Sunset and shadow on my wall.Hopefully I'll also be able to get it up on the right hand side too.
Busy, busy, busy. Just about to take a break.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Old Man's New Profile Picture
Sunset and shadow on my wall.Hopefully I'll also be able to get it up on the right hand side too.
Busy, busy, busy. Just about to take a break.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Kharbatha Misbah
Yesterday I visited my friend A. who lives in KM. This is a village East of Ramallah, which lies very close to the Green Line. A. teaches at the local school, and wanted me to meet some of his colleagues, so I had to get up early and was in Ramallah by 8:30. However, there was only one service going to KM, and it was empty. The driver said we would be waiting two hours for the car to fill up, but offered to take me there for 50 shekels. After a bit of uming and ahing I relented, and off we went. In order to get to KM, you have to follow the road that winds its way through most of the villages east of Ramallah. This elaborate journey takes about 40 minutes altogether. Prior to the intifada, Palestinians used to be able to use the Jerusalem-Tel Aviv highway (that runs right through their land), but they have now been banned from using this road. In fact, KM is divided from the nearby villages by this highway. In order to ensure (racial) separation, the Israeli Authorities built a tunnel underneath the highway, linking KM to the next village. This tunnel, which lets you know you've finally reached the village, also has gates at either end, should Israel wish to imprison the KM residents at any points. A. finds the prospect of being like 'birds in a cage' amusing to think about - probably because it hasn't actually happened yet.
Once in the village I went directly to the school, which was conspicuously devoid of pupils. Although 700 hundred boys attend this school (age 5-18), yesterday was the last day of the teaching term. Schools here have all but broken up for the summer holidays (and it's not even June!) The staff room however was packed, with staff trying to grade the final exams so that all the pupils would be able to graduate on Tuesday. I was able to sit and talk to some of the staff while A. was finishing some of his own administrative work. Beyond the usual formalities, the people I talked to - who haven't been paid in 3 months now - all seemed fairly acquiescent to this fact. The recent marriage of one guy and the engagement of another may perhaps have lightened the mood.
After a couple of cups of tea, A and I walked to his house, on the edge of village. A. lives with his mother, two brothers and four sisters (his father recently passed away) in a small dwelling which contains four rooms. The living room/guest room where we sat contained a three piece suite, with an extra chair, a table against one of the wall and some plastic chairs. A variety of tapestries woven by Um A. (A.'s mother), school certificates, verses from the Kor'an and a picture of two children from A. extended family who had been martyred (murdered by the Israeli Occupation Forces) covered the unpainted concrete plastered walls. After sitting a while with A. next oldest brother, we were joined by his sister's fiance and another friend of A.'s from the neighbouring village.
Just after twelve we ate lunch. In order to do this the table was moved from the wall, and the sitting room became the dining room. I think this double usage of space is fairly common, especially in smaller houses. [For instance, the bathroom was in fact part of the kitchen that had been walled off, although not all the way up to the ceiling. One of the two bedrooms was also the TV room]. Despite the fact that all of A. family was at home, the only other member to join us was A. older brother, who is close in age to A. [His younger brother is only 5]. This gender exclusion is common in Palestinian homes, and warrants an entire post of its own, which I will endeavour to do when I can do justice to the topic. For the time being, I'll simply state that all the females, except for A. youngest sister, remained something of a ghostly physical presence (seen for glimpses before disappearing again) while I was visiting. However their labour - our delicious dinner - was clearly tangible. [When I asked, A. said they were eating in the kitchen].
Dinner consisted of the fabulous musachken: bread covered in olive oil, pine nuts and onions, and eaten with baked chicken. A.'s mum had also grilled some chicken, which was served on a massive tray of rice, potatoes and carrots. A real feast!
After dinner, there was the obligatory Arabic coffee, some talk of the latest developments with regards to the building of the Israeli Occupation Wall (referred to simply as 'the apartheid' (in English) by people living there), a discussion about religion (mainly asking me what the differences between Catholicism and Protestantism are), and talk about a recent football match between two of the villages that ended in a fight. Due to the intense heat, we weren't able to walk around the village or A.'s family lands, so we remained in the guest room until the early evening. Catching a service back to Ramallah necessitated a 15 minute wait - since there are only 10 cars (carrying 7-9 people each) for the whole village (5-6000 people). I did however, finally get back to Ramallah, and from there, home.
Once in the village I went directly to the school, which was conspicuously devoid of pupils. Although 700 hundred boys attend this school (age 5-18), yesterday was the last day of the teaching term. Schools here have all but broken up for the summer holidays (and it's not even June!) The staff room however was packed, with staff trying to grade the final exams so that all the pupils would be able to graduate on Tuesday. I was able to sit and talk to some of the staff while A. was finishing some of his own administrative work. Beyond the usual formalities, the people I talked to - who haven't been paid in 3 months now - all seemed fairly acquiescent to this fact. The recent marriage of one guy and the engagement of another may perhaps have lightened the mood.
