Less than a week after leaving Ramallah I am already missing Palestine. The experience was not quite as I imagined it would be, but in many ways, it was better. There are no words to quite capture exactly how much I learned, experienced and came to cherish during my time in the West Bank this summer. What I did learn, however, is that life is often more complicated that we could ever imagine and more simple that we could ever give it credit it for. This is one of many contradictions I came across these past few months in Ramallah, a land that seemed to be filled with contradictions.

More than just contradictions though, this summer was not only about learning the challenges and struggles that others faced, it also called for a heavy dose of introspection into my role as both an observer and as an Iranian-American woman living and working in the West Bank. My time in Ramallah challenged me to question my own preconceived notions about the conflict, the people and the culture I chose to become a part of for a few months over the summer. As a die-hard idealist, I was presented with the possibility that a peace where everyone could walk away happy might not be possible, not because the will does not exist, but because peace is and continues to be defined in more ways than one could possibly fathom, because peace looks different to each person sitting at the negotiating table and because sometimes we cannot erase damage that has already been done. Nevertheless, as my conflict resolution professor always says, where there is conflict, there is opportunity.

My conclusion after spending the summer in the West Bank is not that peace is not achievable, quite the contrary in fact. And while the peace that many of us “idealists” hoped would be possible may not necessarily be an option any longer, I continue to believe that peace is still attainable -- that the Palestinian people along with their international and even Israeli allies will continue to advocate until they can guarantee that their children won’t be born and restricted to living in refugee camps, that they will someday be able to visit family and friends in Jerusalem without a permit, that they will no longer fear the settlers occupying their neighborhoods and that one day the world will recognize the strength and resilience of the Palestinian people not because they view them as victims, but because they view them as pillars of perseverance.

The main objective of this summer was to help tell the story of the individuals I encountered so that the world would be able to have a better sense of what is really happening so far away from the “bubble” that so many of us live in -- and if even one person can walk away after reading these blogs and feel as though such enlightenment has occurred on some level, I will know the most important work has been done.

I leave you now with a small glimpse into one of my most favorite aspects of being in Ramallah: the call to prayer, which is recited on a loud speaker five times a day in line with Islamic tradition. The video is shot from outside of my apartment in Ramallah.

Hafez Omar is one of seven visual artists that helped to found Al-Mahattah Art Gallery in Ramallah. The dream team of seven started with a vision for a place where artists of all backgrounds and specializations could come together in the name of art. The gallery began a little over a year ago and has since grown into a hub of artistic culture that is slowly but surely educating both Palestinians and those in the surrounding Arab countries about the value of art in civil society. And while Hafez acknowledges that the gallery has been receiving considerable international attention in recent months, he argues that the “focus is not on the quality of Palestinian art and we are fighting strongly against this.” Wanting Palestine to hold a place on the art map of the world, Hafez states that the objective in achieving such a spot is to be recognized for the quality of art and not featured because of the hardship of their circumstances under occupation.

In the short time that Al-Mahattah has been open, Hafez notes “the gallery has made significant contributions to helping Palestinian artist improve their work through workshops, selling their art, and providing exhibitions both locally and abroad.” Moreover, through its public exhibitions it is providing Palestinians with a new and innovative way to both express themselves and to get their message out into the world.

While no one living in the West Bank would likely argue that ending the occupation is a primary priority, many would argue that equally important to ending the occupation is continuing to build civil society. Al-Mahattah is doing just that -- it is providing a way for Palestinian society to progress and to communicate to the world the social, economic and political reality on the ground using art as the peaceful medium.

 

The past week has been filled with deep contemplation as to whether or not to write about my experience at the refugee camp in Jenin – mainly because it feels like every time I visit a new place, I return with only sad stories to tell. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that despite the hardships (this word seems like a vast understatement) that the people of Jenin Refugee Camp have undergone, the residents of the camp represent a unique glimpse into the power of human resilience.

Upon entering the camp the first image you see is a large horse – a very artistic entrance into a seemingly grim place. But like many images here, what you see is not necessarily all there is to the story. As I came to learn, the horse is made up of scraps and pieces of cars that were blown up when the Israeli army invaded in 2002. And when you look at the right side of the horse, you are able to make out a sign that reads “ambulance” indicating that no vehicles were off limit.

