This is a bit of an impromptu post due mostly to having a few hours to kill. I’m sitting in a café in Jerusalem Central Bus Station praying to the god of wireless internet and waiting for a bus to Eilat in southern Israel. My ultimate destination is Dahab on the Red Sea coast of Egypt’s Sinai desert where I will enjoy a week of beach bothering and scuba diving. Now before you curse me for being a Billy Bragg-a-lot and head for the exits allow me to explain how the next seven days will actually be the most stressful of my time in the Middle East.
Firstly a little background. I entered the country on a three month tourist visa which soon expires. I am leaving the country in order to renew the visa. However, it is far from certain that I will allowed to re-enter Israel as the border guards are incredibly suspicious of foreigners travelling alone and with intentions of staying for longer than a few days. When I first crossed over from Jordan in March I underwent three hours of questioning. Unlike most people in my position I stuck to the exact truth – I am volunteering for an NGO in Ramallah – and intend to do the same this time. I am told that I will be taking a big risk by doing this. I could quite easily be handed a 24 hour visa – just enough time to gather my belongings and get out.
Whatever happens I will have to prepare myself for hours of interrogation in the company of some of the most miserable buggers on the planet – Israeli border guards. Most are teenagers doing their military service and the only relief from their tedium is to torment ‘Arab sympathisers’ like me. No matter how lovely the beach or exhilarating the diving, throughout my time in Dahab the prospect of the border crossing will be there in the back of mind and in the bottom of my gut.
I am telling you this not in a feeble attempt to evoke sympathy (whatever happens I am only a few phone calls away from a flight back to Blighty and life on the dole) but in order to illustrate a little of what life is like for Palestinians living in the West Bank and Gaza. For every single minute of every single day uncertainty and anxiety dominate their thoughts; worrying whether they will be allowed through the checkpoint between their homes and workplaces; worrying how their brothers and sons, held unjustly in Israeli prisons, are being treated and what charges, if any, they face; not knowing if their sick mother will be permitted access to the only hospital in the region able to treat her heart condition. These are the day-to-day realities of the occupation – and I haven’t even got around to the violence and humiliation that lurks constantly in the background.
Now for some of the you that last paragraph will seem familiar, perhaps even clichéd, given the number of times you have read similarly emotive stuff in articles in the Guardian and Independent, prevalent during times, such as they are now, when Palestine is back in the media spotlight. Well, I won’t apologise. It was the truth when you last read it and it remains the truth now. If it bores you then go do something about it. There will be demos all over the UK this weekend. Go make yourself heard. (Find out more here www.palestinesolidarity.org). If all this is news to you then take 15 minutes and explore the same website for more background to the occupation and the events of the last few days.
It was never my intention to use this blog to preach and campaign but the actions of the Israeli military on Monday morning once again have me raging and just now I can’t bring myself to merely ramble about banalities (such as waiting for a bus). You have my word that in future my posts will be far more trivial.
In case you don’t believe me here are some photos of some kids playing frisbee (not that I would ever suggest that frisbee is trivial, mind). They were taken in April in an Arab Israeli village called Ein Rafa. An American NGO is taking frisbee to the kids and I couldn’t help but get involved. I especially enjoy the shot of the lad tripping and pushing the other lad in the 1st photo. I taught him that. I also taught the lad in the other 2 photos how to catch.
Here endeth the ramble.
(PS. Click the photos to enlarge. If you want to see more photos let me know and I'll email you the link to my online albums.)
Firstly a little background. I entered the country on a three month tourist visa which soon expires. I am leaving the country in order to renew the visa. However, it is far from certain that I will allowed to re-enter Israel as the border guards are incredibly suspicious of foreigners travelling alone and with intentions of staying for longer than a few days. When I first crossed over from Jordan in March I underwent three hours of questioning. Unlike most people in my position I stuck to the exact truth – I am volunteering for an NGO in Ramallah – and intend to do the same this time. I am told that I will be taking a big risk by doing this. I could quite easily be handed a 24 hour visa – just enough time to gather my belongings and get out.
Whatever happens I will have to prepare myself for hours of interrogation in the company of some of the most miserable buggers on the planet – Israeli border guards. Most are teenagers doing their military service and the only relief from their tedium is to torment ‘Arab sympathisers’ like me. No matter how lovely the beach or exhilarating the diving, throughout my time in Dahab the prospect of the border crossing will be there in the back of mind and in the bottom of my gut.
I am telling you this not in a feeble attempt to evoke sympathy (whatever happens I am only a few phone calls away from a flight back to Blighty and life on the dole) but in order to illustrate a little of what life is like for Palestinians living in the West Bank and Gaza. For every single minute of every single day uncertainty and anxiety dominate their thoughts; worrying whether they will be allowed through the checkpoint between their homes and workplaces; worrying how their brothers and sons, held unjustly in Israeli prisons, are being treated and what charges, if any, they face; not knowing if their sick mother will be permitted access to the only hospital in the region able to treat her heart condition. These are the day-to-day realities of the occupation – and I haven’t even got around to the violence and humiliation that lurks constantly in the background.
Now for some of the you that last paragraph will seem familiar, perhaps even clichéd, given the number of times you have read similarly emotive stuff in articles in the Guardian and Independent, prevalent during times, such as they are now, when Palestine is back in the media spotlight. Well, I won’t apologise. It was the truth when you last read it and it remains the truth now. If it bores you then go do something about it. There will be demos all over the UK this weekend. Go make yourself heard. (Find out more here www.palestinesolidarity.org). If all this is news to you then take 15 minutes and explore the same website for more background to the occupation and the events of the last few days.
It was never my intention to use this blog to preach and campaign but the actions of the Israeli military on Monday morning once again have me raging and just now I can’t bring myself to merely ramble about banalities (such as waiting for a bus). You have my word that in future my posts will be far more trivial.
In case you don’t believe me here are some photos of some kids playing frisbee (not that I would ever suggest that frisbee is trivial, mind). They were taken in April in an Arab Israeli village called Ein Rafa. An American NGO is taking frisbee to the kids and I couldn’t help but get involved. I especially enjoy the shot of the lad tripping and pushing the other lad in the 1st photo. I taught him that. I also taught the lad in the other 2 photos how to catch.
Here endeth the ramble.
(PS. Click the photos to enlarge. If you want to see more photos let me know and I'll email you the link to my online albums.)
