The Colors

After 6 weeks of classes, seeing each group twice a week for 2 hours, a lot of progress has been made.

After the first week of classes I realized i had to completely change my curriculum because it was too advanced for their level. I am not inferring that they are not smart. They just do not have the same background in art like any other kid around the world, especially in western or first world countries. These kids are smart, but lack the materials to advance in anything related to art. I did mention before that some students had more background than others but generally, the level of skill of a 12 year old in Nablus and the Camps is equivalent to the level of a 5 year old in a first world country.

I dedicated the rest of the term for painting with colours. First i taught them how to mix colours. They were dazzled when they found out that blue + yellow = green, and that yellow + red = orange! And one of the groups spent the whole class trying to figure out why purple is made by mixing blue and red. To me and to anyone who's ever painted in their life knows that these are complete basics. I also noticed that the whole idea of *mixing* colours to create other colors is a new concept to them. I had to even show them HOW to mix. I'm sure you're wondering how could anyone not know how to mix? Well, they just simply put the colours on top of each other, dipped their paintbrush in the paint, then transferred it to the paper. Of course, without the circular motion of mixing the colours with the paintbrush to get a smooth emulsion, the resulting color will not appear. So as basic as that seems, i had to show each kid, one by one how to use their paintbrush to mix two colours to make a third colour. Even after 5 weeks of mixing colours, some students still transferred yellow and blue paint brush stripes to the paper rather than green!

The next assignment was creating the colour wheel which consists of the primary colours (blue, yellow, and red) and the secondary colours (purple, green, and orange). I only gave them paints of the primary colours to paint with. They had no problem colouring in the blue, yellow and red parts of the circle, but when it came to mixing those colours to get the secondary colours (to fill in the rest of the circle), it was chaotic! I had students pulling me from every direction. Even though I was getting a bit pessimistic about their perceptiveness in class, they were able to finish the colour wheel by the end of the class!

My hope was to get them to know how to mix colours, make dark and light colours, and experiment with mixing to make all the colours in the spectrum from the three primary colours. This way, whatever portrait they want to make in the future, they can make with as little as four paints : white, blue, green and red. Of course this is a far fetched dream for them but it is still a start better than nothing.

I explained the concept to them. I told them that these exercises are not pointless. Once they understand how colours are made, they will be unstoppable! At the end of the colour wheel class, a few students came up to me and expressed how amazing and surprising it is to create colours. They were very impressed by the simple act of mixing. At that point I knew that my classes were not pointless.

After the success of the colour wheel class, i went back to the tomato assignment (which i mention on an earlier blog: the assignment was to draw a tomato but focusing on the light and dark parts of the tomato). I brought a few different fruits with me : a tomato, a banana, a lemon, a lime, a purple eggplant, and an orange. I told them that by the end of the term, they will know how to paint each of these. First i presented them with the tomato because they worked with it before. I refreshed their memory about the light and dark spots when drawing a tomato on a paper. I asked them how they would to the same assignment but with paint. How will they paint the light areas? how will they paint the dark areas? They had absolutely no clue. Some said that they use more paint for the dark areas and less paint for the light areas. Some said by adding black or white (close guess), and others had no ideas and just kept asking "well? how?". Naturally, the next assignment was to make dark and light colours.

For those readers who have never painted in their life, this is kind of tricky. Its easy to make a colour light by adding white, but to make a colour dark, it must be mixed with its complementary (or opposite) colour. Red X Green, yellow X purple, blue X orange. I asked them all to look at their colour wheels that they successfully completed in the past lesson. I explained to them how to find the opposite colour and how mixing those colours. For example; for dark red, one must mix a lot of red with a little bit of green. The next two classes were dedicated towards making dark colours. This time, not every student did well. Some did better than others, and some did not do well at all. I admit this might be pretty advanced but just the fact that a lot of the students understood the concept and did well, was enough for me to believe that this was a successful attempt at teaching them the basics of painting.

The last day of classes I gave them an "exam"! Once they heard this word they were so nervous! I treated it like any other exam with grades and rules. No cheating or you will be kicked out. No talking during the exam. If you needed any help from me, raise your hand and I will be happy to help you. I made it clear that I will be there for them and that I will make sure every student understands the material well. In no way was this exam meant to test their artistic talent. It was just meant to be a rough indication of how much progress my students made in these 6 weeks, and if they learnt anything at all!

