The Writing on the Wall

Stories and personal accounts are gold in life's learning processes :)... here are some that were posted on the wall in Beit Lahm ("house of bread/house of flesh" - Bethlehem)... So amazing...

"Wall Museum"

This is a series of posters with true stories written by Palestinian women.  The stories of suffering and oppression as well as 'sumud' (steadfastness or resilience), inner strength and cultural identity are here to bring out the truth of Palestinian life, which this wall tries to hide and kill.

This project is made possible through sponsorship of individual posters.

You too can help expand this 'museum' by sponsoring a poster.  For more information, please contact the nearby Sumud Story House: info@aeicenter.org

The Baby and the Soldiers

"Israeli soldiers were beating up a man in a crowded street.  From all sides people rushed to the scene.  Suddenly a woman with a baby came forward to the man and shouted 'Why is it always you who makes problems and goes to demonstrations! I am fed up! Take this baby of yours! I don't want to see you ever again.' She laid the baby in the hands of the man, and ran away.  The soldiers left the scene in confusion.  When quiet came, the man returned the baby to the woman.  They had never seen each other before." - A story from Nablus during the first Intifada (the late 1980s)




The Wall is on My Heart
"After the Wall around Rachel's Tomb was built, I felt terrible.  Nobody was walking here, only the cats and dogs.  The wall creates a feeling... the feeling that it surrounds you; that you are not permitted to move.  Every time, every day you see the Wall. When I look outside through the window to see the sunrise or the sunset the Wall is in front of me. When I go to the Wall I feel that something closes in on my heart, as if the Wall is on my heart... When I see the Wall I also feel ashamed of myself, because it is created by human beings." - Melvina, Bethlehem 

On the Ground
"I am an Ukrainian woman married to a Palestinian man. During one of the last incursions of the second Intifada, Israeli soldiers gathered all members of my family in the house and ordered them to lie on the floor.  At the time I was pregnant, but they forced me to lie on the floor too, along with my children.  We had to stay on the floor for four hours while the soldiers were watching TV in our house.  At one point, one of the soldiers started to laugh and throw sweets at us while we laid there." - Irina, living in Bethlehem.

Stuck
"You drive next to the Wall (near Qalandia) but there are also buildings bordering the other side of the road.  They built the Wall in the middle of the street and you're stuck between it and the buildings in a narrow channel, like cattle.  You know what happens with cattle:  The cattle are lined up and the machine takes them one by one while they can't move, like in a cage.  The same happens to us.  You cannot run away.  You cannot backpack.  You cannot go left or right.  You are stuck between the Wall and the other buildings.  You're in a line and whatever happens, you cannot act on your own or control your own destiny.  This happens all the time." - Maha, Ramallah


Rescue
"During one of the Intifada days, I, a young Palestinian woman, was four months pregnant and lost my baby because of Israeli tear gas.  I was terribly depressed since it was the second miscarriage I suffered. A week later I visited a medical doctor in Jerusalem for a check up.  Coming out of the doctor's clinic, I saw, nearby, on top of an escalator an Israeli child who was recklessly playing and about to call down.  Thoughts rushed through my mind.  Should I leave him and let him die the way the Israeli soldiers let me boy die a week ago, or should I make a desperate attempt to grab him?  All of a sudden, I felt an impulse that made me hurry forwards.  Throwing myself in front of the boy I prevented his fall." - Sylvana, Bethlehem


Donkey into Prison

"Today I live with my family in Walaja village.  It isn't really our village.  We named it after our original village that we had to leave behind in 1948, during the Nakba).  We can still see our village on the hillside across from us, but we aren't allowed to go there.  My son Taha was taken to prison when he was thirteen.  When he was in prison, he built a miniature replica of the Al Aqsa Mosque.  He dreams of praying there one day, though the Israelis won't give Palestinian men a permit to pray there till they are over fifty.  My son Mustafa is a farmer.  This winter he was carrying firewood home to us.  The Israeli soldiers stopped him and made him stand out in the rain till nightfall.  They took his donkey and told him they were taking his donkey to prison." - Hind, Al-Walajeh village


Worries
"Once during the second intifada, I was at my home in Bethlehem while my husband worked at a restaurant in Beit Sahour.  All of a sudden, relatives and friends started to phone me to ask about my husband.  I called his phone, but he did not answer.  Then, I heard the sounds of shooting.  I put on the TV to see what was going on.  There was breaking news that a man had been killed at my husband's restaurant.  I became very worried but there was nothing I could do. Late in the evening, to my great relief, my husband came back home safely.  He explained to me that he and other workers had to hide behind the walls of the restaurant during the Israeli shelling." - Ghada, Bethlehem

Tax Revolt

"During the first Intifada the people of Beit Sahour had quite a lot of verbal confrontations with Israeli soldiers.  The people organized a tax revolt under the banner of the American civil war:  'No taxation without representation.' They refused to pay taxes and after some weeks, the Israeli army came to each of their houses, one by one, to confiscate household items.  After their houses had been emptied some of the Beit Sahouri women told the soldiers 'Please stay, you forgot something.  You cannot leave without my curtains.'" - Rana, Beit Sahour

Stand-off

"I went to the checkpoint with my children after getting my Easter permit at the parish.  As always, our rings and jewelry had to be put in the basket to go through the metal detector.  My nine-year old daughter took off her bracelet.  She went in and out of the metal detector several times, each time taking off something new but the machine kept beeping.  Then the female soldier asked her to take off her pants, right there, in public. Would you allow your daughter to take her pants off just like that, with everybody around?  I told the soldier, 'Why can't you take her somewhere private to search her?' She asked me to go back to Bethlehem.  I told her, 'You have nothing to do here, go back yourself to Tel Aviv.'" - Mary M. from Bethlehem