After a couple of cups of tea, A and I walked to his house, on the edge of village. A. lives with his mother, two brothers and four sisters (his father recently passed away) in a small dwelling which contains four rooms. The living room/guest room where we sat contained a three piece suite, with an extra chair, a table against one of the wall and some plastic chairs. A variety of tapestries woven by Um A. (A.'s mother), school certificates, verses from the Kor'an and a picture of two children from A. extended family who had been martyred (murdered by the Israeli Occupation Forces) covered the unpainted concrete plastered walls. After sitting a while with A. next oldest brother, we were joined by his sister's fiance and another friend of A.'s from the neighbouring village.
Just after twelve we ate lunch. In order to do this the table was moved from the wall, and the sitting room became the dining room. I think this double usage of space is fairly common, especially in smaller houses. [For instance, the bathroom was in fact part of the kitchen that had been walled off, although not all the way up to the ceiling. One of the two bedrooms was also the TV room]. Despite the fact that all of A. family was at home, the only other member to join us was A. older brother, who is close in age to A. [His younger brother is only 5]. This gender exclusion is common in Palestinian homes, and warrants an entire post of its own, which I will endeavour to do when I can do justice to the topic. For the time being, I'll simply state that all the females, except for A. youngest sister, remained something of a ghostly physical presence (seen for glimpses before disappearing again) while I was visiting. However their labour - our delicious dinner - was clearly tangible. [When I asked, A. said they were eating in the kitchen].
Dinner consisted of the fabulous musachken: bread covered in olive oil, pine nuts and onions, and eaten with baked chicken. A.'s mum had also grilled some chicken, which was served on a massive tray of rice, potatoes and carrots. A real feast!
After dinner, there was the obligatory Arabic coffee, some talk of the latest developments with regards to the building of the Israeli Occupation Wall (referred to simply as 'the apartheid' (in English) by people living there), a discussion about religion (mainly asking me what the differences between Catholicism and Protestantism are), and talk about a recent football match between two of the villages that ended in a fight. Due to the intense heat, we weren't able to walk around the village or A.'s family lands, so we remained in the guest room until the early evening. Catching a service back to Ramallah necessitated a 15 minute wait - since there are only 10 cars (carrying 7-9 people each) for the whole village (5-6000 people). I did however, finally get back to Ramallah, and from there, home.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Quick update
Does your landlady appear with warad diwali and stuffed aubergines when you come home late? No. Nevermind.
I've put a variety of photos on to my flickr page, including this one:
Click here for the rest.
I visit a friend today, which was fun, and there's plenty to blog about, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow. I'm worn out after another day of sizzling temperatures.
I've put a variety of photos on to my flickr page, including this one:
Click here for the rest.
I visit a friend today, which was fun, and there's plenty to blog about, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow. I'm worn out after another day of sizzling temperatures.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Sometimes
Sometimes, after a hard week and a long day, when the weather's been hot and you're tired, you'll read an article about some people who seem a millions miles away, and you'll cry.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Hafle (Party!)
So there was me thinking that this party I had been invited to was going to be a bit of a knees up with 'a few of the guys'.
Believe me, I'm learning not to make even the most basic assumptions when living in a foreign country.
Hafle, which is Arabic for party, would have been better translated in this case as 'large reception in which most people who will be graduating invite their entire family and the department staff to a suit and tie style bash'.
Oldman rocks up in his jeans and t-shirt. -1 point for the foreigner.
I've been to weddings that are less grandiose than this event was. All the soon-to-be graduates, holding candles, paraded into the hall (down a flight of stairs) to some very dramatic music, walked down the two side aisle to the back of the room, then up the centre aisle, through three hooped arches and took their seats on a platform. After a prayer (or something to this effect) for the day's shaheedas (martyrs = blokes killed by Israel), there was then speeches, presentations of certificates, dancing, singing, more dancing, more speeches, and a cake cutting. All of the above was interspersed with lots of music, played at an extemely loud volume. It seemed like I was the only one to notice/dislike this though.
I have to say that the whole event was some what overwhelming. I guess it was essentially a communal wide graduation party. There was no food and only soft drinks (standard for a predominantly Islamic country), and apparently things were toned down because of the earlier incursion/murders. (Goodness knows what it would have been like had it gone off as planned!) Despite all this, I have to say I found the whole event rather boring. Every graduate to be got to give a speech (see update on the seminars post) and combined with the hot weather, and slightly stuffy atmosphere, I think I'd just had enough. Plus hungry oldman isn't a happy oldman.
Nevertheless, it was quite the experience.
Believe me, I'm learning not to make even the most basic assumptions when living in a foreign country.
Hafle, which is Arabic for party, would have been better translated in this case as 'large reception in which most people who will be graduating invite their entire family and the department staff to a suit and tie style bash'.
Oldman rocks up in his jeans and t-shirt. -1 point for the foreigner.
