- Topic Starter
- #41
Hier drie getuigenissen van Joden die tegen de bezetting zijn en de bezette gebieden hebben bezocht: het is lang maar noodzakelijk deze teksten te lezen wil je eens een echt beeld krijge,n nvan wat er daar gebreurt/ Ik zal wat in het vet zetten.
This summer, Jews Against the Occupation members are taking part in the International Solidarity Movement's Freedom Summer. The International Solidarity Movement is a Palestinian-led movement of Palestinian and International activists working to raise awareness of the struggle for Palestinian freedom and an end to Israeli occupation. Working with Palestinians, they utilize nonviolent, direct-action methods of resistance to confront and challenge illegal Israeli occupation forces and policies. Please check back here frequently for updates on the work JATO members are doing and for first hand accounts of the ongoing Israeli occupation. To learn more about the International Solidarity Movement and Freedom Summer please see: International Solidarity Movement - Peace, Nonviolence, Liberation www.directactionpalestine.com]
Index of updates:
Aug 21, 2002 Huwara checkpoint
Aug 20, 2002 Outside an occupied house in Al-Massakan
Aug 17, 2002 A walk through Deheisha
More reports from Jews in Palestine
August 21, 2002
Report from Lisa B.
Huwara checkpoint
I talked about checkpoints in my first report. There is one in particular that I want to describe which will give you a taste of how checkpoints operate all over the West Bank and Gaza. The Huwara military checkpoint is one of the main checkpoints Palestinians must pass through to get in and out of Nablus as well as many of the surrounding villages and refugee camps. Soldiers, along with barricades and large chunks of cement sit at these checkpoints and make travel impossible for Palestinians. They are often held at these checkpoints for hours and even days and then often denied passage anyway. Erica and I went to do checkpoint watch at Huwara. It was about 4 when we arrived. About 100 people sat in the hot sun.
Families sat beside large purchases of food for the months to come. Curfew had been lifted for a few hours and people had fled into Nablus to buy food to sustain them until curfew was to be lifted again, whenever that would be. The soldiers were not letting anyone through. Erica and I started taking down notes, gathering stories from the people around us, and I took some pictures. I talked to many people that had been sitting there since 1:00 waiting to get through. I approached the soldiers and asked why they weren’t letting anyone through. They said there was a “situation.” I watched Israeli cars pass through and onto a road that let to an Israeli settlement as they gave me this answer. I inquired further and told them about the families that I had just spoken to, families that had many children who were hungry and thirsty. They were just trying to get to their homes outside of Nablus. “No,” the head soldier said. People were hungry, tired, and antsy. Once curfew was re-imposed no one would be able to get through. They would be stuck again in Nablus. The soldiers started firing shots into the air. Kids screamed and people ran. The soldiers watched.
I retreated back to the side of the road to observe then for some reason the soldiers decided to allow one family through at a time. People excitedly gathered their things and waited. I watched the humiliating process of Palestinians being monitored, controlled, and denied by these young soldiers. It was such a disgusting process. Families would excitedly gather all their things and quickly go up the checkpoint. They would all hand over their IDs and soldiers would look at them and let them pass or would send them back. In these cases the grown-ups hung their heads and recollected all their things. The children looked up in confusion. Why were they going back to where they had been sitting for the past 4 hours? These families had nowhere to go and couldn’t pass through to get to their homes. When we asked the soldiers why they just got angry and told us to go home. I decided to step back as long as some families were getting through. Then the soldiers closed the checkpoint again. Shots rang in the air. People screamed. It was then quite for a while. Children clung to the waists of their parents.
Erica and I hung back for a while to let things calm down. I watched ambulances being held for over 15 minutes but at least they were being let through. This isn’t always the case. It was approaching 5:30. There were now over a hundred people who needed to get through before curfew was imposed again. I approached the soldiers in attempt to get them to let a woman with her five small children through. They had over 5 large bags that they couldn’t possibly carry. It was food that they had to subsist on until curfew was lifted again. The soldiers wouldn’t budge. Rightly so people around me were getting worried. How long would they be stuck in Nablus if the soldiers didn’t’ let them through in the next 30 minutes. A man to the right of me was more upset than the others. The army has just confiscated his truck. Then the army went crazy. They called in tanks, a police car, held a sound bomb, started shooting, and screaming. I had been holding one of the woman’s large bags. I could barely carry it as we ran into a ditch on the side of the road. The army trapped about 20 people and lined them up for arrest. A police car swished from left to right getting close to the running people and shouting on the loud speakers. Kids were screaming. Many lost members of their families in the chaos. Erica and I managed to stay together. We each grabbed the hand of a little girl that belonged to the woman I was trying to get through. The child screamed. We tried to calm her. The police car went up and down the road swerving near the running crowd. More APCs showed up. The people were still lined up at the front. I was dragging a huge bag of rice in my left hand. A man helped me and carried it the rest of the way as we ran. Erica and I rubbed the small child’s hands and told her it would be ok. I’m such a liar.