The exam consisted of 6 rows of 3 boxes. Each row was for a colour, its light equivalent and its dark equivalent. I presented them with four paints: white, blue, red, and yellow. They had to mix the primary colours to make the 3 other secondary colours. Each box was worth 1 point (18 points in total), and 2 points were given for how well they mixed (which comes to a total of 20 points). I'm glad to say that the lowest grade was 15 and 16, and the highest grade was 20. Our of my 20 students, 4 of them got the lowest grades, and 3 of them got the highest grades. The mean grade was 18. Overall, all my students did well and I am happy with these results.

The only issue is, they only learnt the complete basics of painting. If they were to be great artists, they will need to learn a lot more than just mixing colours. Hopefully they will get other volunteers to follow up with them so they learn more skill and maybe, just maybe, real artists will come out with them. As i mentioned before, not all of them will be successful and maybe out of the 40 students i taught, only 3 or 4 will actually pick up painting, or other artistic methods of expression. I just think that every student deserves a chance, and those who excel should be the ones that are given the opportunity to create. If they are not given the opportunity then who knows what talents are buried under the dirt.

If it was upto me for following up with these kids, I will pick out only 10 out of the 20 who did very well. That way, there will be a better concentration on each kid. Review the last term's material, then go on and teaching how to make different forms from still life. Beyond just drawing a circle for a tomato. Next, teaching darks and lights of the forms. Keeping in mind that whenever one wants to paint, one must consider the meaning behind each aspect of the painting. What it says, what it doesn't say. Of course the next term should also focus on famous artists in history as to get an idea what is out there. For the first term, I showed them a bunch of pictures of painting of still life and asked them to interpret the work. Such an activity should be done more often so they can start thinking beyond just drawing butterflies and flowers.

Unfortunately, it will be extremely hard making a longterm plan since volunteers are not always available for teaching art. One can only hope that the little we do will make a difference.

Jerusalem

Wednesday November 7th – Jerusalem
Gilbert and I decided to go to Jerusalem for the weekend. Fortunately for the good ties between Project Hope and CCF, we were able to get free housing for two nights at a CCF host. We decided to spend no more than 200 Shekels ($50 US) on the whole weekend which I thought was impossible.

I used to take cabs everywhere I go, and did things on the more expensive side up until this weekend. Since I had no idea how to go cheap, I was lucky that Gilbert was an expert in that area!

We started off walking down to the city center where there are service buses that go to Howarrah. Howarrah has always been the checkpoint I use to get out of Nablus. It is a miserable trip every time. Not only because you have to walk through the checkpoint, but also because there are different lanes for the different demographics of people. There are 5 lanes for Palestinian men under the age of 50. These lanes end with metal rotating doors which can let one person pass at a time. After passing the 8ft rotating door, they are searched, and so are their bags, before they are let out. There are two other lanes for women, men over 50, and foreigners. Of course these lanes pass much faster with two Israeli soldiers only checking IDs.
This time, there was a jam in those two lanes. As me and Gilbert were trying to make out what the problem was, a man approached us. He asked us in English with a strong Arabic accent “Are you American too?”. I left the talking to Gilbert because I wasn’t sure what was going on. Gilbert, who is anglo-saxon in appearance, said yes on behalf of both of us. The man asked us to follow him.

We left the area where people divided themselves into the different lanes, and climbed over to the side where cars would usually pass through (but with no cars passing through). As we walked towards the checkpoint, a soldier noticed us and screamed “STOP!!!” The man told us to hold up our passports so he sees that we are American. And so we did! We walked slowly, behind the man, holding our passports up. After the soldier yelled “STOP” a few times, he asked us to come up to him one by one. A minute later we were passed the checkpoint.

I was glad we passed, but in the same token I felt guilty for getting it so easy when all the Palestinians were still standing in lines, and being searched one by one by Israeli soldiers.

The man asked us where we were heading. Gilbert told him we are going to Ramallah which coincidently is his direction of travel as well. He offered to give us a ride to Ramallah’s taxi stand where we could take a bus to Jerusalem. Of course, wanting to be cheap, we accepted the offer!
The man was originally Palestinian. The funny thing is, he was not one of those Palestinians that can pass as a foreigner. He was dark skinned, with a thick black moustache and the thickest Arabic accent when he spoke in English. On the ride to Ramallah he spoke to us about the countless techniques he used to get through checkpoints. They all involved mentioning the word “American” in each sentence while talking to the Israeli soldiers, or flirting with them.