I've been to weddings that are less grandiose than this event was. All the soon-to-be graduates, holding candles, paraded into the hall (down a flight of stairs) to some very dramatic music, walked down the two side aisle to the back of the room, then up the centre aisle, through three hooped arches and took their seats on a platform. After a prayer (or something to this effect) for the day's shaheedas (martyrs = blokes killed by Israel), there was then speeches, presentations of certificates, dancing, singing, more dancing, more speeches, and a cake cutting. All of the above was interspersed with lots of music, played at an extemely loud volume. It seemed like I was the only one to notice/dislike this though.
I have to say that the whole event was some what overwhelming. I guess it was essentially a communal wide graduation party. There was no food and only soft drinks (standard for a predominantly Islamic country), and apparently things were toned down because of the earlier incursion/murders. (Goodness knows what it would have been like had it gone off as planned!) Despite all this, I have to say I found the whole event rather boring. Every graduate to be got to give a speech (see update on the seminars post) and combined with the hot weather, and slightly stuffy atmosphere, I think I'd just had enough. Plus hungry oldman isn't a happy oldman.
Nevertheless, it was quite the experience.
But first, a 'small' aside...
Ok, hands up who saw the news that Ramallah was invaded today?
Anyone?
Read the story and see a few pictures here.
I can't begin to express how serious this incursion was. Timed not at all coincidentally to coincide with Olmert's speech to the US congress (i.e. when that would be making the headlines), the Israel Defense Force (sic) incursion was the most serious attack on Ramallah since the invasion in 2003. This is Ramallah people. The army simply doesn't go there. Nablus, yes. Hebron, yes. Ramallah, no. Until today.
And they didn't just attack anywhere. It was the Manara. This is the Palestinian equivalent of Trafalgar Square. The attack, which really took people here by surprise (which itself is unusual), left the central area in a mess.
On a personal note, I had to delay my trip to the party, since it was being held in a reception hall on the edge of Ramallah. When I did arrive in the city (after getting the all clear from a friend who was there) the last ambulance carrying a martyr was driving to the hospital. Funnily enough (although I'm not laughing) this was the first time I've experienced Palestine as it is usually represented on the television news (gunfire and all). Needless to say, being a foreigner and walking past a crowd of angry and aggrieved Palestinians wasn't the most comfortable experience in my life, but most people were more concerned with clearing up the mess (broken glass, stones, various other items cluttering the street).
Let's hope this event was exceptional and not some sort of foreboding of events to come!
Anyone?
Read the story and see a few pictures here.
I can't begin to express how serious this incursion was. Timed not at all coincidentally to coincide with Olmert's speech to the US congress (i.e. when that would be making the headlines), the Israel Defense Force (sic) incursion was the most serious attack on Ramallah since the invasion in 2003. This is Ramallah people. The army simply doesn't go there. Nablus, yes. Hebron, yes. Ramallah, no. Until today.
And they didn't just attack anywhere. It was the Manara. This is the Palestinian equivalent of Trafalgar Square. The attack, which really took people here by surprise (which itself is unusual), left the central area in a mess.
On a personal note, I had to delay my trip to the party, since it was being held in a reception hall on the edge of Ramallah. When I did arrive in the city (after getting the all clear from a friend who was there) the last ambulance carrying a martyr was driving to the hospital. Funnily enough (although I'm not laughing) this was the first time I've experienced Palestine as it is usually represented on the television news (gunfire and all). Needless to say, being a foreigner and walking past a crowd of angry and aggrieved Palestinians wasn't the most comfortable experience in my life, but most people were more concerned with clearing up the mess (broken glass, stones, various other items cluttering the street).
Let's hope this event was exceptional and not some sort of foreboding of events to come!
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
The Strange Case of the End of Degree Seminar Presentation
[Strange as in unfamiliar. The seminar presentation format was what you might consider standard.]
I was invited by some friends to their seminar presentations at the University of Birzeit. To graduate from Birzeit, you have to complete a seminar (all other courses are lecture or lab-based) and to fulfill the seminar requirements, you have to present a 15-20 minute presentation based on original research at the end of the term. When I was an undergrad we had to do presentations frequently. Here, they only do one, and boy do they take it seriously.
Firstly, everyone dresses up in a suit or smart dress to present their work. Secondly, some people invite their entire family to watch. Thirdly, nearly everyone else at the university who is known to the presenter is invited, even though the classroom may only (read: probably) seat 30 people. Fourthly, the entire event is filmed/photographed as though someone were getting married. Fifthly, at the conclusion of the presentation, everyone celebrates as though someone just got married. Flowers (and occasionally cuddly toys) are given to the presenter, chocolates and sweets are handed to everyone who attended, and in the most extreme cases, presenters walk ceremoniously around campus with all their friends singing and clapping. It's basically a pre-graduation, graduation party.
And every person who graduates Birzeit has to do this!
(Although not everyone goes to such extremes!)