I found out much later that this is procedure. This is what the army does when they close the checkpoint. It was 6:00. No people/families could now get through. Taxis pulled up to take people back to Nablus. The woman luckily found her five children and most of her bags of food which strangers had helped carry during the chaos. I said I was so sorry and she took my hand and said thank you. That was the guiltiest thank you I’ve ever accepted. The taxi pulled away. To where they were going I had no idea. I looked in my left hand and in it I held a bag of her beans. I wanted to run after the taxi but it was already out of site.
I looked toward the checkpoint and saw the random group of detainees still being held in line. There was still no sign of their release. I felt like shit. I couldn’t go back there though because my presence would only escalate the situation. They were already detained. I would have quite possibly joined them in that line. Steve and Zaid showed up soon thereafter to make sure we were ok. We were fine. I wish I could have said the same for everyone else. Suddenly we saw the APCs and tanks reverse direction and head toward the refugee camps. Attacks? We flagged a taxi and headed back.
Lisa
August 20, 2002
Report from Lisa B.
Outside an occupied house in Al-Massakan
Today was a horrible day in Nablus. The military raided vegetable markets, shot in the streets, and arrested many people. Ryan, Jeremy, Steve, and I found out that some of the detainees were being taken to an occupied house outside of Nablus, so we decided to go to check upon their status. Upon arrival we found two men being detained for driving during curfew. One had been arrested at 3 in the morning and the other at 8 in the morning. It was now 4:00 in the afternoon. Their IDs were being held by the military along with the keys to their vehicles. The army decided to let one of the men go, with his ID, shortly after our arrival but for no particular reason held the ID of the other. We decided to wait with the second man until the soldiers returned his ID, for it is illegal for a Palestinian to be without identification. As we waited on hilltop overlooking a beautiful Palestine, Ryan got into a political discussion with one of the soldiers.
The soldier was originally was from Boston but had moved with his family to Israel when he was five. He said he lives here now because this is his land. He currently lives in a settlement. We asked the soldier why they were holding this man. It had been over 12 hours and the man just wanted to go home. The soldier came back with the common response of “terrorism.”
“This man isn’t a terrorist. You’ve obviously checked his ID and he's clean. Let him go,” Ryan said.
“This is necessary,” was the soldier’s response. The soldier, of his own will, went on to justify the use of “collective punishment” as a necessary practice.
opmerking van mezelf: een soldaat die zelf kolonist is moet dus hier optreden , stel je voor, en hij verdedigt het principe van collectieve straf!! ongelooflijk!
It was brought to his attention that the Geneva Conventions were drafted after WWII to formally criminalize the actions of the Nazi’s in Occupied Europe, and Articles 49and 33 of the Fourth Geneva Convention state that "The Occupying Power shall not transfer parts of its own civilian population into territories it occupies" and "prohibits the use of collective punishment". He was reminded that he actively violated both of these laws each of which constitute a war crime and could be tried one day in the ICC.
His response was typical, “In this case that rule doesn’t apply,” he responded. That rule doesn’t apply. Yeah………..
Throughout the night APCs pulled in and out. At one point a prisoner, handcuffed and led by a soldier was led into the house. A few hours later a second prisoner was brought in an APC, handcuffed in the back and blindfolded. He was barely able to walk as soldiers took him into the house.
.......
The sun began to set while kites flew in the orange sky. Bombing started off in the distance. The night was crisp and beautiful. Dogs began howling in unison. We occasionally heard laughter from the soldiers from the open window on the top floor. Occasionally we heard a scream. Prisoner or mocking soldier? We didn’t know. We called various human rights organizations, media outlets, and other contacts as we sat there but not much happened. eigen opmerking: wellicht werd de man dus gemarteld!
