Initially, we split the group up into 2 groups and headed to two different refugee camps to collect more CBCLs from the clinics and around town. Each group was really successful, and in total we collected more than 100 filled forms (amazing!). After leaving the UNRWA clinic in search of more families with children, our group came across a Palestinian Children's Cultural Center, where a dozen or so young teens were gathered. As we got them to fill out surveys of their own, they spoke to us about their collaboration work with the center in Aida that we've been working with the past 2 weeks. Together, the kids produce a magazine that is published a few times a year. All the stories and all of the photography are done by the students, ranging from lighthearted stories about dancing to more dense topics like being attacked by Israeli settlers. Several students ran to point out the articles they had written in the latest publication, and smiled sheepishly, but proudly, as we marveled at what we read.
After finishing the research portion of our day, we ventured into the Old City within Hebron. It's much like the Old Cities of Jerusalem and Bethlehem, with cobblestone footpaths, narrow lanes, and an abundance of souvenier shops. What differed, however, was the strange awnings that stretched between the tall buildings. Some were made of ragged cloths, but the view up above of one entire stretch was a metal screen, littered with garbage. Some years ago, settlers had come and taken Palestinian homes that still border these narrow market streets. Known to be extremely violent settlers, they often throw rocks and garbage from their home windows into the market lanes. Thus, Palestinians have erected these barrier awnings to prevent the raining rubbish from reaching them. It is an interesting image - looking up to what you hope to be a beautiful blue sky, only to have that vision obstructed by a trash-covered metal shield.
We continued on and found ourselves walking through mini-checkpoints with heavily armed Israeli soldiers. And yes, we found Barbora's snipers. One threw up a peace sign as Markus aimed his Canon towards him for a photo. We wanted to go to the Ibrahim Mosque, a Muslim and Jewish religious site now controlled by Israel. In 1994, an American Jewish pediatrician opened fire on Muslims who were praying early in the morning, killing more than 20 people and injuring dozens of others. The Jewish settlers in Hebron have supposedly erected a statue for the doctor. Since that time, security and entrance into the mosque has been controlled by Israel. There are separate entrances for Jews and Muslims, and non-Muslims can only enter after 5:00p. We all went through security and had a brief question/answer/ridiculous session with a soldier. I'll transcribe my interaction real quick:
Sonya passes through metal detector, hands passport to Israeli soldier.
Soldier: "United States of America."
Sonya stares blankly. Don't be nervous.
Soldier: "Are you Christian?"
Sonya: "Uh, no."
Now soldier stares blankly, confused at the response.
Sonya: "I'm Hindu."
Soldier: "Hindu?"
Sonya: "Yes. HINDU."
Soldier reads passport intently.
Soldier: "Patel...Patel..."
Sonya: "It's Indian."
Soldier: "Indian?"
Sonya: "Yes. INDIAN."
Soldier again stares, trying to read the eyes of this strange brown woman with no religion and a weird nationality. Then, he waves her through.
Sonya tries really hard not to start laughing hysterically.
Anyway, my first time in a mosque was a rather somber experience. It's a quiet and simple place to pray, but you couldn't help but picture the tragedy that happened there. A man whom we'd run into earlier was there explaining to us the '94 incident - as an eyewitness. He was in the mosque praying when it happened, and gave us all the details he could remember. How he could continue coming to pray in a place where such things happened, I have no idea. Seems to me that it must take an ardent faith to be able to do that, and for that I envy him. I'm not sure I would have the strength.
After exiting the mosque, we ventured into settlement territory. To get there, we walked down a small road with a concrete guardrail running down the middle. A young Jewish boy walked on one side. A Muslim father and his son walked on the other. Seriously. They walked on different sides of the street, separated by a one-foot concrete wall. I can't even make that up.
As far as the settlement and its surrounding streets go, imagine this: An old western film with saloons lining a dirt road, everyone behind closed doors as one man walks down the dusty path, big bales of hay blowing across the way behind him. He slowly draws his pistol.
Now, replace the sepia screen with a dull grey one. Instead of saloons, picture worn down concrete shops, all closed off with solid metal gates. Not only is there no one in the street, but there's no one behind closed doors either. The path is dusty, but there is no hay. Just some garbage, fluttering in the breeze. A lone man does not pull his pistol. Instead, Israeli soldiers stand at every corner, heavily armed, waiting. This is the Hebron settlement on a Friday - an erie, military ghost town.
When we saw the ultraorthodox walking towards us, each with a chair in hand as they made their way to the synagogue for Friday prayers, we finally decided to turn around. Their reputation of being hostile, along with a soldier telling us previously that if we went forth, we needed to be careful, was enough to scare us back to the other side. Furthermore, for the first time in ages I was conscious of my skin color and how I might be perceived. As we found our way back to the beginning of the main settlement road, a few Jewish girls passed us and said, "Hello! Enjoy your stay." I did not expect that. It was nice, weird, and scary to hear all at once. I didn't know what to make of it.
That was Hebron. Different than any other place we'd been in the West Bank. Jews and Arabs living in the same town. I'm still not sure how to feel about it. It was the first time I felt scared walking around this place. Despite the news recently about Egypt and Lebanon and the exchange of rockets and gunfire, I've always felt safe in this area. Perhaps too much guidebook reading before our Hebron visit scared me for no reason. Perhaps the Jewish girl that wished us well was sincere and misunderstood. Still, I definitely had a tiny adrenaline rush walking into that sad and desolate settlement area. Funny how a bunch of empty buildings and desserted streets could do that to you.
Just a few more days here folks - I've got so much to write about but dont know if I'll have time before I leave. Our crazy checkpoint experience, our walk through the huge Jerusalem settlement Ma'ale Adumim, our time in Nablus - so much to write about! I'll see what I can do the next few days - till then, ma'salama!
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