in this are! They yelled out at us and laughed as they decided who would marry who (T. translated this part of the conversation). Sad to say, I wasn't very popular, but alas! With three blond haired Europeans standing beside me, I'm not surprised!

It was hot, very hot, and we couldn't drink any water in public due to it being Ramadan, so we were soon returning to the servees.

It was a long day, for the drive between Ramallah and Jenin is long. It is made longer because many of the faster (more direct) roads have been blocked by the Israelis so that all traffic must pass by their checkpoints. Road by road, street by street, the occupation continues to but up barriers.

I have just one snapshot for you today.

The Girl's Laughter

At the entrance to Jenin camp there is a large model of a horse - built by an Italian artist from scraps of cars that had been destroyed in aerial attacks by the Israeli army with their occupants inside (targeted assassinations). T. and one the Norwegian guys who had come on the trip were playing around and decided to try and climb onto it. T. was lifted and managed to pull himself up (not an easy feat! The horse was huge!) As he called out victorious I noticed a girl of perhaps 16 who had stopped to watch us. Only her face was uncovered. She watched us laugh at T.'s antics and talk happily with each other and she laughed also, though lifted her shawl to try and hide the bottom half of her face as she did so. I turned to her, caught her eye and smiled. She lowered the shawl from her face and smiled also, eyes sparkling with mirth. Everyone was moving to get into the servees at this point and so I had to leave, but before I left I waved to her and she returned the wave. As we drove away I saw her walking up into the camp; she paused at one point and turned back towards us before continuing on her way.