Linda Spence's Palestine Diary

April 6th 2006 3pm local time. Ramallah region, West Bank Palestine

Where to begin - I’m tired already, life can be exhausting here - dull hours spent at checkpoints ensure this on a daily basis, and bewildering - as you try to make sense of the cultural and religious customs and ever- changing political landscape. But my most striking impression of Palestine, which will stay in my heart forever is the kindness, generosity and humour of the Palestinian people.

This is the first time I’ve felt able to write anything - to be honest it's all been too mind-boggling to get enough clarity to get my thoughts down. The welcome and warmth is the same whether from a village farmer, whose gratitude at my presence is humbling, to the Jerusalem taxi driver who doesn't know me from any other tourist but will respond with immediate offers of help if I even look vaguely lost.

I'm pleasantly surprised to find this in an area so long under violent, illegal occupation.

In other ways, the situation here is much as I’d imagined it i.e. road blocks, and endless checkpoints some of which resemble those of Berlin-with-wall days. The Israeli apartheid-like wall is immense - high and menacing, meandering and complicated in its route. The checkpoints are oppressive with Palestinian people (or those who are visibly so) often waiting for hours to make necessary journeys to school, work, hospital etc. As ‘internationals’ our privilege allows us queue-jump - the young Israeli conscripts invite us to frequently, perhaps wanting to be friendly or else trying to get us to somehow collude in their disgusting mission. But we won’t use our advantage in this way. Instead we wait in solidarity with the Palestinian people or, if they ask us, plead for clemency for women with children and older people. I'm really struggling to understand the intricacies of the politics from which this has grown. Sure I have a reasonable knowledge of the history, but this is something outside of my normal experience. This is history in the making, where policy is moving constantly, arbitrary rule making/changing by the IDF and Israeli government - allegedly in the name of security. This same 'defensive' has involved over the past 4 days, rockets being fired daily into Gaza by the IDF where today a 5 year old girl was killed by them. That's the Gaza, which Israel has withdrawn from and is now free to blow to pieces. There are few human rights activists in Gaza now. Due to the extreme harshness of the situation, kidnappings are a threat. I spoke to two independent activists who stayed there for 2 months but eventually fled as news that they may be about to be kidnapped reached them. It's unlikely I'll be going there at the moment and don't have a strong desire to.

- Woman attempts to cross checkpoint (photo ISM)

Friday April 7th 2.00pm local time Ramallah region

I attend a demonstration at a village in the West Bank called Bil'in. The wall is under construction here and cuts through the middle of a village, denying access to the villagers to their olive groves. Every Friday, unarmed locals, and Israeli and international peace activists face the mighty Israeli army. This is mostly a peaceful demonstration. Today, the army has blocked a gate, which is supposed to allow access to those who have passes. Some of us manage to break through the blockade. There’s struggling, shouting and temperatures rise. The soldiers using their m16's to push us back. Some demonstrators manage to pull away some recently placed barbed wire rolls, then without warning the army throw 20-30 sound grenades. This is ear-splittingly painful and many of us run away scared. In the confusion, it's difficult not to be afraid especially when I remember that this is the same army, which fired live ammunition on people who were cutting through a settlement fence. Their capacity for anger, violence and injury must be treated with respect.

- IDF surround demonstrators who have breached the barbed wire barricades which cut their village in two at bil’in

Later about 50 demonstrators make a memorial for a villager He was killed a few days ago when floodwaters from heavy rain, trapped by the security wall further up the road swept his car from the road. There are more scuffles, much shouting and tear gas is fired. Enshallah (praise god) there has been no rubber coated metal bullets or live rounds today.

I have a profound moment of sadness and humility when I see the people of Bil’in, men like my father, your brother, my uncle battling against armed 18 year olds. It seemed at times like a lost cause, unarmed, ordinary men against heavily armed combatants. But it is too early in my trip, and not my place case to say this is not effective action. The soldiers are mainly youthful conscripts. It's hard to know how many of them want to be there. Along with their armoury, their Gucci-style sunglasses, lipstick and trendy watches are almost equally disconcerting. I know they must feel afraid and confused too. At this demonstration, a female soldier smiles constantly and I can’t tell if this is a mask for fear or a genuine attempt at friendliness.

