Postcards from Palestine http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com mailings from the other side of the wall posterous.com Tue, 22 Nov 2011 03:39:30 -0800 Portraits of a City #2: Football 'n that http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/portraits-of-a-city-2-football-n-that http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/portraits-of-a-city-2-football-n-that

On arrival in Nablus, one of the first things you notice is the proliferation of Palestinian Flags. Since this flag, and even using even this combination of colours was outlawed until 1994, it's not surprising that the Palestinians use it to assert their national identity at every opportunity.

What is more surprising, however, is the frequency with which you encounter the colours of Barcelona, or Real Madrid. Usually being worn proudly by group of young boys, I am curious to know what came first, the shirts or the fandom; call me a cynic, but I suspect some savvy spanish marketers may have been promoting their clubs abroad through philanthropic gestures (ie. giving away shirts... this could well be something to do with Bacelona's agreement with UNICEF). Or perhaps this is simply a product of the fact that only the finest of European football is screened on Arabic TV.

 

Either way, football is a big deal here, as it is around the world, with one major exception (nb. for any Americans reading, "football" is a game where we kick the ball with our foot). I frequenly do battle with it, as it diverts the attention the boys I am attempting to teach at 7am on a Sunday morning. Strangely enough, they'd all rather be in the playground. 

People with even the most cursory knowledge of my interests will know that I am not an avid follower of the beautiful game. I regard it more as mildly attractive game - a game that might catch your eye in the street, but which I couldn't bear to look at for too long. So my interest extends more or less to watching England games during the world cup; holding a sort of totemistic love for Norwich (when they are doing well, which I gather they sort of are at the moment); and making clumsy attempts to sound like I know what I'm talking about in the pub on a Sunday afternoon.

So you may be susprised that I have attended not one but two international games since I have been in Nablus! Granted, one featured South Africa fielding their "developmental" team (1-1), and one featured the Palestinian Women's team facing their Japanese Counterparts - which many readers may not consider true "international" football (0-4)... but nevertheless, it gratifying to see Palestine in a (literal) arena where they are free to Participate at an international level.

In fact, my willingness to attend was perhaps assisted by the fact that the stadium is a mere 10 minute walk from my house - down the "stairs of death" as we affectionately know the steep route down the hill; and also by the fact that entry is free. Inside the stadium, the crowd are segrated into men and women (one member of the women's team was playing in a hijab) - a social rule that the Palestinians seemed happy for us to flout. Around us circulated children selling sunflower seeds, men with giant pots of tea and coffee, and a hundred swirling flags.

Even to my untrained eyes, the football was far from spectacular. But it was determined, and the spirit of the crowd was admirable, as they shouted and encouraged their teams. For the South Africa game, there were next to no women in the crowd, but for the women's teams, there was a huge turnout of both sexes. 

It is clear, from even the briefest of conversations, that the loyalty of most football-loving Palestinians lies with the mighty Spanish teams whose shirts they proudly wear. One man I spoke to questioned the wisdom of supporting a team from Catalonia, which has been historically non-muslim - but he admitted he was not much of a football fan. But there is something about the democracy of football, the freedom and universality of it, that makes it an incredible force for optimism within the occupied West Bank. And maybe, if countries around the world can accept Palestine on the pitch, perhaps they can also accept them at the beaurocratic tables of statehood.

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Sat, 22 Oct 2011 05:37:00 -0700 From an Olive Grove, Near Beit Leid http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-an-olive-grove-near-beit-leid http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-an-olive-grove-near-beit-leid It has been couple of weeks since a postcard last tumbled through your letterbox/twitter/facebook newsfeed, so I thought it was about time I gave you all a bit of an update. The main reason I wasn't available to treat you all to a missive from Palestine towards the end of the week was that I was merrily pulling green beads from gnarled and twisted trees on the stony side of a mountain just outside Nablus. That's right: it's olive picking season!
Olives are a vital part of the economy for people living in the villages of Palestine. Historically, the olives and, more importantly, the oil they produce, have been used in everything, from cooking to lamps. It's even used as an excellent massage oil in the local baths. Barrels and barrels are sold around the world, and provide a key source of revenue in the West Bank. And every olive on these barren hills must be picked by hand. The trees can last for hundreds of years, but it takes a decade of growth before they bear any fruit. A local English teacher, with whom we struck up a conversation in the taxi, even went as far as to describe the trees as "sacred", citing God's command to Moses to anoint with Olive oil.

