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".
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, October 19, 2007
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.
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.
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