Across the Brooklyn Bridge

Rafah Pundits - A focus on Rafah, located in the Gaza Strip.

Posted by Alif at 5:30 PM | Permalink | Comments   

Ahlan was sahlan...
"Nunca pensaba que hay otros en el mundo que vienen de los raices Philistini y Colombiana. Ismi Cynthia y ana min madinat San Francisco. My father is from Ramallah and my mother from Bogota. I was born here in the states and have been to Colombia, but have yet to make the trip to visit Ramallah. I am not yet ready for that adventure, but hope to be in the next few years. I am working on my arabic and have a ways to go."

"It is wonderful to learn of another person out there with this cultural mix. I thought my brothers and sisters were quite possibly the only ones, (we are five). I am writing up grad school applications- more specifically essays on how my family contributed to the development of my personality when I jumped up and typed "Palestinian Colombian" into a search engine. I didn't expect to find myself on a blog. Anyway, I just wanted to say hello. Que estes bien. I will look forward to checking in on this blog. Ma salaam."

Posted by Alif at 9:02 PM | Permalink | Comments   

I've been known for talking in my sleep. Whenever I've spent the night as a guest in someone's home, I've always received a report in the morning on what I said while dreaming.

Last night I spent the night in the city rather than go home late on the subway. After getting up this morning, I asked my host: "Did I talk in my sleep last night? People have always told me that I do."

"Yes, you did. You even responded to me when I talked back to you."

"Really. What did I say?"

"You said, 'I want my mother to see me. I want my mother to see me.' and I asked you 'Why?'
You said, 'Because no one sees the Palestinian people.' Then I asked you, 'Why doesn't anyone see the Palestinian people?,' and you said, "Because they are under occupation.'"

My recent trip to the West Bank of the Occupied Territories has had a profound effect on me. I still continue to think of it by day and dream of it by night.

Posted by Alif at 5:05 PM | Permalink | Comments   

"This bending of truth, this unquestioning acceptance of the "spin" of Israel's leaders about this all-too-familiar "news" story results from the U.S. media's singular and constant kowtowing to a vast public relations effort. Nowhere in its story, for example, does the Globe hint that a Palestinian's committing an act of "terrorism" might be a desperate act tying rid her homeland of an illegal occupation. Nowhere does the paper indicate that such acts of "terrorism" might be, in fact, acts of "resistance." Violent acts against any civilians are not justified. On the other hand, the U.S. media might at least put the "victim" shoe on the proper foot. It is the Israelis, not the Palestinians, who are building a wall that the International Court of Justice has found illegal---and in the process has found the building of Israeli settlements on Palestinian land to be illegal, to say nothing of the entire occupation of the West Bank and Gaza."

What the news doesn't report about yesterday's attack in Israel

Posted by Alif at 1:20 PM | Permalink | Comments   

"Good morning my uncle.

Here in the University it's 8:15 in the morning, Yesterday I couldn't go to the University because the soldiers close all the road and they prevented our to go for Ramallah, so I had to go back to my village.

In 11:00 I want to go for the lecture, its finish on 12:30, after that I want to continua writing my letter to you.

Love,
A"

Posted by Alif at 4:07 AM | Permalink | Comments   

Drinking Tea and Smoking Sheesha in Ramallah

Posted by Alif at 1:02 PM | Permalink | Comments   

September 21, 2004

"HI....How are you today my uncle?

I told you yesterday that I want to write for you letter not about myself,just I want to ask you questions about your life, but now I want to change my plan. First, I want to tell you about my experience with the Israel soldiers in this morning. I left my home in 6;30 in the morning by the bus, when we arrived for closer village, we surprised that the soldiers stopped the bus and they started to look in the bus and on our face, then they took for everyone alone and they asked them a lot of questions, they asked me. What your name? From where you coming? Whereyou go?......Then they asked me to show them everything in my handbag. After one hour they left, and we could to go for Ramalah. So I arrived my University vary late.

My feeling when the soldiers stopped everyone this morning I were very fear and very angry, because this means when the soldiers stopped our bus, this means they want to tell me, "we don't respect you, we don't respect any Palestinian." The soldiers think that this land not for our people. When I see the soldiers in the distance, I felt that they can stopped the bus in any time, and they can do any thing to us, they can damage our life, this easy for them. When the soldiers left and we went to Ramallah, we do not talk aboutthe experience, because this became vary normal, and we adapt with this condition. Some time we forget what happened and sometimes we continue talk about the experience."