The horse that is made out of scraps of vehicles that were blown up by the army during the 2002 invasion

The horse that is made out of scraps of vehicles that were blown up by the army during the 2002 invasion

As we continued our trek into the camp, I suddenly became staunchly aware of my own preconceived notions of what a refugee camp looks like. I imagined tents pitched everywhere, gates surrounding the compound, kids running around in scrapping clothing – basically everything you typically see on television depicting the worst conditions possible. But this camp was certainly not that. The compound where the camp is located is filled with buildings that at first glance resemble those found around the rest of the city, except they are all of almost the same identical design and are one of two colors: white or cream. The white buildings represent the buildings that have been in place since the camp was first built in 1953 while the cream buildings represent the buildings that were rebuilt after they were destroyed in 2002. The majority of buildings found in the camp are cream.

The cream buildings were rebuilt after the army leveled them in 2002

The cream buildings were rebuilt after the army leveled them in 2002

We were welcomed almost immediately by the Popular Committee for Services for Jenin Camp whom offered us warm drinks and a private showing of “Jenin Jenin,” a documentary capturing the events and testimonials of the Battle of Jenin in 2002. Although we were not able to watch the full documentary, we watched enough to see gruesome pictures of Palestinians that were caught in the cross- fire of the battle. These haunting images, which reflect real life, were the ultimate testimonial of the death and complete destruction that the camp endured only seven years ago. Moreover, the children that were present during the battle and able to survive, were severely traumatized and as the pictures they began to draw started to reflect the violent experience they had undergone, the long-term effects of the invasion slowly began to set in.

Welcome sign in the "Popular Committee for Services in Jenin" office

Welcome sign in the "Popular Committee for Services in Jenin Camp" office

Unfortunately, due to time constraints we were unable to delve into the history of the camp as much as we would have liked; nevertheless, it was important to me to be able to walk around the camp, even if only briefly, in order to get a better sense of the community that resides there. As we walked around the camp, we came across a group of three boys playing soccer in the street. They were not at all bothered by us (except of course for me to snap a quick picture of them) but rather fully engaged in their game of soccer. People continued to pass us on the streets with the determination of reaching an unknown destination written on their faces.

In more ways than one, the camp appeared to be a fully functioning community. And in more ways than one, one wondered how the residents have sustained a life like this for so long? All of the camp residents, close to 11,000 of them, cannot leave the camp without giving up the right to return and so they remain…..they stay in this camp waiting for an end to the occupation….for a peace to be brokered….for a chance to begin their lives once again.

I promised to offer a silver lining in this blog and so here it is: the people of Jenin Refugee Camp have endured more than I could ever attempt to relay, but on the other side of the horrific battle, the people of Jenin survived – they continued on as so many people do after serious conflicts and most importantly, they rebuilt. Of the 450 homes and business that were leveled during the battle, the people of Jenin Camp were able to replace nearly every building.

This does not in any way mean that their struggle is over or that living in a refugee camp is a sustainable way of life, but what it does mean is that the power of human resilience continues to shine through even in the darkest moments of history and offers a beam of light that refuses to be put out.

Kids from the refugee camp take a break from their soccer game to pose for the camera

Kids from the refugee camp take a break from their soccer game to pose for the camera

Avenue, a restaurant located in the Al-Masyoun area of Ramallah, is where Alaa Abu Daqqa used to be employed, that is until the owners suddenly decided to stop paying him his salary. Alaa arrived from Egypt more than 2 years ago after one of the restaurant owners made special arrangements for him to come to Ramallah specifically for the purpose of managing Avenue restaurant. But only a month into the job, Alaa started to realize that the promise of a 3,000 NIS monthly salary and paid housing might have been too good to be true. While the owners did end up paying for housing, they neglected to pay Alaa his full salary for the first five months of employment and were able to get away with only paying him a few hundred shekels here and there.

After five months, Alaa finally began receiving his full salary but, unfortunately, it was not for long. After the owners returned to giving him arbitrary and inconsistent payments, Alaa finally made the decision to resign in May 2009. Resignation was a more than a difficult decision, it was also a big risk for Alaa because at the time, he did not have another job lined up and, more importantly, the owners had threatened to send him back to Gaza -- where he is originally from. Without special permission, Gaza residents are not able to visit, much less live, in the West Bank so the threat of having to go back to Gaza meant that Alaa might not be able to come back to Ramallah. Fortunately for him, the threat never amounted to action and he was able to resign without being deported. He was not, however, able to collect the remaining amount of money owed to him by the restaurant. The outstanding balance owed to him comes to 10,000 NIS.

