Tuwani Diary
By Joe Carr
Friday, November 19, 2004 - Yum Juma
My ass bumped in the seat as we drove over the rough terrain. Yatta,
just north of Tuwani, is referred to by villagers as “the city” because
it is the biggest town south of Al Khalil (Hebron). Yatta is the only
place to get most amenities in all of the south Hebron hills, and it
also has the only mosque, hospital, and internet café (ok, this one is
important to me). Many of the villagers go to Yatta on Fridays to pray
and visit family; I decided to tag along.
Hafez’s brother offered to give us all a lift in his van. Like all cars
in Tuwani, this one has its quirks. To start it, you have to either
start rolling and drop the clutch or wiggle a screwdriver around some
wires under the dash. The only way to turn it off is to pop the hood and
disconnect the battery cable. The van left a billow of black smoke
behind it as we drove, and we had to stop periodically and add water to
the radiator. I thought the thing might fall apart as we drove over one
of the worst “roads” I’ve ever seen.
The
villagers have used tractors to create a new “road” around the nice
paved one the Israeli military has destroyed and blocked. A journey that
before took only twenty minutes, now takes nearly an hour and is quite
difficult for any vehicle short of a tractor. (photo: Israelis
frequently block the only road that leads to At Tuwani. This cuts off
the only access the village has to a clinic, and hinders the movement of
teachers and people trying to leave the village for work in near-by
Yatta. 10/25/04)
After shopping, praying, and family visits involving plenty of tea,
coffee, and a large lunch, we headed back to Tuwani. That night we had
an extraordinary amount of visitors, and I played guitar for them, and
Hafez helped me translate the chorus of “Oh Tuwani” into Arabic. It was
both of our first times writing poetry in Arabic.
November 20, 2004
Today was the first day of school for the children since Arafat was
declared officially dead. Israeli soldiers called Saber on Wednesday to
ask when they should begin escorting the children, and he told them
Saturday. Though they said they’d be there, we had doubts about their
reliability. None the less, we stationed ourselves on the mountain to
watch at 7am. When we hadn’t seen them by 7:30, we figured there was a
problem. I called Omar, one of the Tuba fathers, and he said no soldiers
had come, so the children went the long way on foot. We went up the
mountain to try and meet them, but missed them somehow and they made it
to school safely.
After
a nap, some cleaning, and a few cups of tea, we headed back to watch the
children go home a little before one. The police and military showed up
this time, with some story about the settlers keeping them from coming
that morning. They set off and made it out of our vision safely. On our
way back home, we stopped by our friend Juma’s. We saw some adorable
little lambs, and Juma said they’d been born just an hour before. We
observed the evidence that proved his claim, blood on the ground and
some birds eating at the placenta still hanging from the mother. One
little newborn escaped from the pen and was wondering off. I went and
called to it, and it immediately ran over to me like the stray cat from
the police station. I picked him up and petted him, and felt a little
like Jesus. I named him Yousef, even though Juma said he was actually a
she. Adriano, an Italian from Operation Dove, said he liked the lamb
also, roasted with carrots and potatoes. I glared at him. (photo:
Joe Carr holds Al-Tuwani lamb less than one hour old. 11/20/04)
In addition to new baby lambs, we learned that Juma’s wife had had a
baby boy the night before. At midnight she went into labor, so he and
his mother hopped into a tractor and rumbled to Yatta. They had to go by
tractor because of the before mentioned roadblock, but amazingly they
made it in a half hour, and we joked that the ride may have contributed
to her speedy delivery.
After tea, coffee, and sweets we headed back to our house. Immediately
upon arriving, Nasser (a close Tuwani friend of ours) arrived with three
men from the nearby town of Karmil who had a story to report about
settler violence. Six months ago, Faher Mohammed Abu Aram drove upon six
masked and armed Israeli settlers quarreling with some Tuwani men. He
got out and fled from his car, as the settlers riddled it with bullets,
and shot out all four tires. While Israeli soldiers watched on, the
settlers stole everything of value from the car, including tools, the
keys, and the registration papers. The Israeli police arrived more than
two hours after Faher called them, and managed to catch two of the
settlers as they ran away, no thanks to the settler security which tried
to help the settlers escape. The police promised they’d make the
settlers fix the car, but like many promises made to natives by
imperialists, it has gone un-kept. He eventually sold what was left of
the fifteen hundred dollar car for hundred dollars worth of parts. I
asked what we could do, and he said what many Palestinians have said to
me, “Tell my story”, so here you are.
