Loo paper and a towel come in handy as well, while for toilet privacy you might find it preferable to go al fresco!! Water for showers is in limited supply (the settlers have swimming pools...). These are just a few practical tips. The whole walking experience is unforgettable and the people are dignified, helpful, friendly, generous and honest. Do visit them, you'll receive a welcome of a lifetime!
Sunday 13 March 2011
things to take on your walk
You won't need a flak jacket as you're perfectly safe as a privileged Westerner. But you'd be wise to take effective ear plugs just in case anyone in your party snores (men and women sleep separately in family homes). Walking long distances on little sleep can be a bit rough as we know to our cost.
life under occupation
The circumstances and rules change from day to day. You'll see concrete blocks and other barriers by the roadside at intersections with roads leading to Palestinian villages. These barriers can be put in place within a matter of hours so that a few soldiers can effectively seal off access for as long as they wish. Imagine what that's like, in your own country, to be denied freedom of movement to go to work, to take your produce to market, to go to school or to go to hospital. And it happens all the time. Then there are the checkpoints where your papers are scrutinised and if you're lucky, you go through relatively quickly. The brewery at Taybeh for instance told us they used to get their bottles from Portugal but they had such hassles from the Israelis that they now have to buy from them. Hops and grain for making the beer are also imported and secure delivery for meeting orders cannot be guaranteed. This does not make for a healthy economy.
The whole situation is in fact very edgy and paranoid. A young foreign journalist told us an instructive story. He'd bought a sim card shortly after arriving in Palestine, paying cash and not registering name or details. Nor did he give the new number out to anyone. A few days later he gets a call from someone high up in military security questioning him as to what he was doing there. So how did they get the number? You figure it out.
I've already described life in East Jerusalem. You might have heard on the news that a settler family has been murdered. This was near where we stayed the first night and we've now learned that about 20 of the men of this village have been rounded up (reports of people being maltreated) and the whole area closed off. Reminds one of German and Vichy reprisals in WWII. That occupation lasted only four years, this has gone on for forty four! Armed settlers can attack or bully Palestinians at will, with soldiers there to protect them.
We saw many memorials on walls and public places and in private homes to martyrs and we're not talking of suicide bombers but people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. On our path in even some rugged and isolated areas we found spent military cartridges and a tear gas grenade.
Abraham Path
Staying at the friendly El Beit Guesthouse, run by the Arab Women's Union and the wonderful Milada, were the board members of the Abraham Path. William Ury, the founder of this initiative, is a top American negotiator and if you've got 15 minutes or so to read this link you'll see not only that he's a remarkable and clear-sighted individual but also what the Abraham Path is all about. The board (about 12/15 people) were walking extensive parts of the path checking its viability for tourists in future. The entire project is designed to assist and enable the Palestinians, including some in the poorest rural areas, to develop a tourist economy. The board were also documenting their trip so that the website in future is really informative and helpful. Their website is http://www.abrahampath.org/about.php and you can follow their current trip right now. And this is the link to William Ury's talk.
friends at Beit Safafa
We had a couple of free days at the end of our walk. Spent one walking around Bethlehem and arranged to visit our friend Hashim's family in Beit Safafa the next. BS is a Palestinian village in East Jerusalem, but inside the wall so checkpoints have to be negotiated. They came to fetch us but there were a few heart-stopping moments when the soldiers realised we had no visa stamps. Our passports were handed back but R's identification papers not. A few minutes later they let us through.
What a welcome! All the family were there to greet us - three generations - and more arrived during the afternoon. We were treated to a wonderful feast and their warmth was indescribable. Some of the younger members had never met their uncle, including one in her 20s, as he's not able to visit them nor return home at all. H's sisters saw him 4 years ago when they all met in Jordan. Such are the trials Palestinian exiles are forced to endure.
The family house and garden is now bordered on one side by a settler-only road and on another by Gilo settlement, a veritable blot on the landscape. Palestinians such as these are under constant pressure to sell up. We toured the old village and saw houses blocked up and derelict (Israel will not allow Palestinians to build or rebuild). We were also shown other houses taken over by settlers. It was a moving and extraordinary day, one we shall never forget.
from Kufr Malek to Taybeh
Kufr Malek's 1,116m above sea level and it was bloody cold when we got there!! The wind was howling, it rained all night so next morning our guides had to make the decision to cancel this last stretch of the walk which would have been 5.5km. Mud and slippery stones could have made it dangerous. Reluctantly we piled into a mini bus to Taybeh. It's the only completely Christian village in Palestine, boasts an excellent family-run brewery and is supposedly the place where Jesus sought refuge before going to Jerusalem to be crucified. The beer was superb!