The man still didn’t have his ID.
Around 12:00 we saw police vehicles begin round-up on a street across a field from where we sat. They pulled up to an apartment building and people flocked to the roof. The soldiers went in and came out with a few people. They were thrown into the truck but never showed up at our house.
At around 12:00 in the morning about 25 soldiers geared up and filed into 3 or 4 APCs (each APC holds I believe up to 8 men). The APCs along with a tank pulled out. This is usually the time when homes are demolished and often the time when attacks occur. We had to sit there and watch them depart knowing that they were heading toward a camp or village. As soon as they were gone we got on our cell phones and called every international we knew in Nablus, Balata, Askar, and surrounding areas to tell them the troops had left their base and to warn the families they were staying with.
We sat with rocks in our stomachs.
The tanks rolled back at around 3:00 in the morning and with them came a piece of paper, in Hebrew, that stated that we had to leave the grounds for this was a “closed military zone” which went into effect that very moment. “Any international in the area was subject arrest.” The soldiers refused to write the translation in English so we could be sure of the validity of what they were telling us. They threatened us with arrest if we didn’t leave. We called their bluff before but knew that this time the chances that they were bluffing were slim. We were messing up their military operation. Our main concern at this point was the well-being of the Palestinian man. We knew that if we left the soldiers were going to take their frustration out on him. We asked him what he wanted us to do. He said we had to do the only thing possible. If we stayed we would be arrested. Either way we were going to be separated from him. We were afraid that if we stayed and caused a scene it would be worse for him. We decided to leave and said our good-byes. We told him we would contact his family and find a way to send fresh internationals there in the morning. We knew we couldn’t show our faces there again. He looked scared as we left him but smiled as he said our good-byes. The five of us walked down the dark path quite honestly scared out of our minds. Through some fortunate stroke of luck Zaid got in contact with an old friend who lived five minutes from the occupied house. He told us to come right over. It was too dangerous for us to be walking around out there. We walked down a dark road and up a hill, hunching over and holding hands to the top where his friend and his wife waited. I’ve never been so happy to see strangers in my entire life.
They welcomed us in and gave us warm tea. The children woke up and the parents gave us their beds. We slept that night feeling sick from the string of events that had just taken place.
The next morning we awoke and talked with the family. They were wonderful. They fed us and the children showed us pictures that they had drawn in school before all the schools closed down. One of his sons, about the age of eight, held out his paper. On it there was a tank, body parts, blood, and a destroyed home which sat on a street much like the one he lived on.
Lisa
August 17, 2002
Report by Lisa B.
A walk through Deheisha
Today in Deheisha refugee camp I visited several homes where families, including young children were starving and lacking adequate water supply. Water in the West Bank is scarce due to unequal distribution between settlers and Palestinians. In the West Bank Israeli settlers make up only 20% of the population but use 80% of the water resources. In Deheisha specifically, you can see large water tanks that people have built upon their roofs, and you can also see bullet holes where Israeli soldiers have shot through them. These families have no water supply. Here and in every refugee camp we’ve visited, trash lines the streets and doorways to homes and closed businesses. The Israeli authorities have denied the removal of trash from these areas. In one section I passed a young boy rummaging through a dumpster picking out miscellaneous objects. He looked at me and I stopped. The look to quote Elie Wiesel in Night is “one that will never leave me.”
We continued walking through the streets and young children came springing out of alleyways and street corners, despite the imposed curfew. They followed us with smiles, greetings, and small extended hands. It’s amazing they still know how to smile. I gained so much strength from the children. One boy came up to me showing off his toys. He opened his hand and in it rested three bullets. Another group of children kicked around a tear gas container as a soccer ball. I felt like crying. We were then led to a school that had been built for the children. The school had been surrounded by a wall which was now in shambles. An Israeli tank had come and destroyed the wall surrounding the school shortly after its construction. Now no children in this area are attending school.
