Monday, JUNE 26

The latest news is that the Isreali soldier is still missing and that a settler has been abducted and taken into Ramallah. I've learned all this from news on CNN, Fox News and Haaretz. You wouldn't know it driving around Israel unless you're looking for the news. Daily life in Jerusalem goes on as if there is no conflict in Gaza. People go about their daily lives, buying groceries, smoking nagilla, enjoying the world cup. What can one do? They’re so used to conflict, so used to the situation changing day to day in the territories and within Israel. Have no fear, as far as we know, we are safe here and very far away from the craziness in the strip. If anything were to happen, we would be the very first on a plane out of here.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we were able to visit the Palestinian Legislative Council, the Palestinian Liberation Organization and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. We literally heard the same political jargon from everyone. The head of the PLC (Palestine’s equivalent to our Congress) is a member of Hamas. He was a charming old man with a big beard who studied in Philadelphia. At the end of our briefing with him, I went over to shake his hand but he hesitated. Many men in Islam are not allowed to touch another woman including shaking hands. It’s the same with women. It’s funny because he continually claimed to be more of a Philadelphian than a Palestinian yet he was so overly religious. It just caught me off guard.

After meeting the Palestinian government in Ramallah we headed toward the Qalandia refugee camp. There we visited the house of a 16 year old "martyr" named Ferris. Ferris was at a demonstration against the Israeli occupation (a common occurrence within both the West Bank and Gaza). Ferris was throwing rocks at the Israeli soldiers from about 100 meters away. The Israeli soldiers began to shoot at Ferris and his friends. Ferris died of a bullet through his left eye. "Um-Ferris" or "mother of Ferris" invited us into her house where the walls were covered with photos of her late son. A larger than life size "martyr poster" hung on the small living room wall. Um-Ferris spoke of her first born with tears in her eyes. She beat her chest when she recounted the events that occurred 3 years ago. She still lives, breathes and thinks of Ferris. Her whole life and the life of her family revolve around the late Ferris. Ferris’ younger brother and 4 sisters have a hard time in school and in life since his death. The daughters wake up crying for him. "For Ferris": "because of Ferris" : "everything for Ferris."

She kept saying that at 16, throwing rocks was just child’s play. "They are only children doing what they do." "I have no control over kids." "They are just being kids." Did she not know that such "games" have causes so many problems in the past? That excuse made me angry. I strongly believe it is up to the parents to teach their children right from wrong. I know it’s not a fair fight; guns vs stones. But all the same, wouldn’t a parent warn his or her children about such dangers? At what age does it stop becoming child’s play? Are any of the parents in this camp against this?

There is no way I can relate the pain that is caused by losing one’s child. I cannot image the sense of loss. I grieved with the mother for the loss of Ferris, but I was also tremendously sad for her, her remaining children and her husband. The parents had completely given up on life; their lives and the lives of their children. I cannot say that someone should get over anyone’s death but this woman refused to move on. Is that too harsh of me? Am I wrong? I know I wasn’t the only one who felt this way upon leaving Ferris’ home. There was no hope in their minds, in their house. It was painfully sad.

After leaving Um-Ferris’ home, we traveled to the house of a young man who was shot 36 times in his leg by an Israeli soldier. He was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a yet another story that is not so rare in this region. The children in the camp followed us wherever we went. The other students passed out bags full of candy to them. All the children hesitated at first but then they succumbed to the temptation. All the children except one; his name was also Ferris. He was a chubby boy with a dirty face and sneakers that were at least 5 sizes too large. He yelled at the other kids for taking the candy. I attempted to talk to him about why he was so angry but he kept acting like a smart ass. I caught him bullying a few of the kids and actually slapping one boy up against his head for taking candy. I quickly went the boy’s aid and got mad at Ferris. I gave him a dirty look and told him to stop. He did so, completely shocked that I would have the guts to get mad at him. He was embarrassed and at the same time intrigued by the fact that I got mad at him.

A few minutes later I approached him, feeling bad that I had gotten mad at him. I smiled at him, he smiled back. I asked if we could be friends, he nodded. We walked for a bit and talked about soccer. He had a crayon in his hand that he pretended to smoke from time to time. I told him it was a bad habit and that he should quit, he said he would. In fact, I made him promise. He finally allowed me to take photos of him and the other kids also. I think I made a friend. Check out the photos.