UPDATE:
I went to another friend's seminar today, who is studying English. Hence the presentations were all in English. Something I didn't realise yesterday, was that at the end of each presentation, the presenters make an Oscar like thank you speech. Another guy who I also know, had to bite back the tears as he thanked Allah, the 'two candles in his life' (mum and dad), his professor, his friends and everyone at the university of Birzeit.
I was invited by some friends to their seminar presentations at the University of Birzeit. To graduate from Birzeit, you have to complete a seminar (all other courses are lecture or lab-based) and to fulfill the seminar requirements, you have to present a 15-20 minute presentation based on original research at the end of the term. When I was an undergrad we had to do presentations frequently. Here, they only do one, and boy do they take it seriously.
Firstly, everyone dresses up in a suit or smart dress to present their work. Secondly, some people invite their entire family to watch. Thirdly, nearly everyone else at the university who is known to the presenter is invited, even though the classroom may only (read: probably) seat 30 people. Fourthly, the entire event is filmed/photographed as though someone were getting married. Fifthly, at the conclusion of the presentation, everyone celebrates as though someone just got married. Flowers (and occasionally cuddly toys) are given to the presenter, chocolates and sweets are handed to everyone who attended, and in the most extreme cases, presenters walk ceremoniously around campus with all their friends singing and clapping. It's basically a pre-graduation, graduation party.
And every person who graduates Birzeit has to do this!
(Although not everyone goes to such extremes!)
UPDATE:
I went to another friend's seminar today, who is studying English. Hence the presentations were all in English. Something I didn't realise yesterday, was that at the end of each presentation, the presenters make an Oscar like thank you speech. Another guy who I also know, had to bite back the tears as he thanked Allah, the 'two candles in his life' (mum and dad), his professor, his friends and everyone at the university of Birzeit.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Anatomy of Collective Punishment
You begin with a free and democratic election, in which the population votes for a party considered a 'terrorist' entity by the US and its allies.
The US then not only cuts off all funds to the government, but also uses its economic and political muscle to prevent other countries from supporting that government too.
Since 1/3 of the population relies, directly or indirectly, on a state salary of some sort, 1/3 of the population is immediately effected by the sudden loss of income. Naturally, the poorer you are, the less money you have in savings or in capital investments, and thus the harder you are hit.
This 1/3 of the population thus has to start cutting back on expenses. Bills are no longer paid and people have to start relying on credit from shopkeepers to buy even the basics like food and medicine.
Shopkeepers, faced with declining income due to the spiraling credit, begin to cut back on expenses themselves. If they are able to, they establish a line of credit with the suppliers of their goods. If they aren't, their stock declines.
Suppliers, such as food producers and clothes makers, are forced to essentially provide their product for free, or stop providing it. They in turn cut back on expenditure.
Forced with a widespread recession, private institutions are heavily effected. All the staff at the University of Birzeit are told they will be paid half wages this month, and will have to work for free over the summer semester, since students can no longer afford the tuition fees.
Despite this situation life continues because:
1, People are by now use to frequent and unexpected (financial) crises, and know it will end sooner or later;
2, Due to the frequency, they have developed coping mechanisms to endure them;
3, There's no much else to do anyway. They're certainly not going to sit at home just because foreign governments are systematically punishing them.
In other words, that's life in Palestine!
The US then not only cuts off all funds to the government, but also uses its economic and political muscle to prevent other countries from supporting that government too.
Since 1/3 of the population relies, directly or indirectly, on a state salary of some sort, 1/3 of the population is immediately effected by the sudden loss of income. Naturally, the poorer you are, the less money you have in savings or in capital investments, and thus the harder you are hit.
This 1/3 of the population thus has to start cutting back on expenses. Bills are no longer paid and people have to start relying on credit from shopkeepers to buy even the basics like food and medicine.
Shopkeepers, faced with declining income due to the spiraling credit, begin to cut back on expenses themselves. If they are able to, they establish a line of credit with the suppliers of their goods. If they aren't, their stock declines.
Suppliers, such as food producers and clothes makers, are forced to essentially provide their product for free, or stop providing it. They in turn cut back on expenditure.
Forced with a widespread recession, private institutions are heavily effected. All the staff at the University of Birzeit are told they will be paid half wages this month, and will have to work for free over the summer semester, since students can no longer afford the tuition fees.
Despite this situation life continues because:
1, People are by now use to frequent and unexpected (financial) crises, and know it will end sooner or later;
2, Due to the frequency, they have developed coping mechanisms to endure them;
3, There's no much else to do anyway. They're certainly not going to sit at home just because foreign governments are systematically punishing them.
In other words, that's life in Palestine!