We proceeded on to a demolished home. Demolished homes are all too familiar in Palestinian camps and villages. Despite ‘justifications’ of the Israeli army for these house demolitions, these are most commonly not the homes of Palestinian resistance fighters. They are the homes of everyday civilians simply trying to survive the unrelenting force of a brutal death machine. Near the house’s foundation three boys played in rubble. This is their playground. On top of the rubble swayed an Israeli flag- the army’s footprint. We continued through the camp, through evidence of more Israeli attacks. It was a ghost town, despite the fact that it was only 4:00. Shops were all closed or destroyed; red Jewish stars tagged by soldiers during attacks marked these buildings while insane amounts of trash blew in the wind. Almost every door contained pictures of men who had died.
This summer, Jews Against the Occupation members are taking part in the International Solidarity Movement's Freedom Summer. The International Solidarity Movement is a Palestinian-led movement of Palestinian and International activists working to raise awareness of the struggle for Palestinian freedom and an end to Israeli occupation. Working with Palestinians, they utilize nonviolent, direct-action methods of resistance to confront and challenge illegal Israeli occupation forces and policies. Please check back here frequently for updates on the work JATO members are doing and for first hand accounts of the ongoing Israeli occupation. To learn more about the International Solidarity Movement and Freedom Summer please see: International Solidarity Movement - Peace, Nonviolence, Liberation www.directactionpalestine.com]
Index of updates:
Aug 21, 2002 Huwara checkpoint
Aug 20, 2002 Outside an occupied house in Al-Massakan
Aug 17, 2002 A walk through Deheisha
More reports from Jews in Palestine
August 21, 2002
Report from Lisa B.
Huwara checkpoint
I talked about checkpoints in my first report. There is one in particular that I want to describe which will give you a taste of how checkpoints operate all over the West Bank and Gaza. The Huwara military checkpoint is one of the main checkpoints Palestinians must pass through to get in and out of Nablus as well as many of the surrounding villages and refugee camps. Soldiers, along with barricades and large chunks of cement sit at these checkpoints and make travel impossible for Palestinians. They are often held at these checkpoints for hours and even days and then often denied passage anyway. Erica and I went to do checkpoint watch at Huwara. It was about 4 when we arrived. About 100 people sat in the hot sun.
Families sat beside large purchases of food for the months to come. Curfew had been lifted for a few hours and people had fled into Nablus to buy food to sustain them until curfew was to be lifted again, whenever that would be. The soldiers were not letting anyone through. Erica and I started taking down notes, gathering stories from the people around us, and I took some pictures. I talked to many people that had been sitting there since 1:00 waiting to get through. I approached the soldiers and asked why they weren’t letting anyone through. They said there was a “situation.” I watched Israeli cars pass through and onto a road that let to an Israeli settlement as they gave me this answer. I inquired further and told them about the families that I had just spoken to, families that had many children who were hungry and thirsty. They were just trying to get to their homes outside of Nablus. “No,” the head soldier said. People were hungry, tired, and antsy. Once curfew was re-imposed no one would be able to get through. They would be stuck again in Nablus. The soldiers started firing shots into the air. Kids screamed and people ran. The soldiers watched.
I retreated back to the side of the road to observe then for some reason the soldiers decided to allow one family through at a time. People excitedly gathered their things and waited. I watched the humiliating process of Palestinians being monitored, controlled, and denied by these young soldiers. It was such a disgusting process. Families would excitedly gather all their things and quickly go up the checkpoint. They would all hand over their IDs and soldiers would look at them and let them pass or would send them back. In these cases the grown-ups hung their heads and recollected all their things. The children looked up in confusion. Why were they going back to where they had been sitting for the past 4 hours? These families had nowhere to go and couldn’t pass through to get to their homes. When we asked the soldiers why they just got angry and told us to go home. I decided to step back as long as some families were getting through. Then the soldiers closed the checkpoint again. Shots rang in the air. People screamed. It was then quite for a while. Children clung to the waists of their parents.