We got to a checkpoint called Atara. The road at the checkpoint divided into three lanes; Palestinian, Israeli settlers, and diplomatic (UN, Red Cross, and government cars). He drove into the Palestinian lane but after a few minutes of realising how slow it was moving, he squeezed into the diplomatic lane between UN cars! Gilbert and I were confused. How was he going to pull this off? As we got to the checkpoint booth, he rolled down Gilberts window and screamed out in this think accent “We are American from America, we are all American!!!” He told us to flash our blue passports while he said the word “American” and “America” over and over again. Surprisingly enough, we passed the checkpoint easily. Apparently the word “America” and “American” has a hypnotising effect on Israeli soldiers. Oh well, it worked!

He dropped us off and we took another service to Jerusalem. This time it was a long bus. Gilbert and I were the only foreigners. As we got to the checkpoint at Jerusalem (which is just an opening in the big “separation” wall), the bus stopped and all the passengers were inspected. Some left the bus because they had luggage that the Israelis need to search. When it came to our turn, again, we just had to flash the little blue book. Our bags were not even inspected.
We finally got to Jerusalem. We stopped at a falafel stand and bought some sandwiches. The locals of Nablus were right, falafels in Jerusalem are so much better! I spent two nights and three days in Jerusalem and I had falafel sandwiches from the same stand for breakfast, lunch, mid-day snack, and dinner!

The first night there, we spent walking around the old city. The old city is made out of four sectors: Arabic, Jewish, Christian, and Armenian. Staying cheap, we did not join any tourist groups or tours. We relied on a book we grabbed out of the Project Hope library, which gave us all the information we need about all the sights, and the maps around all site-seeing areas. We took a local bus to return to our host’s house for the night.

Thursday November 8th –
Following the tourist book, we visited all the important sights in the old city. I will rely on my readers to check out my pictures to see the sites. I wrote comments on most pictures so you can follow my footsteps. About 4pm we were on our way to the Olive Mount which is the hill facing Jerusalem. Being cheap, we walked there. We walked all the way down the Jerusalem mount, then all the way up Olive mount. Mind you, we did not take the tourist route. we went through a small street that goes straight up the mountain, between old homes. Gilbert relied on that stupid tourist book to find this hell road. Trust me folks, walking up a mountain is not easy! Especially when we were rushing to catch the sunset over Jerusalem and the Dome of the Rock! After 15 minutes of HELL, we finally reached a spot where we could see all of Jerusalem. We caught the sunset! We took so many pictures of it and I asked Gilbert if we can stay there until night-time so I can take shots of Jerusalem at night. I lied! I only wanted to stay longer because I was so tired and was not ready to get up again and walk all the way back to the bus stop to go home.

Friday November 9th
It was my birthday. I ate mangoes for Breakfast. Gilbert thought that was a sufficient birthday breakfast. We took the bus to the old city and had falafels for breakfast. All we wanted to do today was watch Shabbat at the Wailing Wall. Shabbat begins sunset on Friday and ends on sunset Saturday. We spent most of the day shopping in the old city. Right before sunset we found some Jewish men in silk black robes, fur hats, and white stockings rushing down the lanes of the old city. We followed them. Gilbert had a yarmulke which was given to him when we visited the Wall the day before. He put it on and we got into the express Jewish line into the Western Wall Plaza. Of course it is not called the “express line”, but I just thought it is suitable since their line was much faster than the tourist one!

We stood in the plaza (which was created by bulldozing a whole Palestinian neighbourhood after the Six Day War in 1967), watching the crowds of Jews in their black silk coats. Their ages ranged from 10 year olds to 80 year olds. They were either singing ritualistically, bobbing their heads, rocking backwards and forwards, and/or reading their holy book. Some had ritualistic dances in front of the wall; A couple were shuffling their feet in a rhythm, some were moving back and forth then side to side, some bobbed only their head while others bobbed their whole body till they lose balance!

One this I don’t understand is how Jerusalem works. There are both Palestinians and Israelis living together but in different areas. They live their life as if the other doesn’t even exist. They completely ignore each other, and the Israelis live a completely western life, while the Palestinians live a completely Palestinian Arabic life. There is such a great divide between them that it made it so difficult to understand how they live together, despite each other, and act as the other doesn’t exist at all. Very weird.