- Local argues with IDF about his right of access to his land

Training with ISM is now finished so tomorrow I'm going to Nablus to stay in Balata refugee camp. In a few houses near the camp, the army have moved in with families because their homes afford good vantage points from which to shoot resistance fighters. The families are under house arrest despite being guilty of nothing and one of my jobs will be to take them supplies. The other place I’m needed is Hebron where Palestinian children are stoned by children of the illegal settlements on an almost daily basis as they walk to school. Internationals like myself are also stoned and spat on - Right now, Nablus seems like the soft option.

- This year’s Israeli conscripts are wearing Gucci!

April 8th Nablus 12.00 midday

Last night was tough. I’m staying in a refugee camp, which is home to 30,000 people displaced in the Israeli invasions of 1948 and 1967. It's a hellhole but still the people are amazing considering what they’ve had to suffer.

It's a gorgeous sunny day here in Nablus and I’ve left the camp to use the net cafe. As I sit here typing, last night’s events already seem like a surreal, distant nightmare.

So.. We arrive at Balata refugee camp to be greeted by Ayyesh who gives us our briefing and cultural orientation. Ayyesh is 28 and works with ISM as a local co-ordinator. He tells us he has an English wife who he met when she was working with him. They worked together for a year before disclosing their feelings for each other. They were then marries in Balata camp but they are not able to be together because Israel won’t let her back in or him out. Despite his cheeky humour and cheerfulness I later begin to notice his sadness leaking through.

Ayyesh tells us we can move around the camp alone during the day but by night we should always be accompanied by a Palestinian and be aware of curfews which are regularly imposed by the IDF. We should be careful about taking photographs as 'fighters' (Palestinian armed resistance) may think we're spies or mistake us for army in the darkness - there is no street lighting here! We should be friendly to the fighters who will be pleased we are there but not become too friendly with them, lest we get caught up in something ‘difficult’ whatever that means. Already I’m feeling a little out of my depth when Ayyesh tells us what our work may entail. We may be telephoned by the emergency medical team, probably in the middle of the night and asked to escort them to anyone who'd been injured by the IDF during their attacks.

Ayyesh tells us “there may be 'rivers of blood’ if someone has been shot but you must stay calm. If there is a clash (between fighters and the IDF, you must step to the side in case you get shot (I had no problem with that!). If a house is occupied (the army occupy houses to get good sniper positions and imprison the occupants sometimes for days) you may have to take food and water supplies and show the family they have support”. I am quietly afraid and unable to show enthusiasm for the nocturnal trials, which possibly await us. We also meet Ahmed our ISM ‘apprentice’. He’s 21 and studies IT and English. I notice he’s very underweight and don’t think this is merely his build. Later this is confirmed as he confesses that he has some problems eating due to the stress he’s under from the Israeli military action.

- Balata camp from www.palsolidarity.org

After our ‘local training’ we tour Balata camp and Ayyesh takes us to some “martyr” homes. These are houses where people have died as a direct result of the occupation). Even though we have been joined by a Belgian human rights group of 20 people, we somehow squeeze into the houses and are given tea at each one! This is not by any means my first or last experience of maximum Palestinian hospitality. Our co-ordinator joked about us being kidnapped -“ oh don’t worry, they’ll be the best kidnappers you’ve ever had they’ll bring you non-stop tea and snacks.” Ayyesh tells the team that we must take special care for those among us who ‘look Palestinian’ as they are more likely to be a target and draw Israeli fire. This includes me as it happens. I don’t know whether to feel proud or afraid!

Later back at the apartment I am nervous but amazingly manage to sleep, Jane BJ and Lauren my team-mates persuades me that I don't need to sleep in my clothes.