But olive picking is under threat. The land on which the olive trees grow is often some distance from the village, and falls in land which is under Israeli control. Palestinians are often required to obtain permits from the Israeli authorities, or be forced to harvest illegally. In many cases, the olives are in close proximity to Israeli settlements. These settlements have been built in the occupied territory of the West Bank, and are considered illegal under international law. They are populated by Israeli citizens, who receive huge subsidies from the Israeli government. Inevitably, these settlers are often hard-line Zionists, who wish to see the whole region under the control of a Jewish Israeli state, free from Arabs, and who see their homes as part of a mission to claim the "Promised Land". The settlers are, more often than not, deeply antagonistic towards the farmers.

Often, the farmers must harvest their crop not only with the threat of the Israeli Defence Forces, but also with harassment from the settlers - who may throw stones and insults, or (much worse) they may burn down the farmer's trees). Sometimes they are armed. And the IDF? They're there to protect the settlers, not the farmers. So it can help to have an international presence with the farmers when they are picking olives, so the settlers and the IDF know they are being seen (and filmed, and photographed), and so the farmers know they are being represented. It is the sort of thing the ISM do all the time. 

Anyhow, a handful of us trekked out to Beit Leid for a couple of days to stay with a farming family there. They were wonderfully warm and welcoming, and fed us very well indeed. Although I got very sleep the night before (I was being eaten by an army of mosquitoes), I was up at the crack of dawn to journey out to the olive grove (telephoto lens at the ready), and assist in the tiring work of laying out tarpaulins, before pulling the olives from the trees either by hand, or with a small plastic rake. The sun was beating down, and it was dry, dusty, thirsty work. 

Fuelled by a hearty mid-morning breakfast, we carried on working until late afternoon, when we finally collapsed in the shade of one of the trees, surrounded by five bags brimming with the fruits of our labour. That's worth about £250 when it's sold to be pressed into oil.  That evening, we were escorted around the village to see the factory where the olives will be pressed, and to meet the extended family of those that we were staying with. We were relieved, and in a strange way slightly disappointed, to have got to the end of the day without any encounters with local settlers. However, we were very pleased to have got out of the city and been part of rural life, and incredibly grateful to our hosts for their hospitality.

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Sun, 09 Oct 2011 09:50:55 -0700 From Qalandia Check Point, West Bank Palestine http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-qalandia-check-point-west-bank-palestine http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-qalandia-check-point-west-bank-palestine

In a wonderful display of stereotype destruction, our friend and co-volunteer here at Project Hope, Abby, is Jewish. Most of the time, her presence ensures a re-assuring representation for all three of the major religions for whom this is a Holy Land (along with my Christianity, and a number of flavours of Islam). This weekend, she provided an opportunity to visit Jerusalem for Yom Kippur - The holiest Day in the Jewish Calendar.

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Setting off early on Friday morning (Arab busses don't run on Friday afternoons, Jewish busses don't run on Saturdays), We had a pretty uneventful ride to Ramallah - the largest city in the West Bank - and from there we were helped to find a No. 18 bus running to Jerusalem (despite the re-assurances to the contrary by a taxi driver, eager to secure our patronage) by a kind old Palestinian lady, who would be travelling with us. 

En route to Jerusalem, we were required to stop at a check point in Qalandia. This is not out of the usual, and (for Internationals) is usually a relatively straightforward affair. Israeli guards (with guns) board the bus, and request our passports, while the Palestinians onboard are required to evacuate the bus, and queue up for an indefinite period in a kind of cattle-pen, through which they are admitted one-by-one. This, at busy times, can take four hours (or more).

But, on account of the heightened security surrounding the Yom Kippur celebrations, all the passengers were required to leave the bus, and join the line. As we approached, people were emerging, and telling our Palestinian friend that the check point was closed. Still curious, we approached the turnstile. There were about seven people ahead of us in the line, but even in suh small numbers we found ourselves waiting for half an hour.