Anyways, surprisingly, i did make it out of Jerusalem only spending $50!

Check out Gilberts blog for his thoughts of this weird weekend in Jerusalem: http://gilbertglad.wordpress.com/ (November 12 post)

<-----Also don;t forget to see the pictures!!! Left hand side

Mosaic

This is my Mosaic project for Dar Al Fonoon. Its just the name of the center i work at in Arabic. Its a very slow project because getting the right peices for the letters is a tough job. The next step is to have a bunch of blue tiles all around the rest.

Today, I went to the center to continue working on the tiles before class. For my disappointment, there was a bunch of broken tiles on the wall. It looked like some kids have been throwing rocks on the mosaic and breaking the tiles. I had to replace many tiles. Some of them i left because the shape of the tiles are very hard to find. Oh well.

Arafat Remebrance Ceremony

Yassir Arafat died today, three years ago. There has been music and celebrations everywhere in the Palestinean Territories. It hasn't been a quiet day, the music is so loud and invasive that it was difficult for me to even have an afternoon nap at home!

In Gaza, it hasn't been quiet at all. Hamas has killed 6 people and wounded about 100 people for celebrating Yassir Arafat in the streets. I took the liberty to copy an article that was published an hour ago about the situation in Gaza. Palestinians here in Nablus are very unhappy with the situation in Gaza. They call it an open-air prison. No one is allowed in, and no one is allowed out. The worst part is, there is a mini-civil war (between Hamas and Fatah) with no chance of evacuation. Please read below:

• "Hamas kills six at Arafat rally in Gaza"
  by Sakher Abu El Oun, 1 hour ago
  Hamas police killed six people in Gaza City on Monday as hundreds of thousands gathered to commemorate the death of Yasser Arafat in the biggest Fatah party rally since it was ousted by the Islamists.
  Another 130 people were wounded when the Hamas-run police force opened fire as crowds threw rocks and chanted "Shiite, Shiite" -- accusing them of being a proxy for Shiite Iran and its ally Syria, witnesses and medics said.
  Palestinian television showed groups of protesters and armed men running through the streets and police beating a Fatah supporter with wooden batons.
  The deaths added salt to the wounds of already bitter divisions among Palestinians, with the head of the secular Fatah party's parliamentary bloc ruling out talks with the Islamists.
  "There will be no dialogue and no discussions with the killers and coup-makers of Hamas, no dialogue with those who do not believe in dialogue but only understand the language of blood and murder," Azzam Ahmed said.
  "I am convinced that the Palestinian people will purge them from their ranks and that the blood of today's martyrs will be fuel for the resistance against them," he added in a statement from his office.
  Hamas charged that Fatah gunmen fired at the demonstrators, but an AFP correspondent at the scene and several witnesses said it was the police which opened fire on the crowd.
  Hours earlier the city centre had been filled with a sea of the yellow flags of the party founded by Arafat and currently led by president Mahmud Abbas, whose forces were driven from the Gaza Strip in a bloody takeover in mid-June.
  People had streamed into the city from across the impoverished coastal strip, eager to pay their respects to the father of the Palestinian cause.
  "I walked from my house in (the northern village of) Beit Hanun," said Um Hatem, 65, who attended in a traditional Palestinian dress. "After him our situation has become very hard... We have become orphans without a father."
  The crowds waved Palestinian flags and held portraits of the iconic leader in his trademark black-and-white keffiyeh headdress as Fatah party officials called for unity over loudspeakers.
  "We say to Hamas and these armed militias, stop your crimes. These crimes will not shake our determination," said Zakaria Al-Agha, chief of Fatah in Gaza, reading a statement from Abbas.
  The event drew as many as half a million people, according to senior Fatah official Ahmed Hellis.
  Hamas which has controlled the Gaza Strip since the takeover five months ago broke up several smaller Fatah demonstrations on Sunday, the third anniversary of Arafat's death, shooting and wounding three people.
  The Executive Force, Hamas's self-style police, arrested several people on Sunday and on the day of the rally confiscated tens of thousands of portraits of Arafat and Abbas.
  Palestinians across the occupied territories, more divided now than at any other point in their history, have been paying tribute to the iconic leader who died on November 11, 2004 and who remains a symbol of Palestinian unity.
  But the Palestinian Authority which he set up in 1994 now controls only scattered, autonomous areas of the occupied West Bank with Hamas ruling the Gaza Strip after routing their Fatah party rivals.
  "Arafat's absence is what allowed Hamas to control the Gaza Strip," said Mukhaimar Abu Saada, a professor at Gaza's Al-Azhar University, adding that the rally was "a rejection of the actions of the Executive Force".
  Hamas -- which opposed Arafat's policies during his lifetime and vilifies his successor Abbas -- nevertheless praised the late leader.
  "We often agreed with the president Abu Ammar (Arafat) and we often disagreed with him, but in spite of this we consider him a symbol of the Palestinian nation," Hamas spokesman Fawzi Barhum told AFP on Sunday.
  But the bitter internal divisions that Arafat always managed to hold at bay have erupted across the Palestinian territories since his death from unknown causes in a Paris hospital.

