Toine Van Teeffelen
The Writing on the Wall IV
The following is part of a series of interviews with Palestinians who live close to the Wall. Three questions
are asked: How is your daily life influenced by the Wall and the checkpoints? What
does freedom mean to you? What are your sources of energy? The interviews are made
by Toine van Teeffelen for the www.verbindingverbroken.nl [connection lost] website
of United Civilians for Peace, an umbrella of Dutch development organizations and
peace movements. The interviews can be copied for website use as long as the source
is mentioned.
MAHA ABU DAYYEH: "AS LONG AS THERE IS A SOCIETY THAT RESISTS THERE IS HOPE."
Interviewer: Toine Van Teeffelen
Maha Abu Dayyeh is director of the Women's Center for Legal Aid and Counseling (WCLAC) in Jerusalem.
My office is close to my house-I just walk across the street. Now, the Wall ends just before the intersection of where I cross. When its construction is completed, I will have to drive all the way through Qalandia checkpoint, turn right around, and cross the checkpoint again and go to Dahiet Al-Barid, before I can get to my office! I live on the left hand side of the street going from Jerusalem to Ramallah which is the Jerusalem side. However, all the services for my daily existence will be on the side that will be blocked off. Think about getting vegetables or food, or getting maintenance and household support. Half of all Jerusalemite Palestinians are going to suffer from this because electricians or maintenance people all live in areas that are blocked off. Because they will be harder to get, they will be more expensive. Life is going to become much more expensive, and not only monetarily. We also will pay heavy social and emotional costs. We will become disconnected-literally and figuratively-from family and friends. Going to them in Ramallah or Beit Jala, places actually not very far from here, will be very difficult.
MAHA ABU DAYYEH: "AS LONG AS THERE IS A SOCIETY THAT RESISTS THERE IS HOPE."
Interviewer: Toine Van Teeffelen
Maha Abu Dayyeh is director of the Women's Center for Legal Aid and Counseling (WCLAC) in Jerusalem.
My office is close to my house-I just walk across the street. Now, the Wall ends just before the intersection of where I cross. When its construction is completed, I will have to drive all the way through Qalandia checkpoint, turn right around, and cross the checkpoint again and go to Dahiet Al-Barid, before I can get to my office! I live on the left hand side of the street going from Jerusalem to Ramallah which is the Jerusalem side. However, all the services for my daily existence will be on the side that will be blocked off. Think about getting vegetables or food, or getting maintenance and household support. Half of all Jerusalemite Palestinians are going to suffer from this because electricians or maintenance people all live in areas that are blocked off. Because they will be harder to get, they will be more expensive. Life is going to become much more expensive, and not only monetarily. We also will pay heavy social and emotional costs. We will become disconnected-literally and figuratively-from family and friends. Going to them in Ramallah or Beit Jala, places actually not very far from here, will be very difficult.
The Writing on the Wall III
The following is part of a series of interviews with Palestinians who live close to the Wall. Three questions
are asked: How is your daily life influenced by the Wall and the checkpoints? What
does freedom mean to you? What are your sources of energy? The interviews are made
by Toine van Teeffelen for the www.verbindingverbroken.nl [connection lost] website
of United Civilians for Peace, an umbrella of Dutch development organizations and
peace movements. The interviews can be copied for website use as long as the source
is mentioned.
Hania Bitar: "WE TRY TO CHALLENGE WHAT CANNOT BE CHALLENGED."
Interviewer: Toine Van Teeffelen
Hania Bitar is director-general of the Palestinian youth association Pyalara (Palestinian Youth Association for Leadership and Rights Activation).
When the whole story of the Wall started I was somehow dealing with it in disbelief. It was something that was about to happen, but at the time I was pushing it away, or I dealt with it from a journalistic or political point of view. It was being built in this area or that area, but still it was far away. It was not part of my life. But when they started constructing the Wall in Ar-Ram area where I cross, where I work and live, suddenly this thing forced itself upon my existence, my daily life, upon my day and night. Every time I looked out of the window I saw the Wall. It was really shocking. Suddenly this wall of concrete cement became very scary.