- Concrete jungle of Balata refugee camp, where the sun never shines

Blissful slumber is violently interrupted at 3.30 am when we’re awoken by gunfire. Apparently this is normal. However, 'normal' soon gives way to terrifying as the gunfire escalates. We hear several loud explosions that are clearly right outside our apartment and what sounds like tanks or Hummers approaching. Then we hear shouting in Hebrew on our stairwell and another huge explosion. I fear we could be under rocket attack. Then I believe it could be a clash when I hear what I assume are soldiers taking up sniper positions on our roof. This surely makes us a target? We dress quietly, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves and whisper together about what we should do. I lie back on top of my sleeping bag feeling like a child in a thunderstorm but suddenly become calm when it occurs to me that the locals live with this the majority of the time. I remind myself what I came for and become really calm. We really don't know what to do. Should we go out and see if support is needed or will we risk bringing more danger to others and ourselves. We decide to stay inside. This turns out to be wrong when we discover in the morning that 6 18 year olds were arrested and taken into custody. Why was our action or lack of wrong? Well, by showing an international presence it turns out we may have been able to prevent the arrests. The youths will certainly be tortured according to a local social worker. These young men were not ‘wanted’ either, just casual trophies of the night. Ahmed also tells me that his neighbour was arrested and as he heard the army breaking down the door he quietly got dressed, found his ID and waited quietly for them to come for him.

On a more positive note. Today I visited a women's centre, which was amazingly progressive in terms of the therapies they offer. I'm making the most of the day and the sun because I don't know what tonight will bring but hope I have the courage to face it.

- Balata refugee camp kids

April 11th 2.00pm Nablus city centre and Salem Village

This is going to sound dreadful but I’m actually getting used to the nightly gunfire in Balata. To be fair though, we haven't experienced anything as bad as that first night.

Had a wonderful day yesterday where I actually felt useful. The farmers of the nearby village Salem needed to work on their nearby fields.
We have a meeting, our co-ordinator Ayyesh tells us that we'll be needed to protect the farmers as the fields come within half a kilometre of an Israeli settlements and the farmers are pretty much guaranteed to be attacked buy the settlers some of whom are (and are allowed to be) armed with guns including kalashnikovs. The surrounding mountainous countryside is breathtaking. I feel nervous because there are only 3 of us (internationals) which won't be enough to prevent a settler attack. As we near the land that is to be ploughed, around 20 settlers walk over the brow of the hill - it's like high noon without the feel-good or entertainment factors. I get goosebumps anyhow! There are more farmers this time but the settlers are by far more dangerous, and if they attack a Palestinian, past evidence suggests they will get away with it. (Palestinians have no rights under Israeli law, they are simply not covered by it. I know it sounds bizarre -it is) In, reverse this yields the opposite results with many Palestinians being arrested for even arguing with settlers. (This settler issue is a whole other thing, which I am profoundly shocked by and which has proved a huge learning curve for me) 'Fortunately’, the army who enforce such 'apartheid' laws are also there to protect the farmers and will do so if we internationals insist upon it.

- Palestinian olive Trees which have been vandalised by Israeli settlers

There are around 15 soldiers today and we are relieved to have them there. They are rude and aggressive and break international law when they insist that there is an imaginary line across the field which the farmers must not plough beyond. It is clear whose side they're on yet they dare not allow a settler attack with an international presence. The farmers begin work. Meanwhile, we are joined by around 15 Israeli activists from nearby kibbutz and tell Aviv. It's good to work with them and a relief to leave them to argue with the settlers in Hebrew. Many of us believe that the most successful resistance must come from the ground and include a united Arabic/Israeli force.........

I have a few arguments with soldiers, 'why can't I take a photograph of the settlement?' (Actually I'm trying to photograph of a donkey but the settlement just happens to be in the background). I'm told it isn't allowed and my camera will be confiscated. Meanwhile, the settlers snap freely at us for which I give them the peace rather then the victory sign!

I help a young farmer to hoe round an olive tree - it's exhausting in the hot sun but he is polite about my poor effort! The Harratz newspaper snaps several photos of me for reasons unknown but I am totally embarrassed in case the farmer thinks I’m seeking a photo opportunity.

- An armed Israeli settler talks to a reporter

After a few hours, of traipsing up and over steep slopes to maintain the broadest protection we can achieve lunch is announced. The farmers provide a wonderful local picnic of homemade, brown unleaven bread, tomatoes, cheese and olives and some other local vegetable dishes. It's wonderful to be in such gorgeous surroundings doing 'useful' work in great company. A few more hours, and very few settler problems later and the farmers finish. They're hugely grateful to have been able to get so much work done due to our presence. I feel a some small gratitude to, to have been able to help without having to experience teargas, live ammunition and extreme violence.