When Alaa demanded his remaining salary, the owners tried to negotiate by offering to give him 2,000 NIS and asking him to sign an agreement stating he would not seek any further compensation in the future. Not willing to take an 8,000 NIS loss, Alaa refused. Soon after, Alaa came to the DWRC and worked with Mohammad Amarneh, one of the lawyers here, to officially open a case in his name to begin the process of documenting the injustice.

Alaa Abu Daqqa (left) seeking legal consultation from DWRC lawyer Mohammad Amarneh (right)

Alaa Abu Daqqa (left) seeking legal consultation from DWRC lawyer Mohammad Amarneh (right)

It is not likely that the case will be resolved anytime soon, especially as the restaurant continues to deal with its own issues of debt; however, when asked why he decided to pursue his case despite the gloomy outlook, Alaa replied by saying that regardless of the outcome it was important to him to make sure that what happened is documented and that action in some form, is taken.

He walked in from the blazing sun and quickly wiped his brow as sweat continued to trickle down the side of his face. I asked him if he would like to join me in the kitchen as I was just finishing breakfast. We sat down and as I continued to eat I asked why he had not joined us last night, he looked at me, paused and said, “While you guys were having fun at Zan last night I was busy dealing with the [Israeli] army.” I stopped eating and looked up at him -- my eyes filled with anticipation, curiosity and a definite dose of fear as to what would come next.

My friend, Shadi, is from the village of Bi’lin. Bi’lin is a small village west of Ramallah that, like Ni’lin, is well known for its weekly demonstrations. Every week without fail demonstrators come from all over the world to protest the wall and the occupation and so in response, Israeli forces have stepped up their resistance efforts to the protests. For the past few months soldiers have consistently rolled into Bi’lin around 2 AM and gone door to door looking for people (mostly men) that are on their list to arrest for their participation in the demonstrations. Ma’an Agency, a local newspaper, recently reported that Israeli soldiers are notorious for arresting people in the early AM hours in Bi’lin without giving their families any information about where they are being taken or even who they can contact to follow up. When Shadi spoke of an arrest that took place only a few weeks ago, he referred to it as a “kidnapping” -- which given that no information is given to the families and that the men are literally taken from their beds, seems like an appropriate term to use.

Shadi goes home to Bi’lin every weekend to participate as an active member of the Bi’lin Popular Committee Against the Wall and Settlements and to help stand guard for when the army inevitably arrives. His committee helps to organize and collect money for those that are arrested since many of their families cannot afford the high cost of bail (typically around $250 -- $1000).

There is a strong movement inside of Bi’lin that is supported by Palestinians, internationals and even some Israelis. These demonstrators continue to gather every week despite the army shooting multiple canisters of tear gas at them (at times up to 36 canisters consecutively) and hosing them with waster water (which triggers ones gag reflex upon contact). I was privy to one of these demonstrations on a recent trip I took to Bi’lin last Friday. While I decided to stay back as the crowd marched down the hill and toward what I refer to as the “front line,” I was able to see and hear them chanting “One, two, three, four -- occupation no more!” After only a few moments we began hearing the sound of the tear gas canisters being shot and saw them landing a safe distance away. What I couldn’t figure out though, was why the tear gas was being shot off to our right when the crowd was directly in front of us? We quickly came to learn that a few boys that were standing far out in the field were throwing stones and to address this, the army decided to shoot tear gas directly at them. The boys were somewhere between 10-13 years old.

Father of two walks alongside demonstrators that are making their way to the front line

Father of two walks alongside demonstrators that are making their way to the front line

Soon after the tear gas landed, even though it was quite a distance away from us, people around me quickly began covering their noses and mouths because the wind was slowly carrying the heavy smell towards us. As I started up the hill my nose began to sting as though I had just inhaled a chili pepper and if this was the sensation that diluted tear gas caused, I shuddered to think what the tear gas must be like when it lands only a few feet away. I continued up the hill and paused to turn for a brief moment only to see the soldiers unleash the bright turquoise colored waste water on the crowd. The stench of this waste water, which as I mentioned more or less causes one to gag upon contact, sticks to your skin for at least three days after you have been sprayed and your clothes even longer. The waste water dissolved the crowd quite effectively as most people cannot breath, stand or even think after they have been sprayed because the stench is so horrible.