We watched as, one person at a time, the buzzer buzzed, the green light came on, and our co-queuers passed through the gate. Between the bars, we could see them placing their bags in the X-Ray machine, and approaching the security window. After passing over the relevant documents, and a brief discussion, they were returned the way they had come, with forlorn, but unsurprised faces.

We quickly identified that this was going to be preferential in our favour, and encouraged our Palestinian friend to join us - if she was with us, we reasoned, she may share some of the benefit of our passports. Thus, we would have won a small victory over the occupation and struck a moral blow to the IDF!

She and Abby passed through gate, and eventually approached the window. Despite Abby's protestations that she was, in fact with us, it was clear that she was not going to get through the gate. Meanwhile, we were waved through, with no further questions. In limited Arabic, we tried to express our regret to our new friend. On arrival in Jerusalem, we witnessed more displaced Muslims , praying at the Damascus Gate - the nearest they were allowed to the Dome of the Rock.

Subsequently, we had a wonderful time in Jerusalem - visiting the Western Wall and an overlooking Synagogue, eating bagels in the modern city, wandering the City Walls late at night and sitting watching Spooks on the roof of the Hostel. We made friends with a Los Angelesian (?) called Kevin, and managed to get up in time for my travel-companions to be back in Nablus for their 10.30 classes.

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Fri, 30 Sep 2011 07:39:00 -0700 Portraits of a City #1: The Old City http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/portraits-of-a-city-1-the-old-city http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/portraits-of-a-city-1-the-old-city

So I've realised that, although I've banged on a fair bit about politics, I haven't really told you lovely people anything about where I'm staying. So this week, and maybe in the weeks to follow, I will write a little about the city of Nablus, and its inhabitants.

Today, #1: The Larch The Old City.

 

Nablus is old. Unbelievably old. A bit of it, out towards the Askar camp, is around 4000-5000 years old, and somewhere around here is the site of the biblical city of Shechem. On the hill overlooking city is one of the two remaining Samaritan settlements in existence, and when, in John's Gospel, Jesus talks to the woman at the well... well, that was here.

 

So this is a place where history lies like a thick dust on every surface (incedentally, thick dust lies on anything that stays still for more than 5 minutes, around here). A mere 2000 years ago, in 72ad, the Emperor Vespasion rebuilt it as the city "Flavius Neapolis", and through the narrow streets and arches, a succession of empires have marched. Churches have become mosques, then churches, then mosques again. Buildings have been razed, and then rebuilt in their own particular style.

Walking around the tiny streets of the old city (now dwarfed buy modern Nablus), it isn't hard to imagine yourself in any century from the last two millenia. Precious little has changed, and there is little evidence of the incursions of modern living (save for the odd cable on a wall, or light to brighten an obscure alleyway.

Unlike Jerusalem, which bustles with tourists, and where stepping onto the street frequently feels like wading into a fast-flowing river, only to be sucked along with its currents, the back streets of Old Nablus are quiet, sleepy. Children play (and never cease to practise their English: "Hello. How you? What your name? Where you from?" - the is no verb 'to be' in Arabic), and cycle around. Sturdy steel doors lead through archways into small, tumbledown courtyards, around which hang washing and weeds (and cats, of course).

Passing through a doorway on a warm Thursday afternoon, we followed our local guide up a flight of stairs, across litter-strewn patch of undergrowth, and under a tiny arch. Stepping through, we walked into the beautiful, crumbling courtyard of a forgotten Ottoman palace from the 19th century. I know little of 19th century middle eastern architecture, but it was not hard to imagine this as a sun-dappled atrium, with a fountain gently flowing in the centre and luxurious fabrics adorning the floors and walls. 

Climbing yet higher, above the rooftops, and onto a dome that topped off the palace, we encountered and entrancing view, across the the domes and minarets of the old, stone city, past the concrete constructions of modern Nablus, and to the two peaks of Mount Ebal and Mount Gerizim (Curses and Blessings). So overwhelmed by the view were we that we returned (with a picnic) a few evenings later.