- Lunch with the farmers

We return to the stinking, overcrowded hot camp of frightening, beautiful resistance where the fighters are hard to morally defend or criticise in equal measure. I hope that the camp doesn’t become like Jenin where the fighters are hero-worshipped as they are the only element of protection for the people there. I hope that Balata doesn't go this way, as it is the road of no return for the young men involved and any future peace process. We hear that Gaza is under daily rocket attack and are simultaneously sad and relieved not to be there. Our return to the camp is troubled by rumours of an army invasion and indeed people are panic buying pita bread and other produce from the tiny shops and stalls of the camp. But on this night for some reason on this night the noise of gunfire is subservient to 4am dawn prayers blasted from the loudspeaker on our roof!

I’m coping ok but feel tired all the time. Hope everyone’s ok at home, as I haven’t had time to tune in properly. I feel as though I should balance things a little...........pleasures, olives, spring flowers, HUGE strawberries and fresh produce in general, local friendliness, gorgeous scarves!

April 12 1.00pm

Today there was a rally in the community centre next to our camp. The square was packed with local people who’d brought along framed photos of all the loved ones, sons, fathers, brothers who’d been killed or imprisoned through the occupation.

April 14th Nablus 1.30pm

Ahmed has started calling me Amty, which is Arabic for aunty (funnily enough). I love being his surrogate family because he is separated from his real family. They live in another town and he’s not allowed through the checkpoints to visit them. We hear on the radio that there has been a martyr bombing it Tel Aviv. It’s dreadful news.

I make sure to speak to as many Palestinians as possible. The vast majority tell me they are completely opposed to the bombing. And this is the opinion from Nablus, which is real Hamas country and a stronghold of resistance of the occupation. Also it is frequently being cited as extremist and fundamentalist. I see no evidence of that here.

I speak to a 70 year old man this morning. He seems annoyed that I should ask such a question. He gets very angry with me and starts shaking, saying things like; "How many people have we lost?” “How many children have died?” I understand his position; the numbers killed on the Palestinian side of the occupation far outweigh those on the Israeli side yet I see very little coverage of what is going on here. Why?

April 15th 2.30 Nablus region

We receive a call at 10am to say that the army has occupied a house and the family held prisoner inside. We are needed to approach the house and give support to the family, and generally check that they are ok. The army are more likely to respond to 'internationals' and to allow food to be sent in. In pal people shop on a daily basis so food can run put very quickly and there is no knowing how long the army will stay. When the children of this family's friends called for them to go to school, it was discovered that the army were in the house. The local shebab (youth) then began to pelt the house with stones.

The stone throwing is relentless and continues for about an hour. This is the only way they feel they can offer resistance and it is not altogether futile) Meanwhile children are coming and going from schools (two of which were next to us) and we escort them to safety past the occupied house as by now the army has begun shooting live ammunition. I have to admit I was shocked that they were using live ammo. Live ammo against stone-throwing kids? Every time I cross in front of the house I think of Tom Hurndall and think 'Shit. I'm not brave enough and I don't want to die even heroically'. I'm very aware of the fact that the TV crews are about 100 metres further back than us and have bulletproof vests and helmets. We move back a little for safety and a bullet wings the wall next to the film cameraman, another hits a van we are standing next to. Are the Israeli army actually trying to shoot us to give a warning?

- A van next to us gets a bullet - you can just see me wearing the fluorescent tabard

My mouth is very dry and I become aware that I am shaking but then quickly realise I'm cold (we'd rushed out without coats and the weather is very changeable here). I’m unsure where fear starts and cold begins. We moved forward again (why??) and a bullet misses my friend by centimetres, which she doesn't actually notice. By now I'm feeling really shaken then I see a boy standing very close (half a metre maybe) get hit by a bullet. He claps his neck and groans and cries but doesn't scream. He is also running, to safety as it turns out because he reaches a wall, his legs buckle. We kneel beside him but the ambulance, which has been on standby, is right there and takes him away before we can help him.