Young kids trying to avoid inhaling the sting of tear gas from the demonstration

Young kids trying to avoid inhaling the sting of tear gas blowing in from the demonstration

And as horrific as such treatment sounds, it was not even the worst part. The most heart breaking part about such treatment is the effects it has on the people living in Bi’lin. There is no way to protect their homes, and consequently their families, from inhaling the toxic chemicals every week. The wind can blow the tear gas from the wall all the way up to the village and with temperatures being so high in the summer, shutting windows is not an ideal option either.

The demonstrations will likely continue so long as the wall continues to be built and the occupation continues to exist. The demonstrations are one way that the people of Bi’lin, and those in the international community that stand in solidarity with them, can speak out against what is happening and attempt to make a difference.

After several attempts at trying to schedule an interview with Baseme Bashir, I was finally successful and it was apparent within the first ten minutes of the interview that the wait was certainly worth it. As Baseme began telling me her incredible story, her drive and dedication to achieving justice not only for herself, but for those that are also in a similar situation, became apparent.

Baseme Bashir first came to the DWRC after her position as a Program Manager at a well known hydrology company decided to cut her job from full-time to part-time while she was away on vacation claiming it was for budget purposes. Baseme responded by attempting to set up a meeting with the company to negotiate the decision upon her return, but to no avail. Mrs. Bashir worked for Palestinian Hydrology Group for over 6 years and brought with her a wealth of education including a BA in civil engineering, an MA in water engineering and she is also currently seeking her MBA all from Bir Zeit University.

A well established water expert since 1994, Baseme refused to take the decision by her company as final and decided to take matters into her own hands through seeking legal advice. And although she is not hopeful that the organization will reverse its decision anytime soon, she states that it is no longer about her position but rather about fighting the overall injustice that took place both in her case and in other similar cases as well.

Baseme continues to stand as a pillar of strength for Palestinian women, particularly those in the professional sector and after watching her interview, it is obvious that her story is one of empowerment, independence and most of all, inspiration.

One such problem is the fact that there is no “legal” way to formally declare a union. The closest that unions can come to being recognized officially is to obtain a slip of paper from the Ministry of Labor (MOL) claiming that they have attended a meeting and see the [union] efforts as legitimate. Moreover, this slip of paper is the only way for unions to open up a bank account because again, although no laws stating that this letter provides any kind of formal legitimacy exist, without the golden ticket, banks can and will outright refuse to open a new bank account.

Nevertheless, many in the union world continue to be hopeful about what unions will be able to do in the absence of union laws. A few even remain hopeful that the Ministry of Labor will bolster its efforts to push for laws governing unions to be passed into legislation – the likelihood of this happening, however, is still to be determined.

I thought it had to be a dream, but really, it was more like a nightmare. It was only a few weeks ago that I visited the small villages residing in the hills of southern Hebron when I thought I had really “seen” the occupation – but it wasn’t until my more recent trip to the city of Hebron that the term ‘occupation’ suddenly gained a whole new meaning. The most startling aspect of Hebron is that the occupation is in absolutely clear view, there is no denying it and no attempt to even hide it. I could try to describe the situation to you but really, in this case, the facts speak for themselves: In the heart of downtown Hebron lies an illegal Israeli settlement where about 500 settlers reside. Over 1,000 Palestinian shops have been closed due to “security” reasons and have since not been allowed to re-open.

The city has been divided into 2 sections: H1 and H2 with Israel controlling one side and the Palestinian Authority controlling the other. Adjacent to the street that divides the city is another street that, although it falls within Palestinian jurisdiction, was shut down by the Israeli army trapping 40 Palestinian families inside of a man-made barricade. The families must pass through a check-point like crossing in order to leave their street, and when the crossing is closed due to “security” reasons, the families are unable to leave – even to get food. Our tour guide, a local Palestinian, Ahmad, told us of times when friends would literally carry food to the families and hand it to them because the crossing would be closed sometimes for weeks at a time.

