Lutfiyeh, Hurriyeh

by Ed Mast

We spent last night with Lutfiyeh and family in Ramallah.

Linda and Lutfiyeh are sisters of the heart, and it’s a deep pleasure to watch the joy that Linda’s simple presence brings to Lutfiyeh’s grim weary life. Husband Mahmoud is gracious and gentle as ever, limping slightly on a wounded toe. Soldiers, we ask? No, he stubbed it on a stairway. When we arrived at their home in Ramallah, they were fiddling with a newly-installed ramshackle kerosene heater, like a big lantern in the middle of the main room of their apartment, attempting to supply heat in freezing cold winter when gas and electricity are unreliable. At this moment the electricity is on, enough for us to watch TV and see an Arab singer named Edward sing the popular song “Linda, Linda.”

Older daughter Raya is away at university near Jenin, so the only child at home is young Hurriyeh. When I first met Hurriyeh years ago, she was a little girl with only one primary expression: a radiant cheerful friendly smile. She still likes to smile and giggle, but the smile is varied by other expressions now: a sad look, a puzzled look, a look of intense worried total concern. This last will come suddenly, when an APC drives by, when her mother Lutfiyeh begins to talk about Majd, or even when the phone rings, because it might be Majd calling from Ashkelon Prison.

One whole wall of the apartment has nothing but photos of Majd, the 19-year old son who was arrested in April along with all the other males in his builing. Lutfiyeh speaks slowly when asked about him. Hurriyeh travels every Sunday across Israel to visit her older brother in prison for one hour. 13-year old Hurriyeh is the only family member allowed to visit Majd. As it happens, she was born in Jerusalem, so she shows her birth certificate and is allowed to travel across Israel. Also, since she is not yet 16, she does not yet have the compulsory ID card that all Palestinians in the Occupied Territories must carry. In three years, Hurriyeh will be forced to carry the Palestinian ID, and her visits to Majd in prison will end.

Bullets Through the Wall in Gaza

by Molly

Hello guys, I’m so sorry for the long time with no info. I cant believe how much has happenned in the what, 7 days since I last wrote? I’m back in jerusalem now and I thought a lot of you wouldn’t want to hear about my week until I was safely here in the Old City. 🙂

On, the 22 or 23 – I cant remember – me and Firyal and three of her kids- Rula, Ihab and Mohammed, were sitting in the living room of their house. I was reading and they were sitting on the ground doing homework. We heard shots that were pretty close and they then sounded like they were hitting the building, so all of us got down. Then shots must have come through the cement block kitchen wall. We were all screaming and Firyal and I tried to get on top of the kids and I turned off the gas heater and there was just concrete flying thorough the air and I thought for sure it wasnt just bullets but some sort of larger explosion. We had to run down the stairs that are unprotected from the tank fire to get to safety. We huddled and giggled and ate oranges downstairs in their grandmothers house. I was shaking and so was Firyal.

Finally, tanks still sitting outside, we went back upstairs (just Firyal and Mustafa and me). Me and Firyal wanted to sleep somewhere else but Mustafa said no we were staying. We talked about why they stayed and they just dont have enough money to move – expensive rent in Rafah is 100 dollars a month and knowing how much I spend and how easy it would be to give them 100 dollars a month killed me, becuase I knew I couldnt do it.

Mustafa went into the bedroom and Firyal went in and found him crying. She was horrified. It turns out it was just bullets, 4 actually, and there was one that would have found my head had I been sitting where I was seconds before the bullet came through. The shots were also really low whereas before they had been relatively high – you get down no problem – not so this time. This random shooting into occupied houses happens all day and all night in most of the neighborhoods in Rafah and there’s nothing anyone there can do about it. It’s how most of the people (kids) died when I was there. These arent homes of criminals or ‘terrorists’ they are just families who happen to live near this stupid wall.

Anyway, the next day we went out to let the army know we were there, we went with big signs saying “The World Is Watching” and we found some towers, tanks and bulldozers. We were really close to my house and the whole family was up in the top floor waving at us like we were their heroes or something. It was amazing to me that there in Rafah no one pays attention. There’s no media, there’s no international presence, there’s no nothing and the army knows it and the people know it. So many of them were happy that we were just there, even if we couldn’t stop anything or change anything.

Later that day I got a call from Mustafa. I couldnt understand him so I gave the phone to someone who could, and he said Mustafa just wanted to say hi. A few hours later Ahmed (Mustafas cousin) called. I gave the phone to someone and they told me that the home I had been staying in had been demolished. I wanted to go to them, but i couldn’t becuase it was too dangerous. I should have just gone, but in Rafah we ALWAYS have to have an escort, especially women and I knew they would freak out if I just ran over. So I couldn’t eat and I had bad dreams all night about what was happening and not being able to be with them.