Now I am really shocked, yet for some reason I feel I have to stay as the rest of my group seem braver. There is lots more ammo and some very close yet our coordinator wants us to stay so we can check out the family if and when the army evacuate the house. Tear gas is fired, shebab are everywhere! We take brief shelter in a café. The owner welcomes us in. My face begins to burn. My arms feel hot and prickly. I quickly realise this is the tear gas. The Israeli army use a particularly strong variety. I can breathe ok because Ive been sniffing perfume, which offsets the effects of the teargas I am trying to ring the press. Ayyesh asks us all to ring our various embassies. This is a way of letting people know the terrible things that are happening here. I finally get through and speak to Natalie. Natalie hasn’t got a clue. Natalie panics she says, “oh my god I can hear gunfire you must lie on the ground” Lie on the ground? Does she realise I will be run over by a jeep or trampled underfoot. Natalie keeps ringing, she’s really rather nice and genuinely concerned for my safety. Unfortunately I don’t think she really ‘gets’ the situation here, despite being based in Jerusalem. She tells me I must leave. I tell her I’m here to assist the Red Crescent and I can’t lave and nor can the poor Palestinian people. Generally, there is more chaos and I begin to realise that I have lost my focus and am thinking only about injury and my family. I decide to leave and two people (including our guide Ahmed) accompany me. After 5 hours of dodging bullets, it is only when we are back in the camp that I feel safe again.

- Tear gas and tanks as the army evacuate Nablus after and invasion

When the group returns I hear that another child has been shot beside them (also an innocent bystander) and our coordinator took him to hospital in a taxi. I haven't heard how both boys are. We are then asked for volunteers to go to Jenin to the suicide bombers family house to help prevent or at least witness collective punishments, which the army usually carry out. We hear from the mayor of the village that the whole village is scared and would like us to go in solidarity. I volunteer because I feel I must.........'Luckily’ in the morning we are told it is too late because the army has taken the father and brother of the family in the night. No doubt I will soon hear of their fate.

I’m aware that there have not been enough Palestinian deaths as punishment for the Tel Aviv crime.

Natalie from the embassy rings again, if her ignorance is worrying then her concern for me and persistence are certainly endearing. She wants to know if I’m still here “yes” I say not wishing to enlarge or hear myself making excuses. She talks about evacuating (possibly airlifting) me “err thanks but that won’t be necessary” I say and end the call. Ayyesh however is highly amused and thinks this could be a good media opportunity. I am mortified at the thought and able to dissuade him from this course!

Falafel and strawberries for tea again.

April 16th Nablus 3.45pm

Today there is some semblance of 'normality' and the checkpoints are open again. Yet the army have occupied a shopping 'mall' (due to open in a month) right in the centre of Nablus. It is in a very crowded place. Mountains of luscious crimson strawberries piled up on carts, avocados, falafel stands, smoke bombs, tear gas, tooting horns, shouting, people running. Shebab can't reach the high building with stones so they burn tyres in protest; the army is using live ammo from a 6th or 7th floor window (I can hear it as I write this from the safety of the internet café and I jump at every shot). Absolute madness..........

If you read anything in the press about the shot youths from yesterday being armed or looking in anyway suspicious it is a lie. I am an eyewitness to malicious wounding (maybe murder) yet no case will be brought...

April 17th 2.30pm Nablus

The team spirit here between internationals and Palestinians alike is marvellous - really inspiring, yet I still struggle a little with ‘the fear’. Every evening after work we shop in the camp to get food for the evening meal (before dark of course!). Despite food shortages there is some nice fresh produce. We cook together then play games or cards and talk politics - it’s all good stuff. Ahmed and Ayyesh stay till late and join in. When they leave I always say “night night, sleep tight” One of my colleagues tells me that Ahmed has told him he likes me saying this because it’s the kind of thing your mum or you’re ‘amty’ might say to you”. This moves me

I almost don't have the stomach to write today and am on the verge of moving my flight home to an earlier date - as we think both Balata and Jenin camps are going to be invaded again - afraid for my safety and hedging my bets.