Friday, May 19, 2006
A little piece of chaos
I decided yesterday afternoon, that since it was the weekend, I would go to Ramallah with a friend for the evening. However, the Israeli Defense Force (sic) had decided to stop all traffic going in and out of Ramallah yesterday, at least along the major roads. So about a kilometer from where the flying checkpoint usually gets set up, due to massive congestion, we had to get out of the bus and start walking. My friend referred to this as Palestinian sports. However, when we got the point in the road where the army was suppose to be, there was nothing but cars. While the checkpoint had been removed, the congestion it caused remained long after, since people simply couldn't wait patiently, and had blocked the opposite side of the road. Collective punishment was never easier to administer, or more readily aided.
After walking a few kilometers more to get to Ramallah, I then had the misfortune later in the evening of eating some dodgy fried chicken, which cut my night rather short. Thankfully the congestion had long since cleared by the time I made my way home.
After walking a few kilometers more to get to Ramallah, I then had the misfortune later in the evening of eating some dodgy fried chicken, which cut my night rather short. Thankfully the congestion had long since cleared by the time I made my way home.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
A.’s Crazy Hamlet Production
This afternoon finally saw the completion of my friend A.'s masterpiece, an abridged and adapted version of Hamlet. A. studied the play as part of an English Literature course on Shakespeare and for his final assignment, decided to make a short film. Although his film consisted (eventually) of just three short seasons, the production was quite epic.
We originally shot two scenes last week, without any preparation or rehearsal. However, A., ever the perfectionist, wasn't happy with their quality, and therefore decided we needed to do it again. This is the point when things started to get complicated. Firstly, he decide to write another scene, featuring two new characters and a mix of Shakespeare's dialogue and his own. This of course required two new actors, and they had to learn their lines, and it also meant we had four people to co-ordinate with regards to arranging a time to film. He also had to convince his friend to play a woman. A.'s argument that boys used to play women in Shakespeare's time wasn't well received, but he did eventually manage to persuade his friend.
However, now ready to film, A. discovered that the media department (from which he had borrowed the camera for the first shot) wouldn't let him use their camera again. Hence another day's delay while A. tracked down another camera - one that was of a slightly lesser quality this time. Finally, this afternoon, it all came together. With a fifth friend tagging along as an extra, A. delivered part of Hamlet's 'to be or not to be' soliloquy from the new venue of a prison. The second scene was a dialogue between Ophelia and the Queen just before Ophelia kills herself, (with Ophelia singing Shakespeare's lines to Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On'). The final scene was an entirely improvised conversation between Hamlet (still in prison) and Horatio (your truly).
At the end of the day, I don't think we'll be winning any Oscars, but it was good fun nevertheless and A. seemed pleased with the results, (at least at the time of writing).
We originally shot two scenes last week, without any preparation or rehearsal. However, A., ever the perfectionist, wasn't happy with their quality, and therefore decided we needed to do it again. This is the point when things started to get complicated. Firstly, he decide to write another scene, featuring two new characters and a mix of Shakespeare's dialogue and his own. This of course required two new actors, and they had to learn their lines, and it also meant we had four people to co-ordinate with regards to arranging a time to film. He also had to convince his friend to play a woman. A.'s argument that boys used to play women in Shakespeare's time wasn't well received, but he did eventually manage to persuade his friend.
However, now ready to film, A. discovered that the media department (from which he had borrowed the camera for the first shot) wouldn't let him use their camera again. Hence another day's delay while A. tracked down another camera - one that was of a slightly lesser quality this time. Finally, this afternoon, it all came together. With a fifth friend tagging along as an extra, A. delivered part of Hamlet's 'to be or not to be' soliloquy from the new venue of a prison. The second scene was a dialogue between Ophelia and the Queen just before Ophelia kills herself, (with Ophelia singing Shakespeare's lines to Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On'). The final scene was an entirely improvised conversation between Hamlet (still in prison) and Horatio (your truly).
At the end of the day, I don't think we'll be winning any Oscars, but it was good fun nevertheless and A. seemed pleased with the results, (at least at the time of writing).
Monday, May 15, 2006
Boycott/Nakba
So the reason for no memorializations a couple of weeks ago - the Palestinians in the West Bank don't mourn the Nakba until today. (It was the Palestinians inside Israel who commemorate the event when the Hebrew calendar marks Israel's independence). On the BZU campus, which I was visiting today (see next paragraph), there were a couple of tents representing the many camps where Palestinians still live (although no longer in tents).
There was also a big trade fair at BZU, promoting Palestinian products and supporting a boycott of Israeli ones. I don't know if a full boycott is possible here, simply because Israel controls everything going in and out of Palestine, but I'm sure the conscious raising efforts are worthwhile. Having said that, there was one stand promoting Coca Cola products. I can only assume this is because there is a bottling factory in Ramallah?!?
There was also a big trade fair at BZU, promoting Palestinian products and supporting a boycott of Israeli ones. I don't know if a full boycott is possible here, simply because Israel controls everything going in and out of Palestine, but I'm sure the conscious raising efforts are worthwhile. Having said that, there was one stand promoting Coca Cola products. I can only assume this is because there is a bottling factory in Ramallah?!?
