Marhaba dear family and friends

I am sorry that it has taken me so long to write. I have been in Budrus and I
did not want to use the internet in house I was staying at because it is so
expensive. I have had few opportunities to get to a computer with internet.

I have been staying at Abu Ahmed’s house in Budrus, which has been absolutely
lovely.  I am learning (slowly) how to make Palestinian cuisine and Arabic
coffee and tea, the key to all of it is lots of oil, sugar and salt. Everything
you are told not to eat in the states is thrown at you here, and how can you say
no? Abu Ahmed’s daughter Iltezam has been teaching ,e Arabic, as have many other
girls in the village.

I only have two weeks left here before I come home for the holidays. Tomorrow I
will go to Nablus and visit Balata Refugee Camp. Hopefully I will be able to
write soon.

Hope everyone is well
Lots of love,
S’ra


Arrests in Budrus: A Show of Solidarity

Boys throw stones in Palestine, but why? Do they really think that they will be
able to hurt a soldier, stop the building of a settlement or the wall or stop
an incursion into their village or city? Maybe they will hit a soldier and the
solider will get a bruise that will last a week or so, but they will not be
killed by this stone. The soldiers fire rubber bullets and live ammunition,
which kill, taking lives away.

The portion of the Annexation Wall being built now in Budrus is located
extremely close to the school. Each morning the bulldozers and jack hammers
wake up and start work before the students and teachers arrive to the school.
When the boys enter the school, they can see the construction site from the
field where they sometimes kick a soccer ball around before school starts. 
Each day the drilling drains out the sound of children’s laughter and the
chirping of the birds.  Behind the construction area is an Israeli military
training base, a constant roar of gunfire.  Soldiers stand close to the
bulldozers and construction equipment, looking across at the school, in a
forest where the children once where able to go play. They have their guns
pointed towards the schoolyard and yell at the children if they stray from the
schoolyard to go play in the olive groves between the wall and the school.  The
wall is wrapping around their village and eight other villages. Soon there will
be only one entrance in and out of the entire area. It could take hours to get
to Ramallah, where the closest universities and hospitals are, not to mention
jobs. So why do the boys throw stones? The stone is a symbolic act of
resistance, defiance to the Israeli occupation.

The boys sometimes throw stones before and after school at soldiers that are too
far away to hit. In return the soldiers fire tear gas, sound bombs and rubber
bullets. The schoolyard is littered with the remnants of these weapons. Lately
the soldiers have been entering the village more regularly. Two days this week
they went to the school in the morning to arrest three young boys who threw
stones. The teachers refused them entrance into the school. The soldiers do not
know the boys names but they can recognize them. The teachers knew which boys
they were looking for so they had the boys change their clothes and snuck them
out of the school.  Other internationals and I went to the school the last two
days to try to deter the soldiers from coming back, they never arrived and
hopefully they will stop coming to the school. Of course if the soldiers were
not protecting the workers who are building the wall, the boys would have
nothing to throw stones at. If there were no bulldozers or humvees, they would
play soccer like ordinary boys after school.

Budrus hosted their 49th demonstration against the wall on Tuesday. Over 150
village members, 60 Israelis, and 25 internationals came to protest. It was
planned and coordinated by the village and Israelis. Thirty-seven Israelis were
detained and four arrested at the protest, when asked for identification, they
all gave the name of Ahmed Awad, a man from Budrus who was arrested three
months ago for non-violently resisting the wall. He has been held in
administrative detention for three months, a special legal system established
by the Israeli government for Palestinians, a legal system which grants
Palestinians no rights. Over forty Israelis intended to get arrested to show
their solidarity with Ahmed Awad. They have the privilege to participate in
civil disobedience like this, because they know they will be released, a right
that Palestinians do not possess. Under administrative detention Palestinians
can be held without charges being filed against them for an indefinite period
of time.

The demonstration on Tuesday turned into a battlefield of young boys throwing
rocks and Israeli soldiers using tear gas, sound bombs, and rubber bullets.
Tear gas infiltrated many houses close to the school. One Israeli woman, fell
on top of a sound bomb which exploded underneath her, singeing her hair and
skin.  The ambulance that carried her was tear gassed. Soldiers occupied a
house in the village and went to the roof to throw more tear gas and sound
bombs. Eventually when night fell the soldiers finally left Budrus and families
went to eat dinner after an exhausting day of inhaling tear gas and trying to
escape the soldiers.