 

Occaisionally, excursions into the depths of the old city will lead to a small shop selling antique paraphenalia - old coins and lamps; or a cave of spices - where sacks of aromatic powders are lined up and clearly marked (if you can read Arabic. Otherwise, selecting a purchase involves a certain amount of sniffing and guesswork); sometimes you can find time to sit, drinking turkish coffee in a smoky, sawdust-floored shop; other times you might find youself in one of a handful of Turkish Baths.

In the depths of the city is one of the two remaining Nablusian soap factories. Soap has been a major export for over a thousand years.  It feels smooth and smells amazing - made in a more or less traditional method (although in far smaller quantities than former years) with Olive Oil, Water and Caustic Soda, and with no perfume at all. The factory is owned by the Touqans, who, in times past, were the most powerful families in Nablus. It was they that built the palace which now affords us such spectacular views.

In 2002, in the Second Intifada, the Israeli rolled their tanks into Nablus. To give themselves space in the old city, they knocked down two soap factories, forming a space which is now a derelict car park. The Touqan palace was used as a space for Palestinian fighters to hide (they have walled up windows to limit the entrances) and many walls in the city are adorned with posters of martyred fighters (which, disconcertingly, resemble action movie posters, with their heroes brandishing huge weapons).

This is a city where the past, as well as being cherished, cannot always be escaped. From the Roman and Byzantine stonework, to the places of worship with shifting landlords; from the coins sold in the antique shops, demonstrating an arab presence for hundreds of years, to the recently-rebuilt homes, destroyed in the last decade by Israeli forces - the past here is not so much another country, but the streets people walk down, the homes they live in, and for all too many people, a matter of unfinished business. History isn't something that gets put in a museum; it's a way of life.

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Sat, 24 Sep 2011 01:15:15 -0700 From the Rally for Palestinian Statehood, Nablus http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-the-rally-for-palestinian-statehood-nabl http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-the-rally-for-palestinian-statehood-nabl

As the socially engaged, intelligent, newsreading people I know you all are, I am sure you have noticed that there have been one or two little developments in the West Bank this week. And as your local correspondent in the aforementioned West Bank, it seemed tardy of me not to comment.

So everyone here has been talking about September for some time. "September", of course, is shorthand for the application of the PLO (Palestinian Authority) for Statehood. Students have been talking about it. People in Bars (Coffee, of course - Nablus is a dry city) have been talking about it. The Project Hope volunteers have talked about little else. But still i find my thoughts and emotions regarding it shifting from moment to moment.

I have just returned from joining the crowds as they stood together to watch and celebrate as Abbas submitted the application. The mood was ecstatic. 

On the surface of it, it seems like a wonderful prospect. Finally, the Palestinian people have found a way to seek statehood, which doesn't rely on Israel offering them independence. They can finally call themselves a state before the United Nations and negotiate not as merely the Occupied Territories, but as an Occupied State. Symbolically, this means a huge amount. This is what the crowds were celebrating.

But if we examine the small print, we notice a couple of things. First of all, this bid for statehood says little to nothing about the refugees. These are the people who have proved a stumbling block in all the negotiations so thus far. People who were removed from their homes in the 1940s, and have been living in refugee camps ever since. Is was the refusal of Israel to accept the return of refugees that led the Palestinian Authority to reject offers of statehood twice in previous negotiations. UN statehood offers nothing to them

Statehood also wouldn't change anything with regards to the occupation. The Palestinians would still go on living under Israeli rule, with daily curtailments of their freedoms and human rights. The Israeli government would still go on building (illegal) settlements on Palestinian soil, and the settlers would go on attacking Palestinians and using much of the limited supplies of water.

Unsurprisingly, there is little support for the statehood bid amongst those living towards the borders, or near settlements. They know that that, for all the rhetoric, the impact of this on their lives would be minimal.

Of course, Abbas knows all this. He knows that this is a broadly symbolic move. He knows that there are still swathes of problematic negotiations and agreements to be made. He also knows that with the impending veto from the US, all this is academic. It is, in essence, a huge publicity stunt for the vision of a Palestinian state.

To what end? In part, I imagine, political support from his own people. Just as Obama has shuffled towards Israel in a fairly blatant attempt to garner votes from the pro-Israeli lobby in the states, so it seems that this gesture has sent Abbas' stock soaring in the West Bank. But it's more than that. This is a chance for Palestinians to get noticed. A chance to put pressure on the Israelis to return to the negotiation table. A chance to get at some of the UN bodies who might better defend the people of Palestine.

