Showing posts tagged palestine
5 Broken Cameras
Please watch this. Message me if you want to watch it online.
“I wish everyone could at least have a snippet of my childhood in the desert of Palestine. The air, balmy and thick with heat, and the rubble, crumbled and ancient. There is a spirit that flows through the rooted trees and the vast plains. It whispers at night under the scintillating, unperturbed stars and flutters through the crests of the mountains and into the valleys. The children cry in laughter in the streets of the small neighborhood of El-Khidawi. Running after each other, rustling the dirty lands with fresh prints of life. On the corner, Abu-Namoos and his son fry falafel in the sizzling oil. A systematic operation of sizzle and smiles placed between sandwich orders. I hand him two shekels and ask for a sandwich with shatta. He glances at my glass eyes and freckles and remembers that I am Awad’s granddaughter. The granddaughter that trickles back into the neighborhood streets every four years or so; each time with a part of her different, a part of her matured. I become a living snapshot of human life running wild and untamed during a game of tag. Running, running, running until the sweet desert air feels compressed in my lungs and I can run into the night forever. Unleashed from my own oppressive sense of vanity, I rub my clean eyes to the world around me. The mountains envelope the valley, the lights sparkle in the midst of the desert, and the moon, whole and round, emits the aura of welcome. I have changed, but my Palestinian desert will always be with me. In the depths of my soul, my grandfather’s canopy of grapes shelters my inner most being. The roots are tangled and intertwined with the knots of vein in my body. And I, Fadila Ehab Akel, know that I am blessed by the hand of Allah Subhana Wa’talah to have this snippet of childhood in the desert of Palestine.”
by fadilaakel, The Palestine you don’t know: Experience Palestine : Maktub.
UNRWA organizes kite event to honor Japan quake victims near a Japanese-funded housing project in Khan Younis in the southern Gaza Strip on March 18, 2012 , Palestine .
Rachel Corrie, beautiful soul, born in Olympia, Washington was no ordinary child, no ordinary 23 year old student and no ordinary human being. And people, who are extraordinary, never die. They live for ever in the hearts and minds of their followers. They give direction to many and because of them, hope never dies. Because of such crazy and courageous, the ugliness of injustices is exposed.
Her 5th grade speech ‘I am here because I care’ revealed no small dreams. At such a tender age, she talked of the oppressed, the poor and hungry and resolved to eradicate the ugly realities by the year 2000. As a student, she was different and wanted to explore the world especially after 9/11, year 2001. Ditching a beautiful and colourful American dream which she could have lived like many of her age, she travelled thousands of miles to Gaza to act as a human shield, where mercy and humanity is butchered every day and night, where men, women and children are murdered as a part of ethnic cleansing program, where houses are bulldozed, olive trees are cut, help including food and medicines from the rest of the world is denied and flotillas travelling to help humanity are attacked.
‘’Anyway, I’m rambling. Just want to write to my Mom and tell her that I’m witnessing this chronic, insidious genocide and I’m really scared, and questioning my fundamental belief in the goodness of human nature. This has to stop. I think it is a good idea for us all to drop everything and devote our lives to making this stop. I don’t think it’s an extremist thing to do anymore. I still really want to dance around to Pat Benatar and have boyfriends and make comics for my co-workers. But I also want this to stop. Disbelief and horror is what I feel. Disappointment! I am disappointed that this is the base reality of our world and that we, in fact, participate in it. This is not at all what I asked for when I came into this world. This is not at all what the people here asked for when they came into this world. This is not the world you and Dad wanted me to come into when you decided to have me.’’ (28.02.2003)
What did she have in common with the Palestinian; faith, ethnicity, skin colour, language, social background? Absolutely nothing! What was common was humanity. She had eyes that could appreciate the truth, mind that wasn’t closed because of any bias, heart that would cry on injustice and brutality and a soul that would feel the pain of Nazi-style genocide.
”I think, although I’m not entirely sure, that even the smallest of these children understand that life is not like this everywhere..”
In 2003, Rachel’s news opened a new aspect of Palestinian cause to me. I learnt humanity existed above the boundaries of faith, ethnic origins and languages. I came to learn there are people on this earth who would risk their lives and everything for some other people despite absolutely no worldly strings attached between them. And it’s to date that I have explored a world that is cruel, unjust and merciless, but such people are a reason to live and resist. They give you direction, motivation and energy to challenge the ugly forces of the world.
For me Rachel Corrie is not the name of a person. It’s a phenomenon which embodies humanity, resistance, courage and craziness. Yes, she was as crazy as it needs to be to shake the world and stir the plans of the handful of unjust men ruling this world. And it’s this craziness and madness which is the ultimate requirement to challenge falsehood and malice. Human beings live and die, but phenomena, missions and ideas never die. They’re like beacons of light for generations to come. Rachel Corrie, an American, a peace activist and a trailblazer, will always be my hero.
“Love you. Really miss you. I have bad nightmares about tanks and bulldozers outside our house and you and me inside. Sometimes the adrenaline acts as an anaesthetic for weeks and then in the evening or at night it just hits me again – a little bit of the reality of the situation. I am really scared for the people here’..“When I come back from Palestine, I probably will have nightmares and constantly feel guilty for not being here, but I can channel that into more work. Coming here is one of the better things I’ve ever done. So when I sound crazy, or if the Israeli military should break with their racist tendency not to injure white people, please pin the reason squarely on the fact that I am in the midst of a genocide which I am also indirectly supporting, and for which my government is largely responsible.” “I love you and Dad…” Email to parents ~ 27.02.2003
We are all born and someday we’ll all die. Most likely to some degree alone.What if our aloneness isn’t a tragedy? What if our aloneness is what allows us to speak the truth without being afraid? What if our aloneness is what allows us to adventure – to experience the world as a dynamic presence – as a changeable, interactive thing?
If I lived in Bosnia or Rwanda or who knows where else, needless death wouldn’t be a distant symbol to me, it wouldn’t be a metaphor, it would be a reality.
And I have no right to this metaphor. But I use it to console myself. To give a fraction of meaning to something enormous and needless.
This realization. This realization that I will live my life in this world where I have privileges.
I can’t cool boiling waters in Russia. I can’t be Picasso. I can’t be Jesus. I can’t save the planet single-handedly.
I can wash dishes.”
“I removed hundreds of roadblocks and checkpoints, to ease freedom of movement in the Palestinian areas; this facilitated a fantastic growth in the Palestinian economy. But again — no response. I took the unprecedented step of freezing new buildings in the settlements for 10 months.”
Netanyahu UN Speech
Malcolm X can refute this the best:If you stick a knife in my back nine inches and pull it out six inches, that’s not progress. If you pull it all the way out, that’s not progress. The progress comes from healing the wound that the blow made.
Outlandish- Look Into My Eyes