Friday, May 12, 2006
Haircut
Forgot to add also that I got a much needed haircut yesterday. It took me a long time to pluck up the courage since I've seen a number of internationals come back from the hairdresser with significantly less hair than they had intended to, but the results, in my case, seem alright. And for only NIS 15, probably the cheapest haircut I've ever had, (except for when I use to buzz cut myself for free).
Smart Cars, Home Visits, Petrol Crises and Swimming Pools
Due to some blogger.com problems and being busy, I have accumulated some posting over the last couple of days that I will now present in amalgamated form:
Spotted!
One Smart Car (you know, the dinky little ones), with German number plates. I think there is a Goethe Institute in Ramallah as well as a consulate, but I'm not 100% sure.
Palestinian Hospitality
For the UEFA cup final on Wednesday (more on that later), I manage to wrangle an invitation (it was a genuine invitation though) to my friend M's house since I don't have a TV. Since Palestinian hospitality, (in fact, probably Arab hospitality, but I don't have much of a comparison) is different from what we might enjoy in the West, I thought I would record my experiences here.
Firstly, you are not allowed to do or pay for anything. Even the taxi ride there and back was part of deal, no matter how much I protested/tried thrusting notes into my host's hand. Secondly, even though M. invited me, it was as if his whole family had, in the sense that there was a collective effort by his brothers and parents to make me feel welcome and attend to my needs.
After arriving, and greeting the aforementioned parents and brothers, M. showed me his family's land, which has a good view of the neighbouring village and an Israeli settler-colonist road that divides the two villages from each other. (The only way to go from one to the other is via a tunnel built specially for the purpose of keeping Palestinians out of sight and out of mind). M. family grow a number of fruit and vegetables, including zucchinis/courgettes that, when stuffed, formed part of a delicious dinner. M. house consisted of a kitchen, living room, and three bedrooms. One for the boys, one for the girls and one for the parents. The second floor is a work in progress, although in this case, I'm not sure how much progress is being made. (Palestinians often build their houses in a piecemeal fashion, because of the cost relative to income). We ate dinner in the living room, which was quickly converted into a dining space by moving the table that was against the wall and bringing in some auxiliary chairs (c.f. Peter Kay).
As well as the stuffed zucchinis, M. mum had roasted a chicken and made Warad Diwali (stuffed vine leaves). Yum. M. and I with his younger brother. I've noticed that families here don't necessarily eat all at once, except perhaps on weekends, since different schedules often mean different eating times. Then we moved into what I can best describe as their garage area, where we smoked an aiguilles with a couple of M. friends from the village.
When it was time for the game to start, we actually went to a local cafe (due to TV reception difficulties at home), which here looked more like an enlarged concrete container. Needless to say, Boro got humiliated, and it was a little before midnight when the final whistle was mercifully blown. Depending on where you live, 'public' transport finishes any time between 7pm and 10pm here, so if you visit someone's house, you're staying the night.
M., his younger brother and I were all shacked up in the boys room. Here in Palestine, large numbers of siblings (seven to eight in some cases) share the same sleeping space, and I've been curious about how this has actually been accomplished. In M. case, there is a pile of mattresses and a shelf with blankets and pillows on. You grab one of each, and then find a space on the floor. Since two of M.'s five brothers are married and have their own house, there's not too much of space issue in this case. His other brother slept in front of the TV in the living room. Apparently this is also a long established habit.
The next morning we got up at 6:30, had a quick cup of tea, and were on the bus to the university by 7.
Fuel Crisis
I never know exactly how much media coverage certain events over here are receiving in different parts of the world, but believe me, the current fuel crisis which you may or may not have heard about it a huge deal here. Palestine receives all its petrol and diesel from one Israeli company, which decided to stop supplying fuel after the Israeli government stopped using Palestinian tax money, (which they are currently withholding illegally,) to pay the debt owed to the company. It's hard to imagine not having any fuel. The impact is phenomenal here. Not only do hundreds of thousands of people rely on jobs that involve driving, but millions rely on the services (taxis) to get from one place to another on a daily basis. Since the services need refueling far more regularly than private cars, the impact of the shortages is already being felt. Since today is Friday - when most people don't go to work - tomorrow will be the first day when the effects of the fuel shortage can be seen and felt. One taxi driver was already complaining that Israelis pay 20 NIS (shekels) for the same amount is costs Palestinians 100 NIS to buy. I read people may start going to the settler-colonist petrol stations. Palestinians' have a well-established ability to cope with the various problems the Occupation throws at them, and I also heard people have already started experimenting with engine fuel and other substances to keep the cars running.
UPDATE: Apparently Abbas has managed to secure the supply of petrol by taking money from the Palestinian Investment Fund to pay the debt. I don't know what this fund does, but I'm sure when people (probably foreign governments) were contributing to it, they didn't intend for the money to end up in the coffers of Dor Allon - the Israeli company that supplies the fuel).