---

Palestinian Village Occupied Territories West Bank

It's admirable and courageous that students in the Occupied Territories continue to show up for life. They continue to show up for the future in spite of not knowing what tomorrow will bring. Such is the resiliency of the Palestinian people...they adapt and forge ahead in spite of the occupation and their restricted freedom of movement.

Posted by Alif at 1:03 PM | Permalink | Comments   

Palestinian Wedding, West Bank Occupied Territories 2004

The women's section.

Posted by Alif at 2:54 PM | Permalink | Comments   

Posted by Alif at 1:54 PM | Permalink | Comments   

One Man's Account...

Posted by Alif at 8:36 PM | Permalink | Comments   

My trip to the West Bank in the Occupied Territories last month has affected me in many ways. I came back changed in ways I'm not even sure I realize yet. Many of my views on how I see things in my life have changed. Some have remained the same but this trip to the West Bank, seeing my father, meeting new family, exploring a side of my background that I had never been in touch with, going through what I went through in Israel which was a nightmare and which I would never hope on anyone visiting that country...not even my worst enemy. Seeing how I was treated...and viewed by Israelis almost everywhere I went. With very few exceptions, my encounters with the Israelis on my travel there left me with the impression that they are the meanest, rudest people I'd ever met. Many there look at anyone who looks middle eastern as if they were garbage. It is as if it is practically permissible and acceptable to treat Arabs as shit. Hey, like, what are they going to do about it? Besides, they are all uneducated violent animals. They are to be viewed and treated as such.

As I said earlier, there were some exceptions along the way. There was Robert the cab driver who drove through Israel to where I would then hop into brother in law's cab waiting on the other end of a concrete barrier on a hilly back road which would then get us around the West Bank. I liked Robert. I think I may have overpaid him for the cab ride but I don't mind. I didn't know whether to trust him or not. I suspected he may be a security agent of some sort who would ask me questions under the guise of 'friendly cab driver' and then report it back to someone else. It's not as if I had anything to hide but Israel is a country that makes you paranoid by default.

I liked Robert. He was friendly and in my heart of hearts, I think Robert was sincere and what he shared with us as we conversed in the cab.

Graciela was an Argentine Jewish woman who we met in a cab while travelling through Taba, Egypt. George and I were feeling somewhat lost amidst the chaos of who was going where and what taxi should one get in and worrying that you weren't going to get ripped off by the cab driver who appeared didn't speak any English. Graciela spoke English with a spanish accent although to me it sounded German. She was an attractive older woman, probably in her 50's, travelling with her son to Casa del Mar Resort in Taba. We were discussing whether we would go to the Dead Sea whilst on this trip or if it wasn't worth the effort.
Two young attractive girls chimed in that it was too hot there and you're walking around barefoot on rocks which isn't very fun. Graciela interjected, "That is not true. Go. It is wonderful there. I live 20 minutes from there. It is wonderful."

When I told them that I was there visiting my father who lives in Ramallah, a serious look fell over the two young women and they began speaking Hebrew in serious hushed tones to each other. Graciela pulled out a pad and pen, wrote down her telephone number and handed it to us. "Here," she said. "Call me if you need help or want to ask me anything."

"Wow," I thought. I was stunned by the fact that I had met a nice person in Israel who didn't hate me by the very nature that my father is a Palestinian and thus by default I am too.

There was Serg, the hotel manager in Eilat. Serg gave us a hotel room after we had originally been told by the front clerk, "No, there are no rooms available here" without even having looked in her computer to see if in fact there might have been. We asked her, "Can you suggest another hotel around here. We dont' know where to go."
Without batting a lash, her reply was simply, "No." That was it. Just 'no.'

I approached Serg who was on the other side of the counter. "Excuse me, we're tourists here. Can you suggest a place we can stay since there are no rooms here?"

"Who told you there were no rooms here?" he asked.
"The woman working on that side of the counter. I believe her name is Vicki."
Serg began to yell at Vicki in Hebrew. He apologized to us and had her check us in. If Vicki wasn't racist, then she was just plain stupid. She hands me the key to a room which, upon opening the door, I discovered has a sleeping occupant inside.

There was also Rinat.

Posted by Alif at 3:38 PM | Permalink | Comments   

I found Ramallah to be a really interesting city. In the center of town there is a banner across one of the main streets featuring Yasser Arafat as he looks at a poster of a group of Palestian children with their hands across their hearts. I found it very surreal to see his face up there across the main thoroughfare all things considered.

Posted by Alif at 10:36 AM | Permalink | Comments