Its now the 28th of July (in three minutes the 29th). That means I've been in Palestine
for 15 days now. I've really just been chilling out in Ramallah most of this time (workin'
and resting after work), though its been a highly emotional experience. I could blame a variety
of reasons but whatever my excuse Ive still been quite up and down. Very childish.
Firstly, the work place is a little bit chaotic and I found myself thinking 'i'm here
to help' and thus running around like a maniac helping everyone and worrying that I'm not
helpful enough.
I will tell you abit about the school. Since summer school has finished,
I have simply been helping with the autistic child in the day time. This is around 4 hours
straight. There should be around three kids but luckily for me two have been sick or leaving early (!!!)
Yousef is three years old and beautifull. The aim of my time with him is to teach him how
to trust people who aren't Mayada. This involves having him in a room screaming for around 1
hour (this time span has become increasingly lower) The screaming is painful and makes me want
to scream and cry myself. However, i have learnt that if you remain as calm as a spring
lake he will respond better. Eventually he falls asleep as we caress him and Powla or I arouse him before his
father arrives to pick him up. We cross our fingers that he'll be in a good mood to play.
He's moody. I'm glad to be working with Powla, shes amazing and has converted me to a
Polyamorist (a big sorry to the Palestinians who are looking to marry).
I have fallen in love with him. But Austism challenges my character greatly as you get
next to no attention from the children: You do not exist in their world. Your merely a
collection of fragments that make up everything; so when they look at you
they look past you. Its hard to get their attention. Keep in mind all three children
have different types of Autism, as do all Austistic people.
Another interesting part is the ignorance families have with Autism: theyre continuously
seeking to find what's 'wrong' with their child and with those words its so obvious
that the problem lies in the parents attitude.
After that, I have been helping around the place with random chores. Cleaning, making
resources for the children, participating in Powla's dance classes (its contemporary dance
and a lot of fun)... I go to the market most days too.
The market is a bit of a smack in the face. I have been associating with educated Palestinians
here, but Ramallah tarta (downtown) is full of slimy men calling out the english they learnt on
trashy TV. Palestinians are heavily taxed by the israeli government while recieving little to no
attention. The people are also "unallowed" to build in their own country, or repair houses. Thus,
the streets can seem shabby and the people desperate. But considering their situation, I'm very
impressed with the lack of this poverty. It lies souely in the downtown market. The other streets
excite me as they weave and branch into sneaky stairways and alleys where you spy plum trees and kittens.
They all, however, lead to houses or backyards (all houses, if not an apartment, have ideal backyards:
full of fruit trees). The houses too are well maintained. They're beautifully designed and opulent
with pot plants and ramadan decorations and of-coarse, outside seating areas sheltered by grape vines.
But the men in the market all yell 'hey where you from' and all the people I meet ask (much more
politely) the same. Mayada always introduces me as Palestinian which I find helpful. Probably because
after that I feel more welcome. Though it still leaves me lacking an excuse as to why I know so little
arabic and why I've never visited before. Though I'm learning very fast. And with each word I learn,
I forget a french word. And I suspect that even returning back to Australia, this dialect wont be very useful.
Though I am a better Palestinian than some. There are many spies all over. Many Palestinians work
with Israel. Many are brainwashed into believing that arabic culture is insuperior. Mostly, they just
want to escape. This is natural, as they are contained in their cities like fish in their bowls and only
if one is lucky enough to have an overseas passport are they permitted to leave. This has restricted my travel
as most Palestians I've met cannot take me to Al coots (Jerusalem), Jenin, Hebron: and these places
are within the West Bank.
Here at the theatre we are very strict distinguishing ourselves from Israel. No israeli workers, funding,
no buying of Israeli products (its hard to find Palestinian products, but you can), and what I've more recently
discovered no socializing with non Palestinians who live in occupied land.
I cried yesterday. See, I had organized to get out of Ramallah and meet a friend of Jamiel's who lives
in Jerusalem, is Jewish etc. She offered to take me to a multi-cultural festival between the segregated
cities of Jerusalem and have me in her home for a night as well as take me to a Palestinian village where
she worked as a volunteer. It turned out this is forbidden and if I were to associate
with such people I would be unwelcome to return here to the theatre. Spies cause major difficulties while
running a pro Palestinian organization.
I think I cried because we had an all nighter the night before so I was tired. Also because of how difficult
it is to simply do things here. Also because I looked stupid. Also because they would throw me out after I have
given so much and am now such good friends with everyone here; theyve become like my family.
Here in the centre we equally aim to distance ourselves from politics. Though sometimes when I can't understand
the arabic yet still feel my energy slowly dying from empathy I guess that its politcal. Despite the lack of
politics, sad stories are inevitable. In almost every family someone has been to jail. Though they themselves
generally speak of very positive topics and tell jokes I don't understand (which for them makes them all the
funnier...I guess that theyre often about me...)
The distancing of polictics merely means that we should aim to be more productive with our time, and relaxed,
although politics restricts us so much here. After travelling Jordan, I feel as though I'm wrapped in gladwrap
and can barely waddle my arms and legs. There is so much people are paranoid about and its driving me crazy.
Surely its just a tactic to weaken the people? To separate two sides? Though while the consequences are extreme when they
do take place at all (jail, death etc), everyone is fairly relaxed whilst being cautious. They still joke around
exeedingly. One girl I've hung out with (my age) lends her husband her brothers passport to sneak out of the West Bank.
She drove me to Jafa for a swim at the beach.
It was so bazaar to see the city. Though most of the historical sights have been destroyed, the same Palestinian houses
as in Rammallah are shine through the cracks of israeli decoration. It reminded me of an animal in a circus,
they were dressed as coffee shops and designer saloons. The streets were shockingly well kept and I realized
suddenly how poor the government services are in all the other places I'd visited.
Equally, I felt as though I was back in Australia. The jumble of races all naming themselves Australian on
indigenous land. The ...pretentiousness? The city's style was parelel with Australia's. Save for the old
architechture. Even my romantic idea of the mediteranean was shocked as I thought I was looking at St Kilda.
Anyway, that seems to be all for now, though I havent told you about all my new friends and actual activity...
Salamat
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