Swimming Pools
Talking of Occupation related problems, any one who has visited Palestine, particularly in the summer, with be aware of the limited access to water here. However, after some friends invited me to go swimming (a trip that had to be postponed because of the fuel situation in fact), I've learnt that there are a number of pool at least in the central area of Palestine, that are built on top of natural springs.
And finally…how to get to Gaza
I'm sure many Palestinians would like to know how to do this. Well, the other day I was speaking to a young woman who lives in Jerusalem (and hence has a Jerusalem ID, which allows her to travel all over Israel). Her mother's family lives in Gaza, and prior to the Intifada, it apparently took them just two hours to drive down and visit. (The same amount of time it took me to visit my family when I was doing my BSc). However, since permission from the Israeli Authorities to visit Gaza is now more of a historical relic than something that actually exists nowadays, these visits no longer take place. However, a few years ago this woman's grandfather was seriously ill, and so her father and mother had to go. Permission to travel there was, as usual, denied, so her parents ended up going to Amman in Jordan, then flying to Cairo, and from Cairo across the Sinai to Gaza. Apparently this incredible feat was accomplish in one day, albeit a very long and tiring one. It's amazing that no matter how long you live in Palestine, there are always a whole host of stories like this that continue to astound and shock you.
Spotted!
One Smart Car (you know, the dinky little ones), with German number plates. I think there is a Goethe Institute in Ramallah as well as a consulate, but I'm not 100% sure.
Palestinian Hospitality
For the UEFA cup final on Wednesday (more on that later), I manage to wrangle an invitation (it was a genuine invitation though) to my friend M's house since I don't have a TV. Since Palestinian hospitality, (in fact, probably Arab hospitality, but I don't have much of a comparison) is different from what we might enjoy in the West, I thought I would record my experiences here.
Firstly, you are not allowed to do or pay for anything. Even the taxi ride there and back was part of deal, no matter how much I protested/tried thrusting notes into my host's hand. Secondly, even though M. invited me, it was as if his whole family had, in the sense that there was a collective effort by his brothers and parents to make me feel welcome and attend to my needs.
After arriving, and greeting the aforementioned parents and brothers, M. showed me his family's land, which has a good view of the neighbouring village and an Israeli settler-colonist road that divides the two villages from each other. (The only way to go from one to the other is via a tunnel built specially for the purpose of keeping Palestinians out of sight and out of mind). M. family grow a number of fruit and vegetables, including zucchinis/courgettes that, when stuffed, formed part of a delicious dinner. M. house consisted of a kitchen, living room, and three bedrooms. One for the boys, one for the girls and one for the parents. The second floor is a work in progress, although in this case, I'm not sure how much progress is being made. (Palestinians often build their houses in a piecemeal fashion, because of the cost relative to income). We ate dinner in the living room, which was quickly converted into a dining space by moving the table that was against the wall and bringing in some auxiliary chairs (c.f. Peter Kay).
As well as the stuffed zucchinis, M. mum had roasted a chicken and made Warad Diwali (stuffed vine leaves). Yum. M. and I with his younger brother. I've noticed that families here don't necessarily eat all at once, except perhaps on weekends, since different schedules often mean different eating times. Then we moved into what I can best describe as their garage area, where we smoked an aiguilles with a couple of M. friends from the village.
When it was time for the game to start, we actually went to a local cafe (due to TV reception difficulties at home), which here looked more like an enlarged concrete container. Needless to say, Boro got humiliated, and it was a little before midnight when the final whistle was mercifully blown. Depending on where you live, 'public' transport finishes any time between 7pm and 10pm here, so if you visit someone's house, you're staying the night.
M., his younger brother and I were all shacked up in the boys room. Here in Palestine, large numbers of siblings (seven to eight in some cases) share the same sleeping space, and I've been curious about how this has actually been accomplished. In M. case, there is a pile of mattresses and a shelf with blankets and pillows on. You grab one of each, and then find a space on the floor. Since two of M.'s five brothers are married and have their own house, there's not too much of space issue in this case. His other brother slept in front of the TV in the living room. Apparently this is also a long established habit.
The next morning we got up at 6:30, had a quick cup of tea, and were on the bus to the university by 7.
Fuel Crisis
I never know exactly how much media coverage certain events over here are receiving in different parts of the world, but believe me, the current fuel crisis which you may or may not have heard about it a huge deal here. Palestine receives all its petrol and diesel from one Israeli company, which decided to stop supplying fuel after the Israeli government stopped using Palestinian tax money, (which they are currently withholding illegally,) to pay the debt owed to the company. It's hard to imagine not having any fuel. The impact is phenomenal here. Not only do hundreds of thousands of people rely on jobs that involve driving, but millions rely on the services (taxis) to get from one place to another on a daily basis. Since the services need refueling far more regularly than private cars, the impact of the shortages is already being felt. Since today is Friday - when most people don't go to work - tomorrow will be the first day when the effects of the fuel shortage can be seen and felt. One taxi driver was already complaining that Israelis pay 20 NIS (shekels) for the same amount is costs Palestinians 100 NIS to buy. I read people may start going to the settler-colonist petrol stations. Palestinians' have a well-established ability to cope with the various problems the Occupation throws at them, and I also heard people have already started experimenting with engine fuel and other substances to keep the cars running.
