Tuwani
Diaries
By Joe Carr
December 13,
2004
Back in Tuwani,
alhamdulallah (thank God). We finished our worship and meeting and then
saw the children home safely from school. That evening, Saber, Hafez and
several other prominent villagers came to visit us. I had requested a
meeting to discuss how long to continue our presence here, but I didn’t
realize that they’d all show up that evening. Saber began by graciously
thanking us and telling us how important we have been for their
community. “Settlers have been attacking and harassing us for so long,
and no one ever noticed. Now we are having meetings with journalists,
the Civil (Military) Administration, and even the Knesset.” And today,
he told us, they even received a written permit for the clinic, the
first actual permit Israel has ever issued to a Palestinian in this
area. Saber insisted all this was because of the attention our presence
has brought them.
We agreed to
commit for at least two more months and revaluate it at the end of
February. He assured us that there’d be plenty of work to do; villagers
will be plowing, planting trees, and herding sheep near the settlement
and need accompaniment. The problem with the children will continue, and
may increase as other children currently going to a distant Bedouin
school are considering taking the military escort to the better school
in Tuwani. I am excited about the prospect of around 15 children
depending on this military escort; further highlighting the
ridiculousness of this situation.
His final bit of
good news was about a meeting on Thursday. The same Knesset members that
mandated the military escort the children on the shortest path are
meeting again to evaluate the progress (or lack thereof). They’ve
requested a report about every problem the children have had since the
military began its escort. Fortunately, we keep this information in
detail in our log, so we set to work gathering it together. It’s sad
when seen all together, there has been settler violence or intimidation
almost weekly, and the soldiers and police do nothing. So not only is
this not a permanent solution to this problem, it is not even a
temporary one. The Knesset may rule that the military escort is
insufficient, but that may not change anything. Havat Ma’on outpost, the
main source of this problem, would be dismantled right now if the
Knesset rulings were carried out. So we shall see.
December 14,
2004
Today we helped
continue work on the now-permitted clinic. My favorite thing about
working with Palestinian laborers is the tea. Every 30-45 minutes a
villager will bring a pot of tea and cups around and we all brake for a
hot beverage and a cigarette. We left after awhile to go watch the
children.
Today, we walked
to Tuba.
I’d forgotten
how long and difficult is the long way to Tuba. We finally arrived after
an hour and a half of climbing over desert mountains avoiding the
settlement. Exhausted, we sat on a hill to watch the children come home
on the side of the mountain we usually miss. They made it ok, but we
observed one young male settler come out of the trees after the children
had passed. The soldiers interacted with him but didn’t seem hostile.
When we asked the children, they were nonchalant about that settler
being there, like it was a normal occurrence to have this intimidating
and threatening presence on their way home from school. We also observed
two other random figures; foreigners the children told us. Turned out
they were AP journalists, and they called me for an interview that
evening.
After several
cups of tea in the caves Tuba villagers call home, we set off on the
journey back to Tuwani. Though it is long and tiring, it is also
incredibly beautiful. The vast rolling hills reflect the sun and create
a fabulous network of shadows. You can almost always see groups of
gazelles running through the wilderness, as well as the occasional
shepard with sheep and goats. I thought about how many people spend
their holidays hiking through gorgeous scenery like this, and I was
happy.
December 15,
2004
Today was busy,
we did a little bit of just about everything we do here.
We arose early
to go watch the kids, and I waited for two women who’d arranged to visit
us. A Jewish American mother and daughter (mom a human rights lawyer for
UNAIS and daughter an international studies graduate student in London)
were both interested in checking out our work. They showed up a little
late but in plenty of time to walk out and see the kids come to school.
I always like showing this scene to new people; it’s easy to forget how
absurd is this ridiculous escort.
Shortly after
coming back to Tuwani, our friend Nasser insisted we come to his
house. Over tea, he told us about some sheparding he needed to do near
the settlement and asked if we’d accompany him. One never knows when
Israeli settlers may attack or harass Palestinians in their view. After
hanging out with the sheep for a few hours, we headed back out to watch
the children go home. On our way, we got pulled into the clinic for more
tea. The clinic’s construction is coming along nicely; in addition to
the foundation, pillars, and roof, all four outer walls are almost
complete and the windows go in tomorrow. What was a hole in the ground
when we got here is now almost a full building. And permitted!
Our visitors
departed back to Jerusalem after the children were home from school
safely, and we headed back to our house to rest as it just started to
rain. A group of children met us there with important information.
“Hafez is working near the settlement and wants you to come” is what I
deduced from their Arabic. Despite the rain, Ugo and I headed out to go
observe. We took our umbrellas, which the children thought were the most
exciting things in the world. They begged to hold them and giggled with
glee when I danced around or through the umbrellas up in the air. The
umbrellas felt rather silly considering the Palestinians, including
Hafez’s 75-year-old mother, were out plowing and planting as if there
was no rain. There were no problems from the settlers, alhamdulallah
(thanks be to God), and we crashed back at our house to get warm and
dry.