Apparently at two in the afternoon a bulldozer just came, no warning, no nothing and just knocked one of the walls down of this four story building where Firyal was cooking dinner and the kids were studying. They were hysterical. They ran away and there was massive firing from the tanks as they all ran out of the building. My friend Hendrick who had been staying next door spent the night there and apparently it was like hell. There were huge explosions, the army turned off the electricity and sent in troops, the troops set up dynamite and an Apache helicopter was in the air watching everything. They all left, again under massive fire from the now 12 tanks.

We went the next day and it was awful. We got shot at again and I didnt really want to take pictures becuase I felt so sick and was crying so hard. This was home to 6 families. The day before, one of the sisters had shown me this huge closet full of beautiful clothes she had made. Now it was all gone. This place that Mustafa and his brothers and cousins had built with their own hands. This family had turned into my family (just the night before Mustafa said that he was just as worried about me after the shooting as he had been about his family and that before there were 6 people in his family and now there were 7) and their heartbreak was mine, only mine was so so so so small in comparison. All the men were in the corner of this ruined home crying, holding each other and the women were outside just sort of staring.

I’m sorry this is so long. I’m getting tired of writing and I’m sure if any of you have read this far, you’re tired of reading too :). The story has something of a happy ending: they found a new house, it’s smaller and not as nice, but it’s a home which is more than many of these families end up with. Even so, Mustafa cried again today. I got to help them move in and spend the first couple of nights with them again, which helped me anyway :). Mustafa was very sad to see me go today, but I think pretty excited to have his wife and bed back :).

Now I’m here in Jerusalem and I thought I’d be happy to be free, free from constant watching and escorting and staring and coffee :), but I just feel really really lonely. I miss them so much, and all the people I met that were so sweet and open and wonderful. And I hate that this happens every day there, every day. That same day there were 12 houses demolished, which equates to like maybe 30-40 families without a home. And there’s no one to help them or to stop this and I hate it and it’s wrong and I paid for it and you guys paid for it. They can’t leave, no one in Gaza can leave, it’s a huge prison and they are stuck there. They dream to see Jerusalem, tall buildings, anything not Rafah. How is this possible? How can people do this and others not try to stop it? And how can we even try to stop it?

Anyway, I’ll see you all soon and I’m happy for that.

Palestinians and Internationals Attacked in Falamia

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

[Falami, Qalqilia District] This morning at 8:00 am Palestinian Falami farmers along with a group of approximately 20 International civilians were attacked by hired Israeli Security Personnel as they tried to peacefully protest the destruction of the Palestinian agricultural land.

Israeli government contractors along with Israeli private security overlooked by the Israeli military continued to chop down trees and even managed to destroy 10-15 trees. As the group of internationals peacefully came between the contractors and trees ready to be chopped down the hired security personnel (hired security personnel are usually Israeli soldiers or Israeli police) began to aggressively push volunteers away from the trees. Volunteers who wouldn’t step away from the trees began “hugging” the trees as their bodies were being pulled away by the security personnel. Many volunteers had been attacked by the Israeli security and three had sustained minor injuries.

Adam Keller, late 40’s Israeli citizen, a volunteer from the Gush Shalom Organization was attacked and kicked by the security personnel and was almost cut in half by a chainsaw as he hugged the tree while the contractor was chopping the tree.

Tom Dale, 18 year old British citizen was also attacked by the security personnel as he stood chatting with a group of volunteers. Tom was also beaten and kicked as the Israeli military stood by and watched and sustained bruises on his body.

Emily Winkelstein, 27 years old and a U.S. citizen sustained scratches on her body as she was being dragged away.

Heidi Niggeman, 29 years old a German citizen was beaten and punched in the stomach as she tried to stop a contractor/worker from Chopping down a tree with a chainsaw.

Dan O’ Reilly-Rowe, 25 years old Australian/ American was kicked in the stomach and attacked repeatedly by the security personnel as he held on to save the tree from being destroyed. Dan was nailed to the ground 5-6 times by the security men and is suffering from a twisted ankle.

Yesterday and today Palestinian farmers and internationals have been partially successful in delaying any more destruction of their land.

Tomorrow morning November 5, 2002 at 8:00 AM Palestinian farmers and International volunteers will again sit on the land. The French Ambassador along with members of the Israeli Parliament will accompany the Palestinian farmers in a joint attempt to stop the Israeli destruction of Palestinian land.

Photos and video footage of today’s attacks available by calling below.

