Home
Documents Archive

Commonterry Reports 6/9/2002

I have just left Nablus. The spirit of the people there amazes me. The heart of the Palestinian people beats louder than the Israeli tank fire. If you are feeling depressed, there is no better therapy than hanging with these extremely oppressed people. No one report can possibly explain the suffering Palestine endures. Everyone knows someone who has been murdered by the Israeli army. Most of the men and many of the boys have scars. “We all have a volcano in our heart.”

Yet, Nablus has more smiling faces than Boston. People tell jokes, (mostly about the occupation). Festivals are organized for the children, (schools are closed due to curfew). There is dancing and singing. People share everything. They lean on each other in ways we in the west find hard to fathom, (no Prozac in Palestine).

OK, so I will try to explain with one story. On August 31, I traveled with 5 Palestinians to Nablus. Osama, an ISM organizer asked me to help him escort a family he knew from Qalqilya to their home, (a pregnant mother and her 3 young daughters). They were in Nablus visiting her parents. They had not seen each other in 2 years. Curfew was lifted on this day, (the only day the city was open during my 2 weeks in Nablus), so we met in the city center. We got a taxi at 11:30am and travelled about 1 mile when we ran into a makeshift checkpoint with 2 tanks and 2 APC. We watched for a while as people mulled about hoping to cross. We watched and filmed for a while deciding what to do. The kids cried, (they must have known what we were thinking). As the crowd grew more restless, 2 soldiers fired over their heads sending most of the Palestinians running. 1 of the tanks and 1 of the APCs drove by into the city. After things calmed down, we tried to cross. (Going around over a mountain wo! uld have too hard on the family).

Slowly, we approached. Osama took more film. We asked if we could cross. A soldier said no. We asked again. A soldier picked up some garbage and made a line, (about 15 meters from the tank. We stood behind the line. We asked again if we could cross. A soldier told Osama (carrying one of the little girls), and I to walk over to the tank. We asked if we could cross, and the soldier said no. Osama asked if we could talk to the captain. He came over and asked me what I was doing. I told him I was helping this family get to Qalqilya. He yelled at me, “Now you have made me mad! Sit down next to the tank!”

This went on for over 2 hours. Twice I was asked if I wanted to be shot. They took Osama’s papers, and my passport and told me I was going to be deported. Eventually they calmed down and let the rest of the family come over to the tank. We got into a discussion with one of the soldiers. We asked him about the killing of innocent civilians. He said if 4 innocents died, but one “terrorist” was killed, it made him feel calm. When I told him I believed in love your enemy, he asked me if I loved him. I said, I love you, but not your gun. He cradled his M-16 and said, “This is my baby. It has kept me alive for 3 years.” At 2:15 they let us go.

Next, we walked through a plastics factory with an open sewer. We reached an open road again after 30 minutes, but we could not get a taxi. Lenore, (the oldest girl, 5 years old), and I walked down the street hand in hand. She was very strong, and easy to get to laugh without tanks in sight. At 3 o’clock, a man with a donkey cart gave the family and our bags a lift, while Osama and I walked. At 3:30 we arrived at another checkpoint. I was questioned first. A soldier asked me what the tall building with a round top was in Boston. I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about. He said, you know, the building they show at the start of “Frazier” on TV. I don’t watch “Frazier”. But I thought about it, and realized Frazier must have moved from Boston to Seatle after “Cheers”. He apologized, and asked me to move away. He then questioned Osama for 10 minutes. Then we passed. The donkey driver brought us away from the soldiers to a big tree with plenty of shade. Another donkey car! t came down from a village up a hill with a big bottle of water for us. We waited.

At 4 a truck let us squeeze inside where the back seat used to be. They drove us up over a big hill on a dirt road where we met a taxi. After about 5 minutes in the taxi we realized that Lenore’s new school clothes were still in the truck. With the help of many of his neighbors, we found the farm the truck was from and got the clothes back. At 5:30 the taxi dropped us off at a road block. After 15 minutes we hitched a ride in a van. At 6, we were at the checkpoint in Qalqilya. After chatting pleasantly with a soldier, (a very mean soldier according to Osama), about the USA, we got a taxi ride into town. At 6:10 we dropped off the family. They were most grateful, and happy to be home.

Peace and Love, Terry

Home
Documents Archive