There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in

Leonard Cohen does have some remarkable lyrics. There indeed is a crack in everything and sometimes, most of the times, that's how the light does get in, even through devastation. I have been here before. I have heard the cries of the working men, exhausted of hours and hours of queueing.
Qalandiya CP (checkpoint) revisited. So, what is a checkpoint? The term checkpoint is probably better known to most europeans in the context of Germany, such as Checkpoint Charlie. I have no experience of those days, so I cannot refer to it in any way. Here in Palestine and Israel it serves the same purpose, to cross areas, specifically it is a crossing point from the Westbank to Israel. Nevertheless, there are different checkpoints, flying checkpoints (checkpoint that literally fly from one spot to another), agricultural checkpoints etc. Purpose: to control access to Israel. For security reasons, obviously. I am not the one to take a stand on that, because from my experience, most of the time checkpoints seem to be places of systematic humiliation and the mission of the state ever so often seems to be to degrade humanity and not to increase security. I used to monitor this specific checkpoint with my colleagues. We were the eyes on the ground that then would report further. So, I decided to revisit this place. To see from another observants point of view. I joined two ladies from Machsom Watch, an israeli organisation of women, most of them retired from professional life, who monitor checkpoints all around the Westbank. These are feisty ladies who donate their time, knowledge and sometimes professional experience to monitoring Westbank checkpoints. We have heard stories of soldiers feeling intimidated by the Machsom Watch ladies, because they feel it's like their moms are watching after them. If you wish to contribute to their work, please go to the donation part of their website.
This is a story of one early May morning that I joined Machsom Watch on their weekly routine.

Please the Lord

"I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music do you?" Hallelujaaaa indeed. I don't know what chord David was playing but it sure didn't sound like such a pleasing tune yesterday as thousands of religious-Zionist youths (as described by Haaretz newspaper) walked down the streets of East Jerusalem and entered the Old City through Damascus Gate straight into the Muslim Quarter.

It's taken me a whole day to come around yesterday's events. I can pretty honestly say, I have never faced the kind of rage, that we experienced yesterday, in my life. And in all fairness, I didn't presume yesterday would turn out to be the way it did.

We started by walking down the streets of the Old City knowing that this march would eventually enter Damascus Gate and the Muslim Quarter, little did we know, that this celebration of "unity" would turn out that violent and disgusting. Of course the horrific thing about Jerusalem Day is that it celebrating the "unification" of Jerusalem after the Six Day War, 1967, in other words when East Jerusalem was annexed by Israel, nothing for the palestinian population to celebrate about. So really, it's sad day where extremism shows it's true face, through young boys and girl shouting insults at anybody and the IDF (Israeli Defense Force) and private security and who not are given the chance to use violence in inexplicable measures. Obviously this in only my experience, and I am not one that stands week in and week out in demonstrations and teargas is not my middle name, nor do I want it to be. What stroke me most was the violence used against people such as myself who did nothing but stand by and watch and take photographs. The few, 50 at most who demonstrated, did so peacefully. But of course, violence creates violence. I don't have a lot to say, and my pictures and far from what they could be, they don't tell the full story, because frankly I was too scared at the moment when I was squeezed into a corner by soldiers and horses, hit on the legs, the sense of panic had taken over me. This is not the place where I will hum "and it the end". No, and neither am I going to give this absurdity my life.



























And then the shit hit the fan, somehow, mysteriously, the violence was just everywhere, in my lens, on my legs, in my shoulders, surrounding us.










This guy was his own biggest fan










"ARE YOU JEWISH?! HEY, ARE Y O U JEWISH?!" this boy screamed at me. "What's it to you?" I asked. "THIS IS NOT YOUR LAND! THIS IS NOT Y O U R LAND" he shouts, "And it sure is not yours either" I reply.


This young man was an extremely talented spitter. His spit at me more than once and my lens wasn't too happy about that.


You can read more on the events online or on Hagit Ofran's blog (Peace Now). As evening falls over the Mount of Olives I cannot help but wonder how much more violence and hatred must this city and these people still go through.

Nakba Day 15.5.2012

Palestinians marching and demonstrating in East Jerusalem on the Nakba (Catastrophe) Day, 15th of May 2012. More info on Nakba, you can look up WIKIPEDIA, BBC, an interactive map on the Palestinian villages that were destroyed you can find on Electronic Intifada. Not totally sure everyone can open this link, but UNRWA has posted on their Facebook page an album called Exodus 1948, which is well worth having a look at.