Ram

Seventeen individuals have joined in on the hunger strike protesting Israel’s Apartheid Wall. Toufic Haddad writes from day five of the solidarity tent in Ar Ram. Despite the heat wave (36 centigrade) there is a good atmosphere in the tent, and the hunger strikers - though visibly more weary n are in high spirits. Today there were questions regarding Dr. Azmi Bishara’s health. Bishara was the first to go on hunger strike, but he is also a kidney transplant receiver (via his brother). Since there haven’t been so many kidney transplant receivers who have gone on hunger strike, his doctors are especially worried. He is bravely pressing on. He never refuses interviews and is always active.

When we stepped out of our appartment, we saw our neighbours and their children dressed in the new clothes that they could afford to buy to celebrate this year’s end of Ramadan. It’s the first day of Eid al-Fitr, the “feast of fast-breaking”, marking the end of the holy month, during which Muslims fast and reflect on self-discipline and compassion. Although the sun shines, the blue sky does not speak of the difficult times Palestinians have to endure.

Last week, before a new wave of work came in, we thought about having a press conference “what will happen in Palestine with a war on Iraq?” One of my colleagues raised an eyebrow - I had asked him to speak - he simply answered my question, “More of the same shit, Diaa, what else?” Diaa Hadid writes from Ram, occupied Palestine.

“It’s dark now, and outside of my office, most of the snow has disappeared under gritty car tracks. But I think for the first time since I’ve been here, happiness came from the skies,” writes Diaa Hadid.

The tragedy at hand is the reality of virtually no West Bank or Gazan having gas masks, the even more real fear that the war on Iraq, as it has already, will be used to carry out more willful killings, more extra-judicial assassinations, more home demolitions, more arrests, more closure, more curfew, more, always more of the same. Diaa Hadid reports about the surrealism surrounding the pre-war.

I met up with a group of friends, including a few of my favourite village boys. These boys are not a politically minded bunch. Who are you going to vote for? I asked the boys. I didn’t normally ask questions like this, simply because its previously been a conversation killer.

I have a headache today. I’m not the only one. The woman in the apartment building in Silwan, where I was this morning also has a headache. So does her children. She told me herself.

History repeats itself or nothing changes. Arjan El Fassed reads an April 5, 1982 edition of Newsweek.

Will this be just another deal? Remember the previous Israeli siege of Arafat’s compound? Remember Bethlehem and the deportation? Remember the hostage taking of Ahmad Sa’adat by British and American agents in Jericho? What about the old city of Nablus and Jenin refugee camp? It seems that people have a short memory. Arjan El Fassed writes from Ram, occupied Palestine.

‘Does anyone listen? Is there anyone who cares?’ reads an appeal of Laith. He wants to go to school. Laith is 9 years old and lives in Nablus. Like all residents of Nablus, Laith is in prison, not behind bars, but under collective house arrest, curfew. Together with his friends, he made an appeal to the world.