It's a huge risk. It's getting people's hopes up, and ultimately, they will be disappointed - either in the short term (when statehood is not achieved) or the long (when it is found to be indistiguishable from the cureent situation). In this sense, Obama is right - there is no way that peace can be established without agreement between the two states. With all that disappointment floating around, the possibility of violence is far higher (last night, a Palestinian was shot by an Israeli soldier in a village down the road from Nablus), and some people anticipate that this could be the catalyst for a third intifada.

But I'm more optimistic than that. Perhpas its the defiantly positive mood around the streets of Nablus, but it seems to me that America and Israel are increasingly isolated. International onlookers are starting to ask questions about the way the Palestinians are being treated, and even starting to wonder if this isn't a little, well, colonial. The UN, who have declared the settlements and the wall in the West Bank illegal, have been forced to sit up an notice. If negotiations resume, which I very much hope they will, they will be conducted with a sense of urgency, and perhaps with a significance, that they have not previously held.

I for one, and the vast majority of Palestinian people I have met, hope for a peaceful outcome.

 

 

 

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Fri, 16 Sep 2011 21:49:00 -0700 From Askar Refugee Camp, Nablus http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-askar-refugee-camp-nablus http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-askar-refugee-camp-nablus

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On Thursday night, I went to a graduation ceremony! Of the details, I can't be entirely clear, but I know that it was a celebration of the success of a large number of young people - the event being marked by various performances of Dabka dancing (perhaps the Palestinian equivalent of Morris Dancing), readings, and martial arts demonstrations. A huge banner was erected. All the friends, and family (and anyone with a passing interest) turned out to be part of the huge crowd.

Which would be overwhelming enough, I suppose. But the really striking thing about the event is that it took place in one of Nablus' 3 refugee camps.

I don't know about you, but when I hear the term "Refugee Camp", my mind turns to images of families huddling in canvas tents. I imagine squalid conditions, and food provided by foreign aid being dispensed en-masse. I imagine people waiting for the war to end so they can return to their (damaged or destroyed) houses.

This is not entirely the case in  the 59 Palestinian refugee camps dotted around Syia, Lebanon, Jordan and the West Bank. They may still have animals roaming on piles of rubble and litter, but the residents live in concrete flats, drive cars, go to school, and (where lucky enough)have jobs. They, in many ways, lead similar lives to those Palestinians living down the road in Nablus. But with one major exception: they are waiting. 

In 1948, thousands of Palestinians were forced out of their homes by the Arab-Israeli war. Moving into refugee camps, they began waiting. Waiting for the conflict to end. Waiting for an opportunity to return to their homes. But the conflict hasn't ended, and four generations later they are still living in a permanent state of temporary housing. There are 4.6 million Palestinian refugees. Unsurprisingly, a key has become the symbol of this state of displacement, and the hope of a return.

This, I imagine, gives those people living in the camps a strange relationship with the concept of "home". From the outside, it's visible in the graffiti of Palestinian resitance and the way that some care for the exteriors of their homes more than others. I wonder how it feels to have grown up somewhere where your parents, and their parents grew up... and to always know that it isn't really "home"?

This really struck me when we were invited to visit the place where one of our friends lives - after the celebrations. We walked quickly but calmly past stray dogs (glad I had a rabies jab), hurried through narrow streets, and at one point interrupted a family wedding (even now I have little idea what was going on).

Eventually, we turned into a doorway, and up some bare concrete stairs. I was mentally preparing myself to encounter their shocking living conditions - how does one behave politely in such a situation? Should I express sympathy? Surprise? Or approach it with the same reserved appreciation I would in anyone's home?

I needn't have worried. Stepping out of the concrete corridor (where the roof was compost of a blue tarpaulin), I stepped into a perfectly fitted, furnished, middle class living room. Ok, so the decor was a little 1970s, but there was a computer in the corner, a plush sofa, and even laminate flooring. Our host provided us with a succession of snacks and drinks (I'm getting addicted to turkish coffee), while we played with their 5 daughters (or possibly nieces. It's hard to say). In the corner, some cousins played Grand Theft Auto.