It's frightening a lot of the time now, as for the past few days the army have been carrying out 'operations' of random arrests. To do this they need to raid many houses after which they take away many innocent men - they don't treat them well. Ive seen horrific images of torture on a par with Iraqi prisoner photos but tenfold.

April 18th Nablus

The army were in town again today firing rubber and live ammo. I saw one of the resistance firing a handgun at a jeep. Our co-ordinator was furious and described it as pointless and dangerous. Not that he is completely against armed resistance but to fire a gun amongst civilians without care is more of an army activity.

I elected to stand back today, whenever I hear shooting now I jump so I was media contact. There were around 30 jeeps and a bulldozer near the old city. It wasn't only the shebab throwing stones - it was nearly every man and boy some in suits and, get this, the police were throwing them too - made my day! I know that sounds harsh of me. Am I getting tough and cynical already? It’s not that, it’s just heartening to see ordinary people resisting the bullying of tanks. Anyhow, their stones fall on hard metal causing little of alarm except the occasional ‘clank’ and the odd dent.

After a couple of tense hours but surprisingly, no injuries that we heard of. I ask Ayyesh if I can get some red nail varnish to paint my toenails. Clearly this is one of my easier requests as he takes me of on the quest straight away. Red painted toenails - somehow an antidote to the dust and dirt and harsh reality that we’re in right now. It offers a temporary distraction. We also have a look around Nablus today there are lots of random silly things, which amuse me, like the shop dummies for example!

- Helped Ayyesh run an art workshop with some young women (12-16 year olds). They made pictures of how they see Palestine. They were heart-rending.

April 19th 3.40

Today, we visited a representative from the governor’s office to discuss actions for the summer campaign. This woman is in high office; in all the danger and chaos it is still good to be in place where the resistance is so strong at every level. I've heard from my colleagues that in Hebron, they are all but defeated having been terrorised by settlers and the army to a point they can't fight back from.

- Nablus old city in the souk, which is gradually being reduced to rubble by the Israeli army

Oh but I forgot!!! Yesterday afternoon we went to a wedding. Someone who knew our co-ordinator just heard we were in the city and invited us. It was amazing. I was made so welcome and from people who my government has helped oppress. It was good to see some normality, love and happiness. The women danced first, then the men, after which the women made us, dance with the men. This is not normally allowed but it seems an exception could be made for us. Think they all just wanted to have a good laugh at our attempts at Arabic dancing!

April 21st

Mervat and Sameh's stories
We meet Mervat, the sister of martyr 16 year old Sameh in the internet cafe in Nablus. She spots some photos of her dead brother on our photographer's computer. An urgent exchange follows where she obtains copies and invites us to her family home. She wants us to understand the impact of Sameh's murder on the family. We understand very quickly their trauma, they seem broken. Sameh’s mother can't speak but looks at us as if searching for answers. His father moves between calm and anger. Mervat (a softly spoken intelligent woman) tells us she just wants Sameh's story to be heard in the western world. I don't have the heart to tell her that the western press isn't interested, that maybe they think life is cheap here compared to Israel, America or 'the west'.

It is very hard to hear their story, they have lost their beautiful blue-eyed smiling child and their lives will never be the same again. The only thing that will help is that he didn't die for nothing - but maybe he did. A family friend shows us footage of Sameh's shooting shot by Asia TV. The footage corroborates the family's version of events. I watch in horror as I see Sameh walk across a field after his school had closed following an army invasion. As he nears an army jeep I see him raise both arms in the air to show he is unarmed. Then I hear a shot and see him fall to the ground. Further footage shows his blood soaked broken head. I choke back tears - they won't help the family and have no business in this house

- 16 year old Sameh

April 24th

I have to leave this beautiful, tragic place tomorrow; I have very mixed feelings about going. Ayyesh likes to play practical jokes, dark practical jokes. This morning Ayyesh told me my lovely Danish friend Bjarke who was supposed to be on his way to Nablus to relieve me from my post had been stoned by Israeli settlers. He’d supposedly received a head injury so serious he was in hospital.