Note; my personal political opinions is not necessarily shared with those expressed in the article. The only reason I am publishing this article is for the content of incidents.

Weekend in Yanoon

• "One of the major obstacles on the road to peace and justice in this region is the settler problem.
  The settler problem is quite obvious in Hebron where they have taken over large parts of the old city and frequently attack the Palestinians but it is present all over the west bank, even in the quietest and most remote areas.
  Yanoun is a great illustration of this. Yanoun is a quite little village in the mountains behind Nablus. Up until a few years ago 500 people lived peacefully with sheep and olive trees. One day the IDF and the police started using the area as training grounds, shooting target practice, flying fighter jets at low altitudes, trying new bombs and equipment. Then the settlements nearby decided it was too nice a place to be left to Palestinians and undetonated ammunition. They got closer and more aggressive and started regularly harassing and assaulting the villagers until all but two families had fled. The village started receiving international and Israeli volunteers who came to discourage the settlers from coming. The departed families agreed to return to their homes only with the promise that there would be a constant international presence in the village.
  After a period of disorganized international presence during which different NGOs and movements sent volunteers but with no coordination the EAPPI took over responsibility for the international presence. EAPPI is the program that sends EAs everywhere... Today there are 100 people living in Yanoun plus a team of three or four EAs at all times." (excerpt taken from Gilbert's blog, who went to Yanoon with me, http://gilbertglad.wordpress.com/)

Yanoon is a tiny village just 10 kilometers South-East of Nablus. It consists of a dozen houses on a mountain, with olive tree farms all around it. All of the villagers are involved in the olive market. Right across the Yanoon village mountain, is another (higher) mountain with a large Israeli settlement. In the 1980’s the village people were abused by the settlers on a daily basis that lead all the village people to leave except for two families. Their only condition to return to their village was to have international presence at all times. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. The presence of international people keeps the settlers away so they can pick olives in peace.
The weekend of October 26th, we were asked to go to Yanoon for that exact reason. Our job was to help the villagers pick olives, walk around their two (and only) streets, and be visible. And so the interesting weekend began.
Even though this village is only 10km away, it took us two full hours to arrive. First, we had to take a service bus to Howwarah checkpoint, then cross the checkpoint by foot, and then take another service bus to the town of Aqraba. From Aqraba we had the choice of either walking to Yanoon, or riding donkeys up. Unfortunately we had no donkeys to ride, so we hiked for a whole hour, carrying our luggage, going up a mountain, to get to the village! My leg muscles were so sore by the time we reached. I was out of breath and sweat was dripping down my shirt, even though it was a very cool evening. As tiring as it was, the walk was not so bad since we caught the sunset. The colours of the sky were breathtaking, and the appearance of a white moon made it all worthwhile. Of course we stopped a few times to take some snapshots.
We arrived to the Interntionals’ house. As expected, there was absolutely no form of entertainment available! No tv, computer, radio, nothing. There weren’t any restaurants around, or coffee shops… absolutely nothing to do past 5.30pm (sunset). Luckily there was an argeeleh, so we smoked and talked the whole night.
Next morning, I woke up from the sound of the sheep passing by. Not to mention the smell of the manure that made it a little difficult to have a good night sleep. Beau and I walked down the mount to the olive fields. Gilbert stayed behind to walk around the village to be seen. As we were walking through the fields of olives, we came across a bunch of farmers who quickly recognised who we were. They took us to the olive trees to help them pick. Of course, as every Nabulsi would do, they made us tea and brought it straight to our tree. We drank the delicious tea (from which the water came from a nearby well) while we were tangled between the branches. A few trees later, we rested with the villager. He told us stories of the occupation and how the olive tree is the villagers best friend; all it does is give, (olives, oil, wood) and doesn’t expect anything in return.
We left the olive tree field to walk around the long roads between Yanoon and the nearby village. Many of the trees were “Roman” which means that they have been around since the Roman Empire 1900+ years ago. According to the villagers, these roman trees are sometimes uprooted to be sold to rich Arabs and Israeli’s to plant in their backyards. I personally don’t think that any amount of money can buy the history that a Roman olive tree carries.
After mingling with some village children, we walked back to our house by sunset. We discussed how awesome it would’ve been if we had our own donkeys when we were kids. Every family owns at least a couple of donkeys where children as young at 7 ride them!
That night was no different from the first. I sat outside to gaze at the stars and the views of the mountains ahead of me. The only thing that was damaging the view was the bright white light from the settlement that pointed straight towards Yanoon. It was so bright that I had to actually turn away because my eyes couldn’t take it anymore. By 10pm, all the streetlights went off. It was dark, silent and the only thing I heard was a dog barking from the other nearby village. I couldn’t believe how silent it was.