So, how does this state of living affect a person? It's well documented that growing up on a council estate or in the projects is liable to lower your aspirations, change your worldview. What do you do when there's nowhere you can call home?

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Sun, 11 Sep 2011 22:43:00 -0700 A note about cats http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/a-note-about-cats http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/a-note-about-cats


Cat_nativity

 So, when I was a child, I had an advent calendar. On it, there was a nativity scene, with the infant christ surrounded by (in addition the the requisite Mary and Joseph, Kings, Shepherds, and oxen) a variety of different animals, whose presence suggested that the artist had not done a great deal of research. One that particularly irked me was a cat on the roof.

"There weren't cats in the ancient middle east" I said to myself, and probably to other people. What a ludicrous conceit - everyone knows that cats are cosy, friendly, warm creatures whose natural habitat is on the rug infront a blazing fire in a cottage in Dorset. Not the inhospitable streets of Palestine. 

But the evidence indicates that I was wrong. I should have known - after all, we all know the high esteem in which ancient egyptians held cats, and they were just down the road. Turns out that cats love hanging around, minesweeping the scraps spilt from cart in the souk, and nuzzling bags of non-specific foodwaste.

None of them seem to have clearly present owners, and they all look emaciated. But not unhealthy, and generally quite clean. Some of them are even friendly. Apart from the one that had crapped in the wash basin in my (otherwise spotless, welcoming, cheap) hostel.

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Fri, 09 Sep 2011 13:06:16 -0700 From the Heart of the Muslim Quarter, Old Jerusalem http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-the-heart-of-the-muslim-quarter-old-jeru http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-the-heart-of-the-muslim-quarter-old-jeru

Hey everyone!

Imag0251

I'm really sleepy. So i'm going to do this in bullet points.

Today i have:-

  • Travelled through Luton Airport
  • Got myself through Tel Aviv airport without losing ANYTHING! (although there was a brief moment of panic when i thought i'd left my passport on the plane)
  • Managed to successfully convince security that I am, in fact, in no way sympathetic to the Palestinian cause, and that I will definitely not be spending any of my time in the West Bank. I didn't feel very convincing, but they let me in.
  • Made friends with a (British) Human Rights student, with whom I navigated the streets of Jerusalem in order to...
  • Found my accomodation! Deep in the Muslin quarter, which is a kind of stone nest of ancient buildings and history and Palestinians and Jews and Christians, and just sort of wonderful. If contentious.
  • Taken Arabic language tips from the guy who runs the restaurant nearby. | identified the food as falling into the "chicken" and "chilli" catergories, but beyond that i'm stuck. I rather suspect, if i were to continue receiving language lessons from him, i would end up with the Arabic equivalent of a broad Cockney accent.
  • Made friends with a bunch of Palestinian teenagers.
  • Discovered that my hostel has wifi. So keep an eye out for updates!

Thanks for all your support and encouragement. Tomorrow I am going to head out and really get a good look around the old city. Expect pictures of street vendors, religious sites and CATS!

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Fri, 09 Sep 2011 00:10:00 -0700 Greetings from Luton Airport! http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/greeting-from-luton-airport http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/greeting-from-luton-airport

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I am sitting, eating a breakfast bap, keeping one eye on the departure board, and the other on my online time counter (11p/minute). This could quite possibly be the last pork product that passes my lips for some time, and although overpriced, I feel it is well-deserved after queueing for an hour to get through security - half the journey time from home!

But while I was shuffling along, feeling smug that instead of paying £3 to waltz through the fast track, I was squeezed between indie traveller kids in plaid shirts, and the "Darts Tarts on Tour", I realised that for a lot of Palestinians (ie. those who work on the Israeli side of the wall) this is a daily reality. Getting up at 4am, to travel to the check point, to queue for hours, crammed up against hundreds of other people. Taking 4 hours to make a journey that should last less than 2. Being treated with suspicion, and having to ensure all their paperwork is in order. But, I imagine, no bacon roll on the other side.

So I think I should see this as a learning experience. It will probably prove to be the most gentle learning experience of my day. Now I just have to get on a plane, get through Israeli immigration, and find my way to Jerusalem before everything shuts down for the Sabbath. Wish me luck!