Erica and I hung back for a while to let things calm down. I watched ambulances being held for over 15 minutes but at least they were being let through. This isn’t always the case. It was approaching 5:30. There were now over a hundred people who needed to get through before curfew was imposed again. I approached the soldiers in attempt to get them to let a woman with her five small children through. They had over 5 large bags that they couldn’t possibly carry. It was food that they had to subsist on until curfew was lifted again. The soldiers wouldn’t budge. Rightly so people around me were getting worried. How long would they be stuck in Nablus if the soldiers didn’t’ let them through in the next 30 minutes. A man to the right of me was more upset than the others. The army has just confiscated his truck. Then the army went crazy. They called in tanks, a police car, held a sound bomb, started shooting, and screaming. I had been holding one of the woman’s large bags. I could barely carry it as we ran into a ditch on the side of the road. The army trapped about 20 people and lined them up for arrest. A police car swished from left to right getting close to the running people and shouting on the loud speakers. Kids were screaming. Many lost members of their families in the chaos. Erica and I managed to stay together. We each grabbed the hand of a little girl that belonged to the woman I was trying to get through. The child screamed. We tried to calm her. The police car went up and down the road swerving near the running crowd. More APCs showed up. The people were still lined up at the front. I was dragging a huge bag of rice in my left hand. A man helped me and carried it the rest of the way as we ran. Erica and I rubbed the small child’s hands and told her it would be ok. I’m such a liar.
I found out much later that this is procedure. This is what the army does when they close the checkpoint. It was 6:00. No people/families could now get through. Taxis pulled up to take people back to Nablus. The woman luckily found her five children and most of her bags of food which strangers had helped carry during the chaos. I said I was so sorry and she took my hand and said thank you. That was the guiltiest thank you I’ve ever accepted. The taxi pulled away. To where they were going I had no idea. I looked in my left hand and in it I held a bag of her beans. I wanted to run after the taxi but it was already out of site.
I looked toward the checkpoint and saw the random group of detainees still being held in line. There was still no sign of their release. I felt like shit. I couldn’t go back there though because my presence would only escalate the situation. They were already detained. I would have quite possibly joined them in that line. Steve and Zaid showed up soon thereafter to make sure we were ok. We were fine. I wish I could have said the same for everyone else. Suddenly we saw the APCs and tanks reverse direction and head toward the refugee camps. Attacks? We flagged a taxi and headed back.
Lisa
August 20, 2002
Report from Lisa B.
Outside an occupied house in Al-Massakan
Today was a horrible day in Nablus. The military raided vegetable markets, shot in the streets, and arrested many people. Ryan, Jeremy, Steve, and I found out that some of the detainees were being taken to an occupied house outside of Nablus, so we decided to go to check upon their status. Upon arrival we found two men being detained for driving during curfew. One had been arrested at 3 in the morning and the other at 8 in the morning. It was now 4:00 in the afternoon. Their IDs were being held by the military along with the keys to their vehicles. The army decided to let one of the men go, with his ID, shortly after our arrival but for no particular reason held the ID of the other. We decided to wait with the second man until the soldiers returned his ID, for it is illegal for a Palestinian to be without identification. As we waited on hilltop overlooking a beautiful Palestine, Ryan got into a political discussion with one of the soldiers.
The soldier was originally was from Boston but had moved with his family to Israel when he was five. He said he lives here now because this is his land. He currently lives in a settlement. We asked the soldier why they were holding this man. It had been over 12 hours and the man just wanted to go home. The soldier came back with the common response of “terrorism.”
“This man isn’t a terrorist. You’ve obviously checked his ID and he's clean. Let him go,” Ryan said.
“This is necessary,” was the soldier’s response. The soldier, of his own will, went on to justify the use of “collective punishment” as a necessary practice.
opmerking van mezelf: een soldaat die zelf kolonist is moet dus hier optreden , stel je voor, en hij verdedigt het principe van collectieve straf!! ongelooflijk!
It was brought to his attention that the Geneva Conventions were drafted after WWII to formally criminalize the actions of the Nazi’s in Occupied Europe, and Articles 49and 33 of the Fourth Geneva Convention state that "The Occupying Power shall not transfer parts of its own civilian population into territories it occupies" and "prohibits the use of collective punishment". He was reminded that he actively violated both of these laws each of which constitute a war crime and could be tried one day in the ICC.
His response was typical, “In this case that rule doesn’t apply,” he responded. That rule doesn’t apply. Yeah………..
Throughout the night APCs pulled in and out. At one point a prisoner, handcuffed and led by a soldier was led into the house. A few hours later a second prisoner was brought in an APC, handcuffed in the back and blindfolded. He was barely able to walk as soldiers took him into the house.
.......