I’ve never quite understood this Ayyesh’s humour but imagine it comes from having had so much blood. Other people’s blood spilled in conflict on his hands as he tried to help them, that this as his way of dealing with feelings. Of course I rang Bjarke’s number immediately and he said he was on the bus and looking forward to seeing me! No head injury -no surprise! The joke is a strange parting gift!

Tonight we danced in the flat - Ayyesh made us shut the windows because this sort of behaviour is against Islam and the neighbours would certainly gossip. Ahmed taught us folk dancing moves, which seemed to be a weird fusion of hip hop and Morris dancing. It’s top fun as we weave our way, hands joined through the flat and back.

Was going to a house demolition - probably my last piece of activism - today (Palestinian houses are frequently demolished for not having the right planning permission, but, under Israeli law they are never given planning permission even to build on their own land). But turns out it's going to be any time in the next 30 days so the owners have to be on high alert for all that time. don't know what my photos will be like. very hard to take with live ammo flying past. Also I have to consider all the ways to get them home. Have posted a CD so as not to have any on memory card at the airport so hopefully they’ll arrive. Internet, bit slow so takes ages to upload.

The airport

Airport experience not great
Went through about 3 airport checks - no problem bit lengthy but then I want the plane to be safe too!
Didn't even get my bags searched as loads of others did, and get this, at check-in I was upgraded and was feeling very happy and a little bit smug! Thought it was all 'done and dusted' then had to go through another passport control check - much like the one you go through on entry. The woman looked at my passport seemed to take ages then made a phone call. Within a minute two police turned up and asked me to escort them. They took my passport away and asked me to take a seat. Two other plain-clothes men stood and guarded me. Next thing, four men-in black (well two were women) surrounded me, snatched my bag and phone out of my hands and marched me all the way back through the airport with everyone staring at me away to this room full of tables and cubicles. They asked me hundreds of questions about where I’d been and what I’d been doing, they did a very thorough examination of my hand luggage and kept asking me what things were and how long I’d had them. Different people kept asking me the same questions. I kept asking what was wrong and getting the same reply - 'problem with your passport'.

Then they found a little Muslim prayer (a small rolled up piece of paper tied with a ribbon which I’d got at the 'prisoners support day' in Nablus), which I hadn't meant to keep. A scary man asked "what's this" I didn't say where I’d got it but said it was from a mosque. He was very aggressive and said "but what is it, who gave it to you, what does it say?" I said "I don't know I think it's in Arabic" he said "what do you mean you think it's in Arabic don't you know" this went on for about 20 minutes. He went away and got someone to translate it and I thought I heard the words "Hamas" I was a bit worried then! Then I had a strip search. They seemed obsessed with the Muslim prayer and acted as if it was a bomb! All of this was carried out with a frightening sternness, lots of rushing around by the 5 people who were 'looking after me' and aggression. After the strip search and by now, 1 and a half-hours of interrogation. I said, "right I want to know what's going on and I want to call the British consul now". After that, they continued for another 10 minutes, then I was told to follow this guy who took me back past passport control, handed me my stuff back and said
'have a nice flight'

My guess is that my passport number had been registered at one of the checkpoints or something - who knows.............
They way they acted was so serious that I thought maybe I’d been 'fitted up' for something serious by the army or police! Anyway, I'm going to make a complaint! Thing is, if this is how they carry out security, it doesn't make me feel that safe. I mean they'd literally taken my luggage apart so it was obvious I wasn't carrying anything.
Oh and they confiscated my mosquito relief clicky thing, a packet of aspirin, ear plugs and some body lotion - I mean I could've carried out all manner of airborne sabotage with them couldn't I? I reckon there's a line between safety and paranoia, which they crossed. Security based on paranoia doesn't equal safety in my opinion.

Sooo good to be home!

April 29th

It’s not over yet.
I have promised to try and get the story of Sameh’s murder published. I’m also communicating with Humanitarian agencies regarding some of the shootings I’ve witnessed. I felt terrible leaving but so glad to be home safe.

I will go back, I have to, I feel collectively responsible for what the West is helping Israel to do to Palestine.

Written: 12th Jul, 06
Read: 2613 times

Linda Spence's Palestine Diary

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