Through the Drainage Pipe
"My husband used to go to Jerusalem for his work but because of checkpoints and permit problems, he was forced to travel through the Wadi Nar by-pass toad tot he east of Jerusalem.  
Frequently there were mobile checkpoints on this road.  One day, my husband and his friend escaped the Israeli soldiers, who were on the look out, by crawling through an underground drainage system.. In the end, they reached their workplaces safely."   - Arlene, Bethlehem


Laundry
"It was during the second Intifada, or uprising, when the conflict was hot.  One day in 2002, while it was curfew, I was putting up my laundry on our balcony.  Sudeenly, this soldier opened a small window and out his fun.  I tried to communicate with him to ask what was going on but he refused to speak.  I was obliged to go inside but I observed him from my bedroom window until he went inside his tower.  So then I returned doing my laundry again.  Unfortunately, the soldier again climbed out of the window and I moved quickly inside.  This happened no less than ten times and in the end I really drove him crazy and made him loudly screaming inside his watchtower." - Carol A. from Bethlehem








I am a Dying Woman
"All my life was in Jerusalem!  I was there daily: I worked there at a school as a volunteer and all my friends live there.  I used to belong to the Anglican Church in Jerusalem and was a volunteer there.  I arranged the flowers and was active with the other women.  i rented a flat but I was not allowed to stay because I do not have a Jerusalem ID card.  Now I cannot go to Jerusalem; the Wall separates me from my church, from my life.  We are imprisoned here in Bethlehem. All my relationships with Jerusalem are dead.  I am a dying woman." - Antoinette, Bethlehem


House Demolition
"One day I went to the village of Al-Walajak west of Bethlehem accompanied by students from France.  We went there to visit families whose houses had been demolished by Israeli soldiers.  As we approached the small house, I saw large heap of stones nearby that had once been a family home.  The mother and the father welcomed us and the students started asking questions.  The house looked so familiar... and then I discovered that the mother was one of my students whom I taught at Bethlehem Secondary School for Girls.  Oh poor Siham! She told us that her house had been demolished twice in one year.  But it was built again by ICAHD." - Jala', Beit Sahour


Tank at the House
"During the days of Israeli army incursions into Bethlehem in 2002, an Israeli tank was stationed on Hindaza Hill in front of our house.  All of a sudden, while I was preparing breakfast, the tank started shooting in all directions.  I saw people running into their houses.  A woman fainted and I rushed to her, offered her water and waited at her side until the tense situation was over.  After a while, people started to come out of their houses again.  Then I heard that a young man had been killed while rushing for safety." - Mary, Bethlehem


The Bell
"During the first Intifada, Israeli soldiers came to our neighbourhood looking for teenage activists.  They asked them but did not find them.  They kept ringing the bell of our house but we didn't open the door.  At last my mother had a clever idea to stop them ringing the bell.  She put off the electricity!  The soldiers became angry and started shouting.  When my mother finally opened the door the soldiers were very aggressive, 'Why did you put off the electricity?' She answered quietly, 'It was an electricity cut.' One of the soldiers went to the electricity meter and kept the bell ringing in response to what my mother had done." - Randa, Bethlehem


Reaching Out
"The Wall is like a sign to say: 'Go away from here.' It is intimidating.  If you go from the checkpoint toward Gilo you can see all the land that was taken for its construction, and the land what we can no longer access.  Some of the land had belonged to my grandparents.  
Despite everything, we must continue to resist.  To continue with our daily life is a form of resistance.  One example of resistance is coming everyday to the Sumud Story House.  The Israelis want to stop our lives by pushing us out. We can resist with any sign of life, and any activity helps, because activities make people want to stay here.  You can organize a concert or another cultural activity.  These are ways that we can reach the world and the world can reach us." - Ghada, Bethlehem


We Lost Below Zero

Clair's business and house, which is
surrounded on 3 sides (originally
 was supposed to be surrounded
 by 4 sides with own personal
 checkpoint).  This family is so
 beautiful, and strong, and their
 amazing story is one I will pass
 along when I can :)... soon

"The wall affected our economic situation in a terrible manner.  As we say in Arabic, 'We lost below zero.' My brother and his wife had a drugstore and a store in Bethlehem for different kinds of products. 
They had 23 people working for them; 23 families lived from their business.
But because the stores are close to the Wall, and people do not like to come there, there are no employees anymore" - Melvina, Bethlehem






Return
"When I was in Lebanon, I went to the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps.
We were carrying flowers to take to the collective graveyard that commemorates the massacres of Sabra and Shatila in 1982.  
On the way I met a woman who was in her late sixties.  She asked me:  'Where are you from?' 'I come from Bethlehem, Palestine' I replied.
She hugged me and kissed me.  
She even wanted to kiss my hand and she started to cry.  She didn't want to leave me, and she said, 'Please take me with you.'" - Jizelle, a teacher from Beit Jala


My Knees Shaking
"The soldiers would come and beat at the door with their guns.  I had to go down.  It was always me.  If my husband had gone, they might have shot him.  It was too tense.  I went down the stairs with my knees shaking and I let them in.  Upstairs my children would be crying, 'Now is the time for shooting.'" - Carol A. from Bethlehem




Heritage
"Once I was at an Arts and Heritage Exhibit in Tel Aviv.  An Israeli lade approached me while I was touring the exhibition and told me, 'This is our heritage.'
I responded quickly, 'No, this is our Palestinian heritage.'
The Israeli woman brought a book with the title 'Qaqar of Jordan,' to show that it was not Palestinian heritage.
I looked into it.  It was written by a Palestinian author living in Jordan." - Therese, Bethlehem

www.aeicentre.org

- C