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Thu, 08 Sep 2011 12:00:00 -0700 From My Ancestral Home in Wymondham... http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-my-ancestral-home-in-wymondham http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/from-my-ancestral-home-in-wymondham

...Also known as my parent's house.

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"My" bedroom is crammed full of all my worldly possesions. The bed in the spare room is covered with neat piles of socks, books and camera equipment (including 12 films for my beloved 1950s folding medium format). The crucial details of my trip have all been scanned and copied and some await my arrival, in the cloud (thanks Google Docs!). I have been jabbed with rabies the requisite three times. I have bought travel soap, travel toothbrushes, travel insurance. And, perhaps most importantly of all, I have uploaded a large chunk of my music collection onto my phone.

So, perhaps for the first time in my life, I am feeling relatively well organised. Which is fortunate, as I have a 4am start to catch the 9am flight from Luton tomorrow morning. Eugh. But this is a strange feeling. The calm before the storm. The waiting. In my case, there is a constant nagging anxiety that I may forget something really important (Phone charger? Passport?); but that's probably not a bad thing, as I think it is warding off other anxieties that one might have when they find themselves heading into a centre of international conflict. 

Reassuringly, in amongst the slightly concerned goodbyes, and the frequent "promise me you won't die"s, I have enountered a couple of people who have visited the West Bank themselves (among these people, my parents). These people are able to temper palpable concern with little asides like "oh, but you're going to love it", or "Nablus is a wonderful place" or (perhaps my favourite) "but it's great that you're doing it - the Palestinians are treated so badly".

So really, on balance, I'm feeling nervous... but sometimes I guess nerves are worth it. I'm not a thrill seeker by any stretch of the imagination (in fact, I think this trip would be a bad idea if i were), but i suppose that sometimes the anxiety and risks and unknown are outweighed by the sense that what we are doing is good, right, and in some way "worth it".

Will it be worth it? We'll find out. I fly tomorrow at 9.00.

 

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Fri, 19 Aug 2011 01:57:00 -0700 Operations HQ http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/operations-hq http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/operations-hq

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Dear All,

I currently have "To Do" lists coming out of my ears, nose, and any other orifice you care to imagine (you may not). So sorry for the protracted silence - I have been thinking of you all, I promise!

But exciting things have been afoot! I have been plotting and planning, and on Sunday evening (that's 21st August), at 7:30, I will be hosting a fundraising Hootenanny towards my work with Project Hope.  There is going to be live music from Monki Boy (a kind of comic singer-songwriter), a Quiz, and an opportunity to eat and drink well at the Workshop Cafe on Earlham Road. There'll be a £3 donation on the door, with all donations going towards Proejct Hope. I'd love to see you there!

Meanwhile, thanks to all those who have been making use of the Donate button down there on the bottom right of the page - I can assure you it does work! I really appreciate all the donations I have recieved - it's great to know so many people are interested in what I'm doing and are so keen to support me!

I hope you're all having a great summer holiday,

Matthew

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Mon, 01 Aug 2011 08:49:00 -0700 Salaam Alaikum! http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/salaam-alaikum http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/salaam-alaikum

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Almost immediately after I had begun to wrap my brains around my exit from my job at Acle High, I began to consider the imminence of my trip to Palestine. I mean, at that point, it wasn't really genuinely imminent - I didn't have anything prepared. I hadn't booked flights or organised dates or even really started fundraising. In fact, all I had was a successful interview with Project Hope and an invitation to join them in September. I may be unemployed, but I could still back out, right?

But if i was going to go really screw my courage ot the sticking place and do it, then I was going to need to get a move on. So on the first morning of my holidays/unemployment, I got online and within half an hour had booked an easyjet flight to and from Tel Aviv (9th September - 14th of December).

From then on, the question ceased being when I will go, or even whether I will go. It became "how I am going to prepare for going there?". What things do I need? What clothes am I going to wear? How will I make sure I know where i'm going and that I'm safe? What workshops am I going to deliver?  

This shift has opened the floodgates. I went into the city and returned with an armful of books - including Joe Sacco's wonderful "Palestine" - a journalistic graphic novel, covering the experience of living in Palestine in the early 90s. I would really recommend it to anyone wanting to get a better grasp of the human impact of the conflict between Israel and Palestine.