Hania Bitar: "WE TRY TO CHALLENGE WHAT CANNOT BE CHALLENGED."
Interviewer: Toine Van Teeffelen
Hania Bitar is director-general of the Palestinian youth association Pyalara (Palestinian Youth Association for Leadership and Rights Activation).
When the whole story of the Wall started I was somehow dealing with it in disbelief. It was something that was about to happen, but at the time I was pushing it away, or I dealt with it from a journalistic or political point of view. It was being built in this area or that area, but still it was far away. It was not part of my life. But when they started constructing the Wall in Ar-Ram area where I cross, where I work and live, suddenly this thing forced itself upon my existence, my daily life, upon my day and night. Every time I looked out of the window I saw the Wall. It was really shocking. Suddenly this wall of concrete cement became very scary.
Elections
by Toine van Teeffelen
January 10, 2005
Taking small steps we walk along the University Road to reach the voting station at the Arab Women's Union. It is cold but sunny weather. Imm Hannah, Mary's mother, walks slowly due to a stroke years ago, while Tamer has his own reasons not to keep pace. At the station the atmosphere is quiet and relatively orderly; even gay since people are meeting and talking with each other surrounded by flags and helpful officials. Mary and her sister Janet vote, but Imm Hannah not. Some months ago Janet had taken her mother's ID to register her, but without her physical presence registration turned out to be not possible. Then there was the promise or the rumor that officials would pass by at Imm Hannah's house, which never happened. Officials in the voting station now explain that she can vote in another quarter, but she finds that too far, and she is anyway not that much motivated. After the voting, Mahed [Manger] TV, one of the local Bethlehem TV stations, interviews Janet and her mother about what they expect their candidate to do. Solving the Palestine question and bringing peace, says Janet plainly, also on behalf of her mother. Much of the family sees them on TV later on.
Tamer is not interested in the TV but is rather fascinated by the ink that has been put on Mary's and Janet's thumbs. He also wants to vote and get a mark of that beautiful ink. It is supposed to be indelible ink to prevent people voting twice. I urge Mary to check it out since in other countries, like Afghanistan, such ink was easily faded out. During the day we hear reports from the campaign headquarters of the candidate Mustapha Bargouthi that in several villages in the West Bank not indelible but normal ink was provided that was easily removed with saliva or acetone. Mary tries acetone on her thumb, but that doesn't work. However, our neighbour has a strong American chemical substance that removes dirty spots from clothes. It works quickly indeed. But who can obtain something special like that, asks Mary.
January 10, 2005
Taking small steps we walk along the University Road to reach the voting station at the Arab Women's Union. It is cold but sunny weather. Imm Hannah, Mary's mother, walks slowly due to a stroke years ago, while Tamer has his own reasons not to keep pace. At the station the atmosphere is quiet and relatively orderly; even gay since people are meeting and talking with each other surrounded by flags and helpful officials. Mary and her sister Janet vote, but Imm Hannah not. Some months ago Janet had taken her mother's ID to register her, but without her physical presence registration turned out to be not possible. Then there was the promise or the rumor that officials would pass by at Imm Hannah's house, which never happened. Officials in the voting station now explain that she can vote in another quarter, but she finds that too far, and she is anyway not that much motivated. After the voting, Mahed [Manger] TV, one of the local Bethlehem TV stations, interviews Janet and her mother about what they expect their candidate to do. Solving the Palestine question and bringing peace, says Janet plainly, also on behalf of her mother. Much of the family sees them on TV later on.
Tamer is not interested in the TV but is rather fascinated by the ink that has been put on Mary's and Janet's thumbs. He also wants to vote and get a mark of that beautiful ink. It is supposed to be indelible ink to prevent people voting twice. I urge Mary to check it out since in other countries, like Afghanistan, such ink was easily faded out. During the day we hear reports from the campaign headquarters of the candidate Mustapha Bargouthi that in several villages in the West Bank not indelible but normal ink was provided that was easily removed with saliva or acetone. Mary tries acetone on her thumb, but that doesn't work. However, our neighbour has a strong American chemical substance that removes dirty spots from clothes. It works quickly indeed. But who can obtain something special like that, asks Mary.