Against the backdrop of the two boys is the checkpoint families must pass through to get to their homes

Against the backdrop of the two boys is the checkpoint families must pass through to get to their homes

The Ibrahimi mosque, one of the holiest mosques in the region, was more or less confiscated by the Israeli army in the mid 90′s after an Israeli settler opened fire on a group of Muslims praying inside killing close to 30 people. After that incident, Israeli security cameras were installed inside and now there are checkpoints for all Muslims to pass in order to get into the mosque. Close to 65% of the mosque has been turned into a synagogue and in the very room where Ibrahim’s tomb lies, you can actually see through iron bars into the synagogue. There are two entrances into the divided building: one to enter the mosque and one to enter the synagogue; the synagogue entrance has no checkpoints.

The juxtaposition of an occupation against an otherwise vibrant city leaves me struggling to find words to describe it. The trip to Hebron has by far been the most eye opening, heartbreaking and saddening experience I have had yet here in the West Bank. Perhaps one of the most horrendous sites we witnessed was walking down the streets where settlers live above Palestinian markets….the Israeli army eventually was forced to place a wire fence above the market to catch the bricks, bottles and garbage that the settlers were (and continue) to throw down on the Palestinians walking by.

Three days after the trip I am still haunted by images of the Palestinian home that settlers attempted to burn down only two months ago….the Muslim graveyard that has been closed to cars forcing Palestinians to carry in their dead in order to bury them…..and the countless homes that have been abandoned after Palestinians were forced to leave so that the space could be used for military purposes by the Israeli army.

The only room that was burned after settlers attempted to light the entire house on fire

The only room that was burned after settlers attempted to light the entire house on fire

One of the many Palestinian homes that has been taken over by the army

One of the many Palestinian homes that has been taken over by the army

 As human beings we are all entitled to basic rights…. but in Hebron, even the most basic rights do not appear to exist for the Palestinians.

Powerful image of the blockades used by the Israeli army to shut down streets and further restrict freedom of movement

Powerful image of the blockades used by the Israeli army to shut down streets and further restrict freedom of movement

In 1994, Hassan Barghouthi founded the Democracy and Workers Rights Center in Ramallah with the intention of creating an organization dedicated to workers’ rights. Fifteen years later, the DWRC remains an innovative leader in labor union reform and education. Mr. Barghouthi’s vision for the DWRC has helped thousands of Palestinian workers over the years by granting them access to free legal consultation, training and awareness seminars and, until recently, an occupational health clinic where workers could be seen by a physician at no charge. The following interview with Mr. Barghouthi provides some insights about the foundation of the DWRC and why it remains such a critical asset to Palestinian workers and the fight to guarantee their rights.

 

The United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East dismissed 312 Palestinian workers in the West Bank last month. And given the slow nature of bureaucracy here, it is no surprise that news of the mass layoff is just now reaching news stands. One of the 312 estranged workers recently found himself at the DWRC to sit down with one of our lawyers, Mohammad Amarneh, to discuss the situation. The worker claimed that he was notified in mid June that his contract, set to expire on June 30^th, would not be renewed. According to Palestinian law, a limited term contract should not exceed 2 years and if it does, then it automatically converts to an unlimited contract. Once the contract becomes unlimited, the employer can no longer go to the employee and end the contract without a legitimate reason. Most of the UNRWA workers have been operating under 6 months contracts that are renewed on an ongoing basis and close to 90% have worked for more than two consecutive years.

Moreover, according to the law, employers who end an unlimited contract legitimately, are required to provide arbitrary dismissal compensation to the employee. The compensation should include 2 months pay for each year of work plus other benefits such as severance pay and vacation.

When questioned about the reason for the massive dismissal, UNRWA claims that it is in an effort to “restructure” their Emergency Programme and argue that local law does not apply in their case due to the immunity they were granted by the Ministry of Justice. This immunity, however, is in direct violation of the Palestinian constitution which states that the Ministry of Justice does not have the authority to grant basic rights to workers and so likewise they are not authorized to take such rights away (which they are inherently doing by providing immunity to UNRWA).

Upon hearing the news, Mr. Amarneh promptly contacted workers to begin investigating the situation and to ensure that workers’ rights are being respected and enforced. The DWRC plans on following the case closely in the coming weeks.

DWRC lawyer Mohammad Amarneh (right) meets with one of the dismissed workers (left)

DWRC lawyer Mohammad Amarneh (right) meets with one of the dismissed workers (left)