(check out the pictures! Link on the left hand side)

My Students

I have three groups of students: One group from Old Askar Camp, the second is from New Askar Camp, and the third is from Nablus City itself.

For their first class I asked them to draw whatever they feel like. I wanted to see what themes they would come up on their own, how they drew, and the techniques and colours they used.
It seems as though these children are not used to being creative or ever asked to improvise. Coming from a very structured society with many rules and regulations, it seemed impossible for them to come up with their own ideas. Roughly 50% of class drew the exact same thing (with the exact detailing and colouring). 25% drew something related to war, Palestinian patriotism, and religion. 20% drew something. The rest drew something that looked like its been practiced over and over again. Not more than 1 or 2 students actually drew something creative.

Their second class was a bit more structured. I showed them a bunch of still-life paintings and asked them to discuss them. I directed the discussion by asking questions about the artists' intentions, why certain objects are included in the paintings, the style, colours used, etc. Surprisingly, the children from Old Askar Camp gave the most creative analyses and interpretations of the artwork. Their interpretations were not universal, but still creative and valid. For example, when I showed them a picture of a vase with flowers and leaves falling off, one student said it looks like the artist wants to represent Autumn. Most other students focused on the theme of death. The students from Nablus City were less creative with their answers. All the students focused only on the obvious interpretations. The New Askar Camp students were drastically different. They were not responding as they should have for their age group. When i asked them to discuss any of those paintings, they were not able to give me any comments beyond the formal aspects of the artwork (size, composition, and colour). Even when i asked them directly, "why do you think this artist drew dead flowers, rather than alive ones?", the only answer I got was, "...maybe because he only had dead flowers to paint!".

After the class discussion, I gave the students instructions on how to draw a tomato by focusing on light and shade. I took each class outside where there is natural sunlight, asked them to focus on the tomato, and draw exactly where they see the darkest and lightest spots. Again, each class gave me drastically different results. The best drawings came from the students from Nablus city and Old Askar Camp. The new Askar Camp children had the most trouble. They understood the concept of light and dark but they were not able to execute it. Some kids actually asked me to draw them the circle, because they didn't know how. That lesson was very unsuccessful with this group because it was beyond their comprehension.

Overall after the second day of classes I realized that every group is different. My theory is that this could be due to their different living conditions, and educational experiences. New Askar camp has the worst living conditions from all three groups, so their comprehension of artistic concepts is virtually non-existent!

The main difference between Old Askar Camp and Nablus City students is their quality of discussion. My hypothesis is that the Nablus city children did study art interpretation in school which is why they were able to answer my questions with good, but typical commentary. The Old Askar Camp children did not receive as much art instruction from school, therefor they were able to "think outside the box".

2am explosions

After a nice calm Saturday (the last day of the weekend), my housemates and I sat around the dinner table indulging in some delicious lamb in mango sauce. One of my housemates who's been living there for a few months was telling us how every once in a while a series of events happen in the middle of the night: First, when the Israeli army comes into the city all the dogs start barking (and that is the first alarm), and then if they are close by enough, we will hear explosions or gunfire because the Israeli Army cannot leave without some kind of commotion.