Feast of the Tree
by Toine van Teeffelen
LETTER FROM BETHLEHEM (68)
January 31, 2005
When telling Jara and Tamer stories from Dutch children's books before they go to bed, I do not always use exactly the same words as those printed in the book. For instance, the books sometimes express a rather individualized culture that is quite removed from what Jara and Tamer experience in Bethlehem. One book (from the famous Gouden Boekje - Golden Booklet - series, which I used to devour myself when I was young), titled Meneer de Hond [Mister Dog], features a speaking dog and a boy who fraternize and come to live with each other in a little house. But each wants the food for himself as "they had learnt to take care of themselves," and the boy does not want to share his cotelette with the dog. But living together and not sharing food is something quite unthinkable in this culture. So in order not to disturb Tamer's mental map of the world, I told him that the boy and the dog were sharing everything. Tamer himself is in fact fond of sharing whatever he can share or rather upon what he can lay his hands - including vitamins, coffee and shampoo. It is a real game for him. Recently, he learned to imitate that startled look of incomprehension on the face of the Arab host when the guest does not want to take something that is being offered: Kull! [eat] Ishrab! [drink].
But it also happens that the Dutch books emit a political message that I do not wish to repeat to the kids. Many years ago a well-intentioned lady gave me a book about "Donald goes to Israel." For her, Palestine was Israel, and she did not realize that Israel is not the name which Palestinians use for their country. But the book became one of Jara's favorites after I changed the name of Israel into Palestine, the kibbutz into a Palestinian village, and Moshe into Musa. The book was about Donald and grandma Duck visiting the Israeli feast of trees [Tu Bishevat, in Hebrew]. The Ducks, of course, came to help the pioneers in planting trees so as to make the desert bloom. I changed the scene of Israeli children having pillow-fights at the sleeping room of the kibbutz into a social event at a Palestinian summer camp. Organizing summer camps is very popular here these days as most families are unable to travel outside their areas during the long summer holidays.
LETTER FROM BETHLEHEM (68)
January 31, 2005
When telling Jara and Tamer stories from Dutch children's books before they go to bed, I do not always use exactly the same words as those printed in the book. For instance, the books sometimes express a rather individualized culture that is quite removed from what Jara and Tamer experience in Bethlehem. One book (from the famous Gouden Boekje - Golden Booklet - series, which I used to devour myself when I was young), titled Meneer de Hond [Mister Dog], features a speaking dog and a boy who fraternize and come to live with each other in a little house. But each wants the food for himself as "they had learnt to take care of themselves," and the boy does not want to share his cotelette with the dog. But living together and not sharing food is something quite unthinkable in this culture. So in order not to disturb Tamer's mental map of the world, I told him that the boy and the dog were sharing everything. Tamer himself is in fact fond of sharing whatever he can share or rather upon what he can lay his hands - including vitamins, coffee and shampoo. It is a real game for him. Recently, he learned to imitate that startled look of incomprehension on the face of the Arab host when the guest does not want to take something that is being offered: Kull! [eat] Ishrab! [drink].
But it also happens that the Dutch books emit a political message that I do not wish to repeat to the kids. Many years ago a well-intentioned lady gave me a book about "Donald goes to Israel." For her, Palestine was Israel, and she did not realize that Israel is not the name which Palestinians use for their country. But the book became one of Jara's favorites after I changed the name of Israel into Palestine, the kibbutz into a Palestinian village, and Moshe into Musa. The book was about Donald and grandma Duck visiting the Israeli feast of trees [Tu Bishevat, in Hebrew]. The Ducks, of course, came to help the pioneers in planting trees so as to make the desert bloom. I changed the scene of Israeli children having pillow-fights at the sleeping room of the kibbutz into a social event at a Palestinian summer camp. Organizing summer camps is very popular here these days as most families are unable to travel outside their areas during the long summer holidays.