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Another, slightly more practical, text is a teach-yourself Arabic book, which came with some helpful CDs. All week, I have been walking around, headphones plugged in, mouthing what must sound like nonsense to passers by. Even the Arab-speaking ones. My progress has been sedentary, but I've been pleased to feel like I'm finally preparing to live in another country. 

I've also been thrashing my way through a History of Modern Israel, with a book entitled "Palestine Betrated" to follow up shortly. Next week, i'm taking a 2 day crash course in TEFL. Oh, and I bought some walking shoes, because I figured I'd need sturdy footwear.

So really, what I'd like is any tips and suggestions. Have you been to the Middle East? What do i need to know? Are there any social codes I MUST observe? What words and phrases will prove most useful in Arabic? Do you have any book recommendations? And above all, does anyone have experience educating young people in conflict areas? I look forward to hearing your thoughts!

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Sat, 23 Jul 2011 15:47:00 -0700 Dear all at Acle High... http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/dear-all-at-acle-high http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/dear-all-at-acle-high

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So, I am moving on.

I'm sadder about this than I ever really anticipated I would be. I had the best of times at Acle High School: seeing so many young people develop and blossom into confident, capable young adults; making a host of great friends and being part of the wonderful little Acle family. If you are one of the people that I have worked with over the last few years - as a student, a colleague, or a supportive parent - then I'd like to say a big 'thanks' for embracing me and the work I have been doing so wholeheartedly. I'd also like to wish all the best to Izzy as she take on the role of Student Mentor. I'm convinced she will be brilliant!

But you can only spend so much time encouraging young people to raise their aspirations before you yourself get bitten by the desire to find some new challenges. Over the last couple of week, I have spent a fair amount of time sharing with studetns some of the reality of what life is like for young people living on both sides of the divide in Israel and the Palestinian territories. Although the frequent question of "...but Sir, why are you going if it's so dangerous?" became more than a little unsettling, just talking through how it must feel to live in such a restless environment has re-affirmed my desire to spend some time alongside the people in Nablus.

So if you're and Acle person who has just started their summer holidays, and stumbled across the blog in High Notes, then welcome! I hope that through this blog I will, in a small way, be able to take you with me. 

All the best in 2011/12,

Matthew

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber
Sat, 18 Jun 2011 12:00:00 -0700 From Sunny Norwich, Oozing with Hayfever http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/57321104 http://postcardsfrompalestine.posterous.com/57321104

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Dear Everyone,

In September, I am going to be jumping on a plane and heading (via Tel Aviv) to Nablus, in West Bank Palestine. Once there, I shall be working with the wonderful Project Hope to deliver English Lessons and Creative Workshops to young people there.

It's been a long time in the making, but stepping off the plane in Palestine will just be one more step in a much longer journey.  My years of leading youth groups, studying creative writing, working with young people at The Garage and as a mentor in a high school, have all been steps in this journey.  Meanwhile, I have become increasingly concerned for those people affected by conflict in the West Bank.  The combination of all these experiences has compelled me to see what life for these people is really like, and to see how I might use my skills and experiences to serve. This is an ongoing journey and I'm excited to see what it brings next.

Education is one of the most precious things we can possess, and one of the greatest gifts we can offer; never is it more valuable than in situations of conflict and where freedoms are witheld. It can be a doorway out, a view of a better world, and a source of reconcilliation. I believe that the experience of coming up against a world where the minutiae of existence are defined by an unrest far beyond the control of any individual will be a reall education for me - I would like to share some of my experiences with you along the way.

But there are a few more steps along my jouney first - raising money, leaving my job, preparing myself to leave the UK. And since there is no postal service in Palestine, I won't be able to send postcards to you all individually. Instead, I will be posting regualr updates on this blog. Keep an eye on what i'm up to, say a prayer if you're religiously inclined, and please don't forget to donate. My paypal button is on the bottom right of the page...

For now, Much love and Many blessings

Matthew

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/1292753/19254_986158962390_1938973_54839023_6913700_n.jpg http://posterous.com/users/hcGCfmbcUZgsG Matthew Creber leftishmiddle Matthew Creber