Palestine - first days

My flights over were uneventful, long, tiring but with no problems. I arrived in Jerusalem at about 3 AM on a Sherut (van type taxi) with a driver who said he would take me to my hostel. I guess “to” can be mean near but I would expect “near” to be at least in “sight of”. But I found it. The night was cool, very nice. My shared dorm room was stuffy and hot. I laid down, started to sweat and don’t recall the next five hours. Many youth were there from all over. My teammate arrived at 11 AM as agreed and got me home to Huwarra. We have a nice house, I hope I will be able to attach a picture. The internet has been down since I arrived.

This is my home is Huwwara, Palestine.

Friday, my first full day, was spent in the village of Salim. They expected trouble from Settlers when harvesting olive trees near the settlement. When we arrived, the villagers had already been turned back by the Israeli Occupation Force, aka the I. Defense F. The host family said, “yesterday they said we could pick today; today they say we cannot; they decide when we can harvest”. So we picked in a different grove and made an “illegal” crossing to do so. The Israeli settlement has an Israeli only road which Palestinians cannot use or cross. To legally access their olive groves they must travel a couple of extra miles to go through a check point. It sounds like they routinely choose to cross and hope not to be seen. I could write a long time about the hospitality and good natured patience of this family. One daughter was shot and killed in their village by a soldier yet they are able to say, “They are in charge; we must accept what they say.” That is not to say they like it. That is not to say they do not hope for change.
They fed us a nice lunch and supper. They spoke English better than most or so I am told.
We returned to Salim on Saturday. By 7 AM we were at the gated crossing that denies villagers access to their trees on the higher hills. Details of the day can be found on the MPT blog. Most got to cross; some were sent back as their trees were too near the illegal Israeli settlement.

No internationals were allowed to cross as the road was designated as a “closed military zone”. Men, women and children; uninspected trucks and tractors with trailers were allowed to cross but apparently 10 international peace activists present some sort of risk ... witnesses perhaps?

I had another delightful day of picking olives with a new family again very friendly and good natured. We illegally crossed the same road twice (internationals, men, women, and little kids) at an unguarded location. I need to qualify delightful. It was hot, dry, and dusty with burrs the stick to your clothes – physically it was less than perfect. Though it is inspirational to stand in the upper reaches of an olive tree looking out over ancient hills and doing what people have done since ancient times - probably doing it in a same manner. It gives reason for pause and ponder.
The delights are the people. Most try to communicate – they all know the word, “Welcome”; many know a few phrases; and a few are very fluent. So conversations seem possible with someone in every group. Today my new friends Ahmen (age 13) and Zeba (age 10) were a bunch of fun. Zeba’s English was good enough to determine her age, grade and plans to be a doctor. She was very interested in asking many questions of me. Ahmen took pictures for me, brought us some Sprite, and seemed to appear picking wherever I worked. He liked the word “FAST” as we raced to see who could pick up olives the quickest. I wonder what their lives will be like.

Ahmed is in the red shirt.

Zeba - part way up a small cliff.

The internet is working for us again. More tomorrow, I hope.

Fred