Writing On the Wall Part 2
by Toine van Teeffelen
[Note: This article is part of a series of interviews with Palestinians who live close to the Wall. Three questions
are asked: How is your daily life influenced by the Wall and the checkpoints? What
does freedom mean to you? What are your sources of energy? The interviews are made
by Toine van Teeffelen for the www.verbindingverbroken.nl [connection lost] website
of United Civilians for Peace, an umbrella of Dutch development organizations and
peace movements. The interviews can be copied for website use as long as the source
is mentioned.]
Terry Boullata: "BIT BY BIT THE WALL BECAME MORE TANGIBLE"
Terry Boullata is head of a private school in Abu Dis and an advocacy worker.
I am 38 years old, and I am from Jerusalem. I was born and lived all my life here, and I am proud of that. I married 14 years ago with a man from Abu Dis who carries a West Bank ID card. I am myself carrying a Jerusalem ID. I studied at Jerusalem schools and then at Birzeit University. During the first Intifada I was arrested four times; the last time, while I was working as a fieldworker for a human rights organization, I was released after intervention of the former American president Jimmy Carter and Mme Mitterand. Later on I opened my own private school in Abu Dis, thinking that I should help in the development of the community I'm living in. I started the school in 1999 with loans from agencies and banks and it's still working. Altogether I have 225 children from kindergarten up to the fifth grade elementary. But this year I lost around 77 children due to the building of Wall, which is less than 0,5 km from the school. Due to the loss of income I'm now also working as an advocacy worker for the Palestinian campaign for Freedom and Peace which was initiated with the visit this year of Dr Arun Gandhi, the grandson of Mahatma Gandhi.
Terry Boullata: "BIT BY BIT THE WALL BECAME MORE TANGIBLE"
Terry Boullata is head of a private school in Abu Dis and an advocacy worker.
I am 38 years old, and I am from Jerusalem. I was born and lived all my life here, and I am proud of that. I married 14 years ago with a man from Abu Dis who carries a West Bank ID card. I am myself carrying a Jerusalem ID. I studied at Jerusalem schools and then at Birzeit University. During the first Intifada I was arrested four times; the last time, while I was working as a fieldworker for a human rights organization, I was released after intervention of the former American president Jimmy Carter and Mme Mitterand. Later on I opened my own private school in Abu Dis, thinking that I should help in the development of the community I'm living in. I started the school in 1999 with loans from agencies and banks and it's still working. Altogether I have 225 children from kindergarten up to the fifth grade elementary. But this year I lost around 77 children due to the building of Wall, which is less than 0,5 km from the school. Due to the loss of income I'm now also working as an advocacy worker for the Palestinian campaign for Freedom and Peace which was initiated with the visit this year of Dr Arun Gandhi, the grandson of Mahatma Gandhi.
The Writing on the Wall I
[Note: The following article is part of a series of interviews with Palestinians who live close to the Wall. Three questions
are asked: How is your daily life influenced by the Wall and the checkpoints? What
does freedom mean to you? What are your sources of energy? The interviews are made
by Toine van Teeffelen for the www.verbindingverbroken.nl website
of United Civilians for Peace, an umbrella of Dutch development organizations and
peace movements. The interviews can be copied for website use as long as the source
is mentioned].
Jizelle Salman from Beit Jala is English language teacher and youth coordinator at the Arab Educational Institute in Bethlehem.
Jizelle Salman: "When you come back here, you feel a magnet"
I need to take a detour to get to my house. I used to take a road which has now become an Israeli checkpoint and military camp. We've heard last year that the land on the hill above my house, which we cultivated for many years, will be expropriated in order to build the Wall and next to it a military road. This was of course most difficult news for us. The Wall will be at a distance of only 6-12 meters from our house. We will be imprisoned by a Wall above our house, where there is the Har Gilo settlement, as well as a Wall below our house. Above our own lands the Greek Orthodox Convent has lands, and beneath our home the Salesian Convent has lands. Both convents started court cases against the Israeli army. Because these are churches which the Israelis respect to some extent, we may perhaps be supported. The Israelis have been announcing that they are changing the route of the Wall, but up until now we haven't been informed.