For more information contact:

Heidi Niggeman: tel. 067-365-669
Huwaidaa Shapiro: tel. 067-473-308
Osama Qashoo’: tel. 052-225-703

ISM OFFICE: tel. 02-277-4602

Massive Israeli Settler Attack on Foreign Volunteers in Palestine

Number of Internationals Injured and Hospitalized

[Yanoun, Nablus] Militant Israeli settlers attacked a group of international volunteers working with Palestinians to harvest olives in the olive groves near the Palestinian village of Yanoun.

Immediately after a Palestinian operation in the Israeli settlement of Ariel in the Israeli- occupied Palestinian Territories that killed two Israeli settlers and soldiers, a group of about a dozen armed Israeli settlers spotted the workers from their settlement (which is illegal under the Fourth Geneva Conventions), and descended upon the international volunteers, kicking, punching and beating them with stones and rifles butts. The internationals were out in front of the Palestinian workers, trying to protect them from the settlers. The injuries are as follows:

James Deleplain – US citizen, 74 years of age – repeatedly hit in the face, wound under his left eye and massive swelling, kicked in the back and both the right and left rib cage, with a possible broken rib. James had pneumonia two weeks ago and has been coughing since, therefore the beating, especially in the rib cage has left him in a very weak state.

Mary Hughes-Thompson – US and British citizen, 68 years of age – repeatedly hit in both arms. Possible broken arms. Speaking to Mary while she was on her way to the hospital, she stated “I am convinced they were trying to kill me.”

Robbie Kelly – Irish citizen, 33 years of age- beaten in the face and body with rifle butts. Swollen mouth, bruised ribs and 7 stitches in his left ear.

Omer Allon- Israeli citizen, 24 – cuts and gashes in both legs and bruises all over his body.

Also the internationals’ money and passports were stolen by the attackers, all of whom were of teenage years according to the volunteers. Palestinians in the area may have also been attacked but we don’t have concrete information yet.

Over 100 international volunteers are in the Occupied Palestinian Territories as part of the International Solidarity Movement’s (ISM and GIPP) Olive Harvest Campaign. For more information about this, please see www.palsolidarity.org. Internationals and Israelis have been providing a continual presence in the village of Yanoun, due to constant Israeli settler attacks on Palestinian villagers and their property. Last week the villagers of Yanoun left the village, not able to withstand the repeated attacks and denied protection by the Israeli police and military. They only returned a few days ago accompanied by Israelis and internationals, hoping monitor, witness and protect.

Injuries are being treated at Lijnat il-Zakaat Hospital/Clinic in Aqraba: +972-(0)9-259-8550.

For more information:
Sami Hayek: +972-(0)67-758-947
Robbie Kelly: +972-(0) 628-476
ISM office: +972-2-277-4602

Celebrating the Sabbath

By Jennifer

Today I came as close as I may ever be to attending an Islamic prayer service with about 1,500 worshiping farmers.

This morning I spent at the small village of Falimia where our small band of 4 international volunteers had been invited back to the community where we had been 2 days earlier, walking through rich, fertile farmland, past rows and rows of greenhouses, and among orchards of fruit-laden olive/orange/lemon trees. The very land that the Israeli military has begun to confiscate and plow under. That day, we had walked along the red spray-painted numbers, marked by surveyors where the construction will take place. Marks appeared on rocks as close as 3 meters from people’s homes, on the trunks of ancient olive trees and the poles and tarps of industrial-sized greenhouses. And the drinking water beneath the ground would also fall under the ever expanding Israeli Occupation.

Today, we were present to witness the villagers’ demonstration of commitment to their land and homes. For nearly 2 hours, the men and boys of the surrounding villages came here to worship, not in the mosque but in the fields among their crops. It was an incredibly powerful sight: young children and cane-supported old men, all farmers, seated on the land cultivated by their fathers and their fathers’ fathers’ and their fathers’ fathers’ fathers and on and on. The past and the future together to pray for peace and for assistance from the only resource currently available to them. I watched from the shade of a fruit tree as the men and boys one-by-one washed their hands, their faces and their feet from water of an irrigation faucet. They then carefully slipped their sandles on and walked to a place in the fallow field, spread their prayer mat, removed their shoes and sat silently, listening to the songs of worship. It was an incredibly powerful act of nonviolent resistance and of their refusal of the Israeli confiscation.

At the end of the service, several of them were interviewed by a television reporter and I had my first appearance on mass media television. Regrettably, I doubt this story will reach Israel or the United States. But for today, the villagers thanked us for being with them, for witnessing their struggle, and joining our voices with their prayers in breaking the silence.