UPDATE: Apparently Abbas has managed to secure the supply of petrol by taking money from the Palestinian Investment Fund to pay the debt. I don't know what this fund does, but I'm sure when people (probably foreign governments) were contributing to it, they didn't intend for the money to end up in the coffers of Dor Allon - the Israeli company that supplies the fuel).
Swimming Pools
Talking of Occupation related problems, any one who has visited Palestine, particularly in the summer, with be aware of the limited access to water here. However, after some friends invited me to go swimming (a trip that had to be postponed because of the fuel situation in fact), I've learnt that there are a number of pool at least in the central area of Palestine, that are built on top of natural springs.
And finally…how to get to Gaza
I'm sure many Palestinians would like to know how to do this. Well, the other day I was speaking to a young woman who lives in Jerusalem (and hence has a Jerusalem ID, which allows her to travel all over Israel). Her mother's family lives in Gaza, and prior to the Intifada, it apparently took them just two hours to drive down and visit. (The same amount of time it took me to visit my family when I was doing my BSc). However, since permission from the Israeli Authorities to visit Gaza is now more of a historical relic than something that actually exists nowadays, these visits no longer take place. However, a few years ago this woman's grandfather was seriously ill, and so her father and mother had to go. Permission to travel there was, as usual, denied, so her parents ended up going to Amman in Jordan, then flying to Cairo, and from Cairo across the Sinai to Gaza. Apparently this incredible feat was accomplish in one day, albeit a very long and tiring one. It's amazing that no matter how long you live in Palestine, there are always a whole host of stories like this that continue to astound and shock you.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Apple comes to Palestine
As I was coming home, I saw a couple of adverts for i-pods. Then, on returning to the village, my friend T. had a surprise - a shiny new 12 inch PowerBook. So it's official. Mac is now in Palestine.
Friday, May 05, 2006
For the love of God!
The donkey is back in the field next to my house, and it's toe-curling cries seem to have got louder, more frequent, and consequently more annoying. It's amazing how just one 'ea-aww' can create an affective resonance of immense pain and suffering.
Photos from BZU elections
I discovered this link and this link, which include photos from the University of Birzeit elections a couple of weeks ago. There are also a few photos of the IDF appearance that I blogged about.
What the photos don't (and perhaps can't) show, is the sheer pagentary of the elections across the campus.
What the photos don't (and perhaps can't) show, is the sheer pagentary of the elections across the campus.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
58 years later
And the sun is still setting in the West, oblivious to everything that has happened here since 1948.
Yesterday's sunset
Perhaps the biggest irony is that the sun is actually setting 'over' Tel Aviv. However, due to the pollution cloud, the city can't be seen (from here) except on clear nights. The pollution nevertheless makes for wonderful dawn and dusks.
This particular sun marks not only the passage of day into night, but also the 58th anniversary of the Nakba (or catastrophe). There was little commemoration here.
Yesterday's sunsetPerhaps the biggest irony is that the sun is actually setting 'over' Tel Aviv. However, due to the pollution cloud, the city can't be seen (from here) except on clear nights. The pollution nevertheless makes for wonderful dawn and dusks.
This particular sun marks not only the passage of day into night, but also the 58th anniversary of the Nakba (or catastrophe). There was little commemoration here.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Road Signs and Traffic Lights
I don't go to Ramallah that much, which is perhaps why I tend to notice the little changes that occur every so often.
Coming back to Palestine in January, I noticed that there was a new set of traffic lights between the city and Kalandia. There has also been another set added on the road heading out of Ramallah to the north.
Today, I noticed that there are some new road markings further down this road, as you leave the city on the way to Surda. This is the first time I've seen any markings in Palestine - well, except for the settler-colonist roads.
Ironically though, as I was leaving the city (although nowhere near these new markings) there was a massive traffic jam caused by a fairly nasty crash. This involved a service and a van full of paint, which has subsequently spilt all over the vehicle and was running off down the street, leaving a pointedly different set of markings.
Coming back to Palestine in January, I noticed that there was a new set of traffic lights between the city and Kalandia. There has also been another set added on the road heading out of Ramallah to the north.
Today, I noticed that there are some new road markings further down this road, as you leave the city on the way to Surda. This is the first time I've seen any markings in Palestine - well, except for the settler-colonist roads.
Ironically though, as I was leaving the city (although nowhere near these new markings) there was a massive traffic jam caused by a fairly nasty crash. This involved a service and a van full of paint, which has subsequently spilt all over the vehicle and was running off down the street, leaving a pointedly different set of markings.
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