Jizelle Salman from Beit Jala is English language teacher and youth coordinator at the Arab Educational Institute in Bethlehem.
Jizelle Salman: "When you come back here, you feel a magnet"
I need to take a detour to get to my house. I used to take a road which has now become an Israeli checkpoint and military camp. We've heard last year that the land on the hill above my house, which we cultivated for many years, will be expropriated in order to build the Wall and next to it a military road. This was of course most difficult news for us. The Wall will be at a distance of only 6-12 meters from our house. We will be imprisoned by a Wall above our house, where there is the Har Gilo settlement, as well as a Wall below our house. Above our own lands the Greek Orthodox Convent has lands, and beneath our home the Salesian Convent has lands. Both convents started court cases against the Israeli army. Because these are churches which the Israelis respect to some extent, we may perhaps be supported. The Israelis have been announcing that they are changing the route of the Wall, but up until now we haven't been informed.
The Mountain Shakes
by Toine van Teeffelen
November 5, 2004
We all cannot sleep, this Friday early morning. Mary, Jara and I sit around the TV to watch the latest news about Arafat. The best news on offer is the announcement that he is not yet dead but in coma, a "reversible coma," it is said later on. Palestinian spokespersons in Ramallah and Paris were yesterday contradicting each other. I am reminded of the repeated complaints, at a recent conference, by young Palestinian media students about the presence of multiple spokespersons at the PNA. Jara solemnly announces that she hopes that "our leader will not die." Mary tells about the students at Bethlehem University who yesterday were repeating a slogan about the Palestinian struggle often used by Arafat himself: "Ya jabal, ma hizzaq reeh" [Oh mountain, don't let the wind shake you]. Now Arafat himself is shaken. Mary gets angry when she watches settlers dancing and celebrating in the streets of Jerusalem: "Hayawanaat" [animals], she throws out.
-------------------------------------------------------
Yesterday she and our friend expressed their genuine sadness about Arafat's situation. Standing near our door-post the friend pointed at an orange-colored butterfly on the wall. "Usually this type of butterfly is said to bring good news, but now there is nothing of that. Look at Arafat," she continued, "how he was humiliated during the last years, left alone in his dilapidated bunker, never treated as a president should be treated. He is like the Palestinian people, he was walked upon like we all are walked upon. Nobody cares." She thought that Arafat should have better stayed in the Muqata'a in Ramallah, in his working place. Struggling against his illness he should have remained among his own people rather than allowing himself to be dependent upon an Israeli permission to leave Ramallah and his country. "It doesn't feel good."
November 5, 2004
We all cannot sleep, this Friday early morning. Mary, Jara and I sit around the TV to watch the latest news about Arafat. The best news on offer is the announcement that he is not yet dead but in coma, a "reversible coma," it is said later on. Palestinian spokespersons in Ramallah and Paris were yesterday contradicting each other. I am reminded of the repeated complaints, at a recent conference, by young Palestinian media students about the presence of multiple spokespersons at the PNA. Jara solemnly announces that she hopes that "our leader will not die." Mary tells about the students at Bethlehem University who yesterday were repeating a slogan about the Palestinian struggle often used by Arafat himself: "Ya jabal, ma hizzaq reeh" [Oh mountain, don't let the wind shake you]. Now Arafat himself is shaken. Mary gets angry when she watches settlers dancing and celebrating in the streets of Jerusalem: "Hayawanaat" [animals], she throws out.
-------------------------------------------------------
Yesterday she and our friend expressed their genuine sadness about Arafat's situation. Standing near our door-post the friend pointed at an orange-colored butterfly on the wall. "Usually this type of butterfly is said to bring good news, but now there is nothing of that. Look at Arafat," she continued, "how he was humiliated during the last years, left alone in his dilapidated bunker, never treated as a president should be treated. He is like the Palestinian people, he was walked upon like we all are walked upon. Nobody cares." She thought that Arafat should have better stayed in the Muqata'a in Ramallah, in his working place. Struggling against his illness he should have remained among his own people rather than allowing himself to be dependent upon an Israeli permission to leave Ramallah and his country. "It doesn't feel good."
