Lives of the Peace Activists in Occupied Palestine

Reflection from Gabe--Occupied Palestine

Hello,

Last night I sat there in a daze. Another meeting about who takes what role if and when the armies come. Who will negotiate? Who is willing to stay in the home after we have been ordered out?

Another threatened home? The son blew himself and others up on march 31 in Tel Aviv. Now the army is after 17 year old Ibrahim, his brother. The night before last the army came at 2 AM, shooting wildly, took the family outside at gunpoint, kids frightened. They demanded to know if there were other men in the home, they didn't believe the family and proceeded to search the house. Ibrahim was not home. Today they called five times threatening the family if he does not turn himself in.

Ibrahim must make a decision. Will they just question and release him? Will they torture him? Will they detain him indefinitely? Is it better to stay in hiding or will that put his family in greater danger?

I woke at 4:10 AM to heavy gunfire. It sounded close but they never came.

This is life in Palestine. I wish I could bring these people home to tell the stories themselves. No 17-year-old should have to make a decision like this. Every day people look into my eyes and ask me if I have seen what Israel does to them. I say, "yes, I see." I saw the mother with her
newborn baby stand in the sun for an hour before being turned away at a checkpoint. I saw the long, bumpy, dirt road that we had to take through the olive groves to get from one major city to the next. I saw that soldier make a quick motion like he was going to shoot that boy. I saw the old man on the donkey pass through ten minutes ago only to be stopped now.

The soldiers. . .I am quickly losing my patience with these young men who say things like, 'this is my jurisdiction,' or who motion for me to enter
into the dark room of a semi-demolished home. I ignore them. They ask, "what's wrong. are you afraid?"

I saw the tanks roll through Jenin refugee camp for nearly two hours shooting in every direction, damaging homes and roads. I saw the APC drive away with those men's ID's. Why do they do this? "Because we're animals," a man told me. Animals. Terrorists.

Terrorists in robes, terrorists transporting their terrorist cactus fruit and figs by terrorist donkey because the army tore up all their terrorist roads. Crying terrorist babies burning in the sun. Terrorist mothers who use these babies as an excuse to be let through the checkpoint. Terrorist grocery bags and terrorist family reunions. Terrorist groom being allowed to enter the city on the way to his terrorist wedding without his terrorist family.

Your jurisdiction! How long have you been here? Were you ever invited into this city? Every home you demolish turns into a thousand stones that the kids will risk their lives to throw at you because for these kids, these children who grew up being humiliated, threatened, harassed, shot at, for these kids whose childhoods have been stolen, these kids who sit all around me right now working diligently on their computer homework in this internet cafe/classroom, for these kids. . .freedom is more important than life.

Their blood is made thick by the sound of your m-16's, your f-16's, your 80mm tank shells, the sounds of neighbor’s houses crumbling to the ground, the sounds of ambulances at 2 and 3 AM, the sound of their roads being ruined, the sounds of soldiers shitting and pissing in the top floor of their occupied homes, of soldiers saying things like, "this is my jurisdiction."

I have seen what they do. But I have also seen the laughter, the community, and the strength of the Palestinian people. I have seen the resistance within the cities, those that chose to fight back against their oppressor. A tagged city wall reads, "RESISTANCE IS NOT TERRORISM." I have seen children climb up onto moving APC's to try to remove the machine gun from its stand. I have seen fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters; friends smile and laugh only days after they lose a loved one. I have seen the children's beautiful kites flying by the hundreds in the evening sky.

How long have I been typing? I feel better now. Something has been released. Thanks for listening. I miss you all. Two more weeks in Palestine--sometimes I feel like I can't go on for another minute, can't talk to one more soldier, can't hear one more sad story. Other times I feel like staying forever.

Life and liberation,
Gabe