Then the visit to St George's church with a talk by an amazingly informative and energetic priest, Father Raed who's involved in all sorts of peace initiatives and practical and economic ventures. He'd a great sense of humour and once we'd got past the religious stuff was fascinating on the politics. Taybeh has an amazing ruined Byzantine/Crusader church which again John's photos will show you. Animal sacrifice used to be the norm (and still is on occasion except now the offerings are given to the poor, not to the gods). You'll see the chain and hook at the entrance and wooden chopping block. This visit stood us in good stead at Tel Aviv airport when we had the usual "where have you been" and "why". You can't say "seeing Palestine and how its people live under occupation" so we were able to convince our young examiners that we were followers of the gospels with all that we'd learned that day.
Duma to Kufr Malek
Our second long stretch was the toughest for us - 14 km over some really rugged terrain. Again, John's photos will give you a much better idea than I can. We stopped en route at a small village to collect provisions for a picnic. The women were making bread for us outside so Rani and I were able to talk to them. I've got photos of the process which I'll post later when I've figured out how to do it, but the oven looks like a an oil drum cut in half and upended. A fire is lit inside it and the base which is covered with stones serves as griddle. Needless to say, this bread was simply delicious. Two of the women were in their late teens and had either one child or expecting one and the twenty three year old was expecting her third. The women often asked me if I had children and were perplexed/saddened when I said no. How do you explain Western choices??
Our picnic as you'll see, was high up in the Wadi Samia, overlooking a Bedouin camp. Then the final and quite daunting stretch to Kufr Malek skirting a ravine and finding your way amongst such huge rocks and boulders. We saw the village on the mountain top far in the distance and gasped. But it's amazing just how you can get there and what a feeling of achievement when you do. At one stage I had to hold on to the guide and not look down!
walking from Awarta to Duma
This stretch was 18 km and some of the most stunning scenery. We walked up the mountainside and saw Canaanite wells (or rather man-made reservoirs) which the Romans also used when they came to this land. You can see all the way across to the River Jordan (and glimpse the Israeli settlements strung out on the hilltops). John, one of our group of 6 has taken fabulous pictures (much better than mine) and you'll find them on this link. There were wildflowers in profusion - red anemones, pale lilac cyclamen, tiny blue irises and many many more I couldn't even hazard a guess at identifying. Also all among the stones, clumps of common thistle (natsh which Raja Shehadeh in his wonderful Orwell Prize-winning book Palestinian Walks says was probably used for the crown of thorns). There were also tortoises and millipedes along the way. http://tinyurl.com/Masar20110306
Thursday 10 March 2011
our first hosts
Awarta was our first destination on the trail and our first overnight stop. High on a hilltop overlooking a beautiful valley with Nablus spread out down below (and settlers and settlements and settlement roads spread out on the surrounding hilltops). Our host family was gorgeous - children, siblings, parents - all delighted to see us, full of warmth and welcome. Our sleeping quarters were on a roof top. Bit of a shock initially as we'd only met as a group that morning and found we were all sleeping in the one room (which was OK) with see-through curtain to bathroom. We had a marvellous evening, eating together on the roof under the stars with our male hosts (the women don't join mixed groups of strangers at meals). Children chortling and cavorting like puppies. Very good conversation with our unusual hosts. The eldest son joined us and his father said he needed to work hard to go to university. I asked him what he wanted to do and he said medicine, in Germany. This will of course need substantial funding from elsewhere.
But we insisted on meeting the host's brother's wife (sorry but everyone lives together as extended family) who'd prepared our delicious food. She was initially shy but then after some prompting from her husband showed us her marvellous embroidery. I asked if I could buy a piece as a wedding present for friends in Ireland. She insisted I take it as a gift, I insisted I pay and in the end got my way. She was very thrilled and when we left kissed me.
The villagers get regular hassle from settlers - the latter claiming that a site within the village is a Jewish tomb. Our hosts say it isn't but they break in at night a couple of times a week. There's a military base at the bottom of the hill but never any come-back on the settlers. I forgot to say earlier that Palestinians have to make complaints to the military who then pass them on to the police who deal with the settlers (by which time they're long gone..)
But we insisted on meeting the host's brother's wife (sorry but everyone lives together as extended family) who'd prepared our delicious food. She was initially shy but then after some prompting from her husband showed us her marvellous embroidery. I asked if I could buy a piece as a wedding present for friends in Ireland. She insisted I take it as a gift, I insisted I pay and in the end got my way. She was very thrilled and when we left kissed me.
The villagers get regular hassle from settlers - the latter claiming that a site within the village is a Jewish tomb. Our hosts say it isn't but they break in at night a couple of times a week. There's a military base at the bottom of the hill but never any come-back on the settlers. I forgot to say earlier that Palestinians have to make complaints to the military who then pass them on to the police who deal with the settlers (by which time they're long gone..)