Earlier this year when I was in Budrus, Ahmed Awad, also known as Abu Hassan,
invited 15 internationals and Israelis to his house for lunch. Each of us was
served five different types of soup, half a chicken, a huge bowl of rice, bread
and all the tea and coffee we wanted.  We all left barely able to walk, feeling
gracious for his family’s outrageously kind meal. Ahmed is a sheep and goat
herder. Much of the land where he took his sheep and goats to graze is under
Israeli control now. While he is in jail his brother is tending to his animals,
a job they both share. The Israelis that came for lunch that day were neighbors
and invited guests, not occupiers and invaders.  These kinds of gestures
strengthen the ties and trust between two people who have been isolated from
each other, and who have been taught to hate each other. The people of Budrus
and many Israelis have become genuine friends, a hopeful sign for what will be
a long process of trust building and living together as neighbors.


Meeting Mousa’s Family

Yester day I had the honor of meeting my friend Mousa’s family, my friend from
Vermont, not to mention a marvelous gardener. Mousa comes from Abud, a village
of 2,200 people in the Western Ramallah district. His family was most gracious,
with tea, delicious food, and babies to coddle. Christians and Muslims share the
village and live side by side.  This community has been spared enclosure by the
Annexation Wall. However, they feel the effects of the occupation daily.

Three illegal Israeli settlements surround Abud. Bet Arie, built in 1982,
confiscated 800 dunums from Abud (four dunums equal one acre). Then in 1988 the
construction of Ofraim took another 650 dunums from the village. Most recently
in 2001, the Israeli military built a military settlement, Naveh Iyyre, for the
storage of military vehicles and equipment, which seized 60 dunums of land.

Transportation on two of the three main roads into Abud is impeded by
roadblocks, huge cement blocks placed in the middle of the road. The cement
blocks are still present on the the road that is currently open. The blocks are
on the side of the road so the military can completely enclose the village at
any moment. Almost daily the military enters the village escalating the
situation. They have no reason except to provoke the village. The soldiers have
asked the mayor why the boys throw stones at the jeeps. He eloquently replied,
“If the soldiers did not come into the village, the boys would not throw
stones.”

The economic situation in the village mirrors the rest of the West Bank and
Gaza. Since the beginning of the Second Intifada almost all Palestinians are
not allowed to enter Israel or the settlements to work. Two hundred fifty
people from Abud once traveled to Israel and the settlements for employment.
Now they are either unemployed or seeking work in Ramallah, like everyone one
else in the region. With such high unemployment rates, wages have plummeted in
Ramallah.

Just like most rural villages in the West Bank, every family in Abud has olive
trees.  Before 2000, these families exported olive oil to the Hebron region,
Gaza and Jordan, but since the Second Intifada, the Israeli government has
imposed closure (the inability of people and products to move out of their
immediate vicinity).  In the last few years the importation of olive oil from
countries like Spain, have driven the price of olive oil down, making it
impossible to survive off the sale of olive oil.  In 2001 the Israeli
government cut 3,500 olive trees in Abud, which lined an exclusive Israeli
settler road. The Israeli military claimed that Palestinians could hide behind
the trees and shoot at settlers as they drove by.  For the sake of “security”
Abud lost 3,500 olive trees. The military cleared one hundred meters on each
side of the road.

According to Elias Azar, the mayor of Abud and Mousa’s second cousin, due to the
severe economic hardship, approximately half the population of Abud lives
outside the village (another 2,200 people). They have moved to the Ramallah or
to Jordan or the United States if the could obtain visas.

While I was in Abud, I went to meet Dina, a spirited mother of five beautiful
children. Last year her husband was murdered in front of her children, no one
knows why to this day. This story is similar to the story of so many other
martyrs. Now Dina must support her five children and elderly mother on her own.
She cleans the classrooms at one of the schools in Abud. While I sat with the
family and practiced the little Arabic I know, I looked into those children’s
eyes and wanted to cry. Those children, aged 7 to 12, watched the murder of
their father, their eyes were no longer innocent, and their childhood was
stolen from them in a matter of minutes. This image, an image of absolute
horror, will be with them the rest of their lives. Yet their never ending
smiles remain in my memory.







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