Coincidentally, that night, the dogs did all start barking non-stop since 12am. I didn't think much of it at first but they did not stop for two straight hours. I thought of what my housemate said. 1.50am was the first sound of a bomb which shook me to the bone! I was falling asleep in my bed, and that sound woke me up wide awake! after the sound of the 3rd explosion, i decided to keep track of how many bombs go off tonight. Every bomb was so loud and some of them were so close that the walls of my room shook. I couldn't tell how far they were and I was too frightened to look out of my window. Plus, I didn't hear any of my housemates getting up or moving around so I assumed it was not a big deal. After about 10 explosions, a series of continuous gunshots started. The explosions happened in inconsistent intervals so every one took my by surprise, but the gunshots were steady and continuous, one after the other. I started to hear the sound of police cars and ambulances by 3am faintly in the background.

After the last, 26th bomb, all went silent. The dogs stopped barking, and the city was nice and calm again.

The first days

Day 1- Oct 16th 2007
It took me almost 12 hours to get from Amman, Jordan to Nablus. I left Amman at 7.30am and arrived at the Jordanian “bridge” to Israel at 8.30am. There are two separate gates to the bridge; one for Arabs and one for ‘foreigners’. I took the foreigner’s gate since I have a Canadian passport. The funny thing is that it made me feel like a traitor by going in the easy way and acting like I don’t speak my language. Acting non-Arab is the only way to get through to my country peacefully without interrogation.

After going through passport checks, we all waited for a bus to go to the Israeli borders. We arrived at 11.30 where the Arabs and non-Arabs mix again. Everyone stood in line for the passport control. It took almost an hour to get to the counter because every person was questioned intensely. It seemed as though they try hard to catch something against them. Some people went through, and some people were asked to be seated (for further questioning). It was my turn. I answered all the questions confidently and simply. I said I was visiting my relatives who live in Jerusalem. I couldn’t say I was going to Nablus because they would’ve probably made me go back. And I certainly could not say I’m volunteering to help Palestinian children as my reason for visiting! Even though I was a Canadian visiting Jerusalem, I had an Arabic name which is probably why they didn’t let me go through immediately. They asked me to be seated and wait as they held on to my passport.

I sat there for 4 hours. I knew it was either because they were looking for something to hold against me, or it’s their little mind game to make new comers paranoid and scared. Both ways I took it easy. I had something to eat and chit-chatted with other people who were waiting with me. Four hours later, an officer showed up and returned my passport. Without one question, I was let out.

Getting to Nablus is another journey. No Israeli (yellow licence plate) cars can enter Nablus or Genin, and no West-bank cars can enter Israeli areas. From the borders, I took a bus to a cab, the cab took me to the borders of Nablus (at Howwarah), and then I had to walk through the border where my cousin can pick me up from the other side! Walking along the borders with my suitcases was definitely something I never thought I would do.

I finally arrived at 7pm.

Day 2 – Oct 17th 2007
Day two is actually my *first* day here in Nablus since I did not get the chance to see anything the day before. I also arrived on the same day two citizens from Nablus were shot by Israeli soldiers. The city was closed for mourning, or hidaad for two days. The mourning ceremony was held at 10am.

I took this chance to explore my surroundings. My bedroom is simple and comfortable. My favourite part is the large window and the doors to the balcony. The PH house is on one of the two mountains in Nablus so the view from every window is breathtaking. I’m happy to be here.

Letter of Intention

According to the Gaza Community Mental Health Programme statistics, almost all the children living in the occupied territories suffer from at least one psychological disorder or reveal neurotic symptoms due to the violence and trauma in that area. Most recent research show that 32.7% of children suffer from severe levels of post-traumatic stress disorders, 49% at moderate levels, and 16% at low levels. Graduating with a double major in Psychology and Fine arts, I finally have the opportunity to go to Palestine and help these children by volunteering with Project Hope.

Project Hope is a charity organization that operates Social Justice Workshops, Language classes, and Creative Arts classes for children and orphans. The creative arts classes include fine arts, drama, and music. Under the guidance of Art Therapy practices, I will help children express themselves through art. This will not only facilitate communication, but will also serve as a therapeutic intervention for the traumatized children in the refugee camp. For more information on Project Hope, go to http://www.projecthope.ps/projects/art.html

My plan is to travel to Nablus mid-October. Thanks to my friends and family who supported me emotionally and financially, I have everything already set up and ready. At this point, all i need is to buy a good camera and the plane ticket!