Wednesday 9 March 2011
Jacob's Well and Balata Refugee Camp
Jacob's Well (sorry as we're not up on our Bible can't remember what was supposed to have happened here) but it's situated within the most enormous and opulent Greek Orthodox Church. Somebody must have spent a fortune on it. Anyway we were told the depth of the well (but can't remember that either) except to say the guide poured some water down and we had to wait for what seemed like an age for it to reach the bottom. We pulled some up in a bucket and each drank cold clear water from the holy well. Then all trooped off to the well-appointed loos.
Almost immediately opposite is Balata Refugee Camp, an area of 1 sq km, established around 1950 for 5,000 people. Initially there were tents but after a few years the UN built small dwellings. I've got a photo of the original ones (which form the base of present dwellings): each one measured 3 x 3m, irrespective of family size. The camp's now home to 25,000 with no increase in ground area. Roads have been sacrificed for building space and homes are packed so tightly together that there is absolutely no privacy and our guide said people don't refer to those next door as neighbours, but as family. My photos which I'll post later will show you but anyone reading this who lives in Exeter and knows Parliament Street (narrowest street in UK) will know what I mean. And of course having to build upwards shuts out any light.
Our guide told us his family's story which typifies the general plight - his grandfather was a relatively wealthy man in Haifa with restaurants and a hotel. After the nakba he fled with his heavily pregnant wife, leaving all behind. They walked to this area and found refuge in a cave where his mother was born in August 1948. They lived in this cave for a year. He said his mother had had a very hard time, with little or no medical attention in her life and now looks 90 (she's 3 years younger than me..) The camp has 1 doctor, 1 dentist and a couple of nurses for the whole population so can do little more than general check ups. If surgery or more complicated treatment's needed they have to go to hospital in Nablus or beyond and pay two thirds of the cost (UN paying the rest).
He said life during the 2nd intifada was grim (2001-4) - locked gates, no exit for education or work, curfews inside the camp, people unable to leave their houses and others shot for simply looking out of a window. All economic structure within the camp and Nablus were destroyed. We can have absolutely no idea of what this does to the mental state of the inhabitants, especially the young.
Almost immediately opposite is Balata Refugee Camp, an area of 1 sq km, established around 1950 for 5,000 people. Initially there were tents but after a few years the UN built small dwellings. I've got a photo of the original ones (which form the base of present dwellings): each one measured 3 x 3m, irrespective of family size. The camp's now home to 25,000 with no increase in ground area. Roads have been sacrificed for building space and homes are packed so tightly together that there is absolutely no privacy and our guide said people don't refer to those next door as neighbours, but as family. My photos which I'll post later will show you but anyone reading this who lives in Exeter and knows Parliament Street (narrowest street in UK) will know what I mean. And of course having to build upwards shuts out any light.
Our guide told us his family's story which typifies the general plight - his grandfather was a relatively wealthy man in Haifa with restaurants and a hotel. After the nakba he fled with his heavily pregnant wife, leaving all behind. They walked to this area and found refuge in a cave where his mother was born in August 1948. They lived in this cave for a year. He said his mother had had a very hard time, with little or no medical attention in her life and now looks 90 (she's 3 years younger than me..) The camp has 1 doctor, 1 dentist and a couple of nurses for the whole population so can do little more than general check ups. If surgery or more complicated treatment's needed they have to go to hospital in Nablus or beyond and pay two thirds of the cost (UN paying the rest).
He said life during the 2nd intifada was grim (2001-4) - locked gates, no exit for education or work, curfews inside the camp, people unable to leave their houses and others shot for simply looking out of a window. All economic structure within the camp and Nablus were destroyed. We can have absolutely no idea of what this does to the mental state of the inhabitants, especially the young.
Nablus
Our delightful and informative guide Mohammad drove us from Jerusalem to Nablus using the old roads so we could see the ancient caravan routes. We stopped at a vantage point to admire the view and an old woman in wonderfully colourful dress appeared. Her land was just down the slope but she had constant harassment from settlers and frequently had to appeal to the Israeli military for help. M explained that because of historical circumstances there exist 5 forms of law re land and property - Ottoman, Jordanian, Palestinian, British and Israeli. The Israelis choose which suits. There's an Ottoman law which says if you haven't worked your land for 7 years it becomes the property of the state. So this is what the settlers are trying to bring about.
On to Nablus and a tour of the old city - Shechem - its Old Testament name. Evidence of 800 year old houses bulldozed during the second intifada so that tanks could get through! Visited an old soap factory, another making sweets, a fantastic spice store and then on to the hamam. Much sweet tea and welcomes everywhere. At the entrance to the sweet store I bumped into Alessandra, an Italian Londoner whom I'd met two years ago. Mohammad then took us to see the preparation of kenafeh and sample this local speciality. It's a sort of pancake, the base of which is made with flour I think but it's yellow and looks more like grain, then on top they put goats cheese. When one side's done (and the whole thing is huge) they flip it over and pour syrup over. We watched a stream of people coming to buy slices. The turnover is non stop during the day. It's absolutely delicious.