November 21, 2004
This morning we watched the children as usual, the soldiers and police
actually showed and escorted them, but it didn’t stop a few Israeli
settlers from harassing and intimidating the children. The children said
two old men settlers who’ve tried to attack them in the past stood in
the woods glaring at them and yelling things. They were obviously very
frightened. They said the soldiers and police have been nice to them
though. Maurine, an older CPT reservist and my adopted aunti, commented
that she hopes something good may come from this madness. She hopes the
niceness of the soldiers and police will help the children see that not
all Israelis are mean, and the soldiers and police see who the victims
really are in this situation. “How can you look at these children and want
to harm them?” she asked. I wonder this constantly.
We saw the children home safely that afternoon and then had worship on
the mountain side; I led a meditation and song. Later in the day, we
attended a meeting organized by Ta’ayush, our fellow peacemakers from
Israel. They brought down an Israeli lawyer to help villagers mount
legal cases against settler violence and harassment. They hope to
document a great many cases of violence like the one I heard about
yesterday, and pressure the Israeli police and courts to do something.
We were also asked to accompany a shepherd from Al Mufakra, a village
right next to Tuwani. He said that he has been banned from an area he
had used to graze his sheep, and feared the settlers might attack him if
he went there. He said he wants to challenge the banning, but would like
us to come with him to document and intervene. We agreed, and we should
start in a few weeks. We learned that other shepherds from Tuwani may
need accompaniment in the coming weeks as well, so we look forward to
new work, and maybe I’ll get to watch Yousef grow up.
November 22, 2004
Cold, wet, and determined, those five awesome kids trudged onto school.
Running as fast as the jeeps could drive, the kids tore through the
pouring rain and sharp wind. With our Goretex jackets, hiking boots,
caps and mittens we watched and shivered under olive trees, thoroughly
miserable. “If the kids can do it, I can do it” I thought, and my
respect for these children grew immensely. I wished that I’d brought
warmer and more waterproof clothing, but what I had was worlds better
than what the kids had, and they didn’t have the cover of olive trees.
We met them at the school, and they smiled and shook our hands like they
were as comfortable as can be. Boy do I have a lot to learn.
In the afternoon, wearing every bit of dry clothing we had, we watched
them go home with the military escort (no police this time), and were
once again, thoroughly soaked. Today was the scheduled change over; two
more activists came and Maurine (I call her Aunti Mo) and I left for Al
Khalil (Hebron). Since the roadblock now prevents taxis from driving all
the way into Tuwani, we have to walk ¾ of a mile to the roadblock and
meet a car there. Normally this isn’t such a big deal, but today it was
horrid. Three taxis later and more walking around roadblocks, we made it
to the CPT apartment in the old city. Since the infrastructure is so
de-developed here, flooding is a huge problem. We had to wade shin-deep
through streets and around roadblocks, and I cannot remember when I was
so wet and muddy. I may has well have jumped into a lake with my clothes
on I was so soaked, and had the trip taken much longer, hypothermia
would have been a concern.
Ok, so I exaggerate a little, but trust me, it sucked. I write this from
the warmth and dryness of our Al Khalil apartment, glad to be in doors
but already missing Tuwani. My heart is there, and it aches when I am
away. I daydream about getting dropped off at that roadblock again, and
walking into Tuwani as the kids holler “Yousef, Yousef”, and I know I am
home.
Joe "Yousef" Carr
Al Khalil, Palestine
Christian Peacemaker Teams
011-972-54-685-1014
joecarr@riseup.net
www.cpt.org