December 16,
2004
My last day in
Tuwani. I sure will miss this place, it has become such a home to me. I
had to make my rounds and get in all my last Tuwani experiences. Hafez,
my adopted brother, insisted on teaching me how to pray like a Muslim,
as this was something in which I’d expressed interest. So around the
time for evening prayers, Hafez laid out a rug and instructed me in the
process. An essential element of Muslim prayer is “La allah illa allah”
(there is only one God), and it is on this premise that I feel right in
worshiping with Muslims. Muslim prayer is quite elaborate, and having
been raised Catholic, I am a nut for ritual. The movement is similar to
Yoga, and the symbolism in the physical acts is quite beautiful. “You
must only look straight ahead” Havez told me, “Because when you are
praying, you are between the hands of God.” As we bowed and kneeled
together, I saw what he meant. I truly felt the presence of God, and it
brought me closer to Hafez and these people than I ever have been
before. Allahoawkbar! (God is great)
Walking out to
catch the taxi for the last time was surreal. I looked over my shoulder
and saw the gorgeous stone houses, and the dark shadow of the
settlement. The children waved, the donkey’s brayed, and the sun set. I
pray that my home will still be here when I return.
December 17,
2004
Back in Al
Khalil (Hebron). I managed to leave my cell phone in the taxi. I’ve been
so good about holding onto it, but I was destined to lose it. I realized
it about ten minutes after we were dropped off, and the taxi could have
been anywhere. We frantically started calling the phone and eventually
someone answered. With our limited Arabic we figured out where they
were. Amazingly, the driver was waiting for us with the phone and
returned it graciously. “Never worry” he said, and I knew I was truly
blessed.
Today I visited
the family of Abdul Wahab Adrise.
The Adrise
family is part of CPT’s Campaign for Secure Dwellings; they are paired
with a church in Manhattan, Kansas where I will soon be speaking. The
Israeli military destroyed the Adrise family home in 1996 because Kiriet
Arba Settlement wanted to expand onto their land (and has). The family
was fortunate enough to have found an apartment owned by their extended
family, but many of their prospects for the future are lost. CPTers who
knew them before tell me the girls all wanted to be doctors and
dentists, but now their chances for university are over. The second
youngest girl, Du’a (18) is already married, and the oldest girl, Inez
(20) is engaged. The two oldest boys, Fu’ad (23) and Murad (22), can’t
get married because they cannot get a house. CPTer Dianne Roe commented
that a home demolition does not just harm the current
family-made-homeless, but future generations to come. The cycle of
poverty is already strong as poor children do not inherit capital and
opportunities, but here Israel is pulling out the very rug poor families
stand on. It is the demolition of every last hope, dream, and future for
many generations of Palestinians.
On the way back
to our apartment, we decided to take a path less traveled. There are
only six entrances into the Old City, all of which have Israeli
checkpoints, and this one is especially strict. The checkpoint exists to
protect one of the Israeli settlements which displaced and continues to
displace native Palestinian inhabitants of the Old City. As
internationals, we usually pass this checkpoint without problems, but
recently two CPTers were turned back. We try to challenge anything we’re
told we can’t do, so we’ve been trying to go that way more often. As we
passed by the checkpoint, we gave a Shabat Shalom to the soldiers. It
wasn’t until we were under the arch and almost out of view that they
hollered for us to stop. “You can’t go there” a soldier said. “We live
here”, we said, “we have to”. They gave us a look like it didn’t matter
what we said, we weren’t going to be allowed. And we looked back like it
didn’t matter what they said, we live here and we’re going to go. “Who
are you?” he asked. We explained that we’re CPT and we live in the Old
City, and we have to go this way in order to go home. “So you are
allowed to go there” he asked. “Of course” we said. He gave us a
confused nod, and we were on our way. I was happy to inform the soldier
of his orders; we so rarely get the chance.
December 18,
2004
My last day on
the Hebron Team.
I have to leave
tomorrow and go meet with lawyers in Tel Aviv. I testify on Monday, then
I must leave for Jordan on Wednesday, my flight leaves out of Amman on
Thursday. A CPTer will accompany me to Tel Aviv and then to court and
support me as I revisit this traumatic event. I am certainly nervous,
but I feel better having read the soldier’s testimony. He’s confessed,
but wants to highlight the fact that he was merely obeying orders, and
that soldiers regularly shoot at unarmed people in
Rafah. I am
happy to testify to this fact, and demand that the soldier be held
responsible for his actions but also that the court (and whoever else
may be listening) hears that this is a problem with the policy and
culture of the Israeli military.
I ask for your
thoughts and prayers as I fulfill this responsibility that was given to
me for a reason. I try not to “worry about what to say”, for I trust
that I “will be given the right words at the right time. For it won’t be
[me] doing the talking–It will be the spirit speaking through [me]”
(Mathew 11: 19-20). I will certainly keep you updated on what happens.
Since I won’t
return to team before leaving, after our worship and meeting this
morning the team did CPT’s customary sending ritual for me. Basically,
the sendee stands in the middle and everyone else stands around them and
places a hand on their shoulder or back. Each person goes around and
says what they appreciated and will miss from the person, and blesses
them on their journey. Afterwards, we all sing “Guide My Feet” as the
sendee embraces each person. It is a beautiful process that brought
tears to my eyes. I feel more loved, welcomed, and supported in this
community than I have in any group I’ve ever worked with. I am so truly
blessed. Alhamdulallah (praise be to God).
Joe "Yousef"
Carr
Christian Peacemaker Teams - Palestine
972-54-685-1014
joecarr@riseup.net
www.cpt.org