On to Nablus and a tour of the old city - Shechem - its Old Testament name. Evidence of 800 year old houses bulldozed during the second intifada so that tanks could get through! Visited an old soap factory, another making sweets, a fantastic spice store and then on to the hamam. Much sweet tea and welcomes everywhere. At the entrance to the sweet store I bumped into Alessandra, an Italian Londoner whom I'd met two years ago. Mohammad then took us to see the preparation of kenafeh and sample this local speciality. It's a sort of pancake, the base of which is made with flour I think but it's yellow and looks more like grain, then on top they put goats cheese. When one side's done (and the whole thing is huge) they flip it over and pour syrup over. We watched a stream of people coming to buy slices. The turnover is non stop during the day. It's absolutely delicious.
Friday tides
Approaching the Western Wall/Al Aksa Mosque/Dome of the Rock we battled the tide but were turned back by Israeli soldiers. No tourists, Muslims only, on Fridays. So we walked up and down the Via Dolorosa and lit a candle for K in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Waves of Xtian 'pilgrims' kissing the floorstones. (Mon Pere who we bumped into later on his way to the C of the H S jovially referred to the holy shebang as a 'souk'). Early evening retreat to the same cafe at the Damascus Gate, watched the tide of Orthodox Jews going to the Wailing Wall. An amazing assortment of hairstyles, garb and head gear. (Did Bob Dylan get his 'leopard skin pillbox hat' image from here?) Then later the tide returned with two devotees in full black outfits, toting their sub machine guns slung over their shoulders!!! They were accompanied, on the double, by a couple of uniformed IDF. I've got a blurry photo as they were moving fast.
Watched in dismay as the Israeli soldiers at Damascus Gate hustled an elderly Arab woman selling herbs out of the way as the Jews were hurrying to prayers. One week later, but Friday mid-day, she was allowed to stay in her spot as the Muslims were hurrying to their prayers.
happy clappy Xtians!
Our little hotel was full of them! Dutch, with much praying on the terrace at breakfast, lots of laying on of hands and 'amens'. Later, in the lounge where we thought we'd escaped for a bit of peace, we were regaled with a long explication of Christianity by a self-confessed Dutch missionary talking up the gospels to a young Japanese guy. There were some wonderful bits of misunderstanding through 'lost in translation' moments. It was a bit like Life of Brian. We were assured that salvation only came through Jesus and if you found him you found the route to God and therefore Heaven. Heaven help us indeed! We had to beat a hasty retreat.
some good conversations
At least half the passengers on our flight to Tel Aviv were Orthodox Jews - a lot of praying went on both at the departure gate, and on board. So we were wary initally of talking to our neighbour. But as he was reading Wilkie Collins' The Moonstone and in 'mufti' we asked him if our request for Israeli visas to be stamped on separate paper (rather than inside our passports) should be in Hebrew. He replied "they're not very enlightened but they do speak English". So we knew we could speak freely from then on! He said he was apprehensive about returning, as a gay guy who'd lived abroad for some time. His parents' home was near Gaza. He'd done film studies so we spent the rest of the journey talking cinema and favourite directors. If he ever reads this it was sheer delight and by the way, don't forget Robert Bresson!
We found our little Palestinian hotel, dumped our stuff and headed for the Damascus Gate for a drink. A Palestinian cafe, great vantage point good atmosphere and delicious (but expensive) Taybeh beer. Got talking to a French Catholic priest who confessed to a taste for arak. He was a Provencal, with a jolly disposition and a liking for his native cuisine. Alas he'd been to England as a teenager (Royston of all places) to improve his English. He said food and weather was 'orrible! He didn't mind talking to atheists and didn't give us any religious guff. He was going to spend the following night in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and asked us if we knew who unlocked and locked the church each day? Any guesses? Muslims! That's because the Christians can't agree amongst themselves who has the right/privilege in the pecking order.
We found our little Palestinian hotel, dumped our stuff and headed for the Damascus Gate for a drink. A Palestinian cafe, great vantage point good atmosphere and delicious (but expensive) Taybeh beer. Got talking to a French Catholic priest who confessed to a taste for arak. He was a Provencal, with a jolly disposition and a liking for his native cuisine. Alas he'd been to England as a teenager (Royston of all places) to improve his English. He said food and weather was 'orrible! He didn't mind talking to atheists and didn't give us any religious guff. He was going to spend the following night in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and asked us if we knew who unlocked and locked the church each day? Any guesses? Muslims! That's because the Christians can't agree amongst themselves who has the right/privilege in the pecking order.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