The sun began to set while kites flew in the orange sky. Bombing started off in the distance. The night was crisp and beautiful. Dogs began howling in unison. We occasionally heard laughter from the soldiers from the open window on the top floor. Occasionally we heard a scream. Prisoner or mocking soldier? We didn’t know. We called various human rights organizations, media outlets, and other contacts as we sat there but not much happened. eigen opmerking: wellicht werd de man dus gemarteld!
The man still didn’t have his ID.
Around 12:00 we saw police vehicles begin round-up on a street across a field from where we sat. They pulled up to an apartment building and people flocked to the roof. The soldiers went in and came out with a few people. They were thrown into the truck but never showed up at our house.
At around 12:00 in the morning about 25 soldiers geared up and filed into 3 or 4 APCs (each APC holds I believe up to 8 men). The APCs along with a tank pulled out. This is usually the time when homes are demolished and often the time when attacks occur. We had to sit there and watch them depart knowing that they were heading toward a camp or village. As soon as they were gone we got on our cell phones and called every international we knew in Nablus, Balata, Askar, and surrounding areas to tell them the troops had left their base and to warn the families they were staying with.
We sat with rocks in our stomachs.
The tanks rolled back at around 3:00 in the morning and with them came a piece of paper, in Hebrew, that stated that we had to leave the grounds for this was a “closed military zone” which went into effect that very moment. “Any international in the area was subject arrest.” The soldiers refused to write the translation in English so we could be sure of the validity of what they were telling us. They threatened us with arrest if we didn’t leave. We called their bluff before but knew that this time the chances that they were bluffing were slim. We were messing up their military operation. Our main concern at this point was the well-being of the Palestinian man. We knew that if we left the soldiers were going to take their frustration out on him. We asked him what he wanted us to do. He said we had to do the only thing possible. If we stayed we would be arrested. Either way we were going to be separated from him. We were afraid that if we stayed and caused a scene it would be worse for him. We decided to leave and said our good-byes. We told him we would contact his family and find a way to send fresh internationals there in the morning. We knew we couldn’t show our faces there again. He looked scared as we left him but smiled as he said our good-byes. The five of us walked down the dark path quite honestly scared out of our minds. Through some fortunate stroke of luck Zaid got in contact with an old friend who lived five minutes from the occupied house. He told us to come right over. It was too dangerous for us to be walking around out there. We walked down a dark road and up a hill, hunching over and holding hands to the top where his friend and his wife waited. I’ve never been so happy to see strangers in my entire life.
They welcomed us in and gave us warm tea. The children woke up and the parents gave us their beds. We slept that night feeling sick from the string of events that had just taken place.
The next morning we awoke and talked with the family. They were wonderful. They fed us and the children showed us pictures that they had drawn in school before all the schools closed down. One of his sons, about the age of eight, held out his paper. On it there was a tank, body parts, blood, and a destroyed home which sat on a street much like the one he lived on.
Lisa
August 17, 2002
Report by Lisa B.
A walk through Deheisha
Today in Deheisha refugee camp I visited several homes where families, including young children were starving and lacking adequate water supply. Water in the West Bank is scarce due to unequal distribution between settlers and Palestinians. In the West Bank Israeli settlers make up only 20% of the population but use 80% of the water resources. In Deheisha specifically, you can see large water tanks that people have built upon their roofs, and you can also see bullet holes where Israeli soldiers have shot through them. These families have no water supply. Here and in every refugee camp we’ve visited, trash lines the streets and doorways to homes and closed businesses. The Israeli authorities have denied the removal of trash from these areas. In one section I passed a young boy rummaging through a dumpster picking out miscellaneous objects. He looked at me and I stopped. The look to quote Elie Wiesel in Night is “one that will never leave me.”
We continued walking through the streets and young children came springing out of alleyways and street corners, despite the imposed curfew. They followed us with smiles, greetings, and small extended hands. It’s amazing they still know how to smile. I gained so much strength from the children. One boy came up to me showing off his toys. He opened his hand and in it rested three bullets. Another group of children kicked around a tear gas container as a soccer ball. I felt like crying. We were then led to a school that had been built for the children. The school had been surrounded by a wall which was now in shambles. An Israeli tank had come and destroyed the wall surrounding the school shortly after its construction. Now no children in this area are attending school.
We proceeded on to a demolished home. Demolished homes are all too familiar in Palestinian camps and villages. Despite ‘justifications’ of the Israeli army for these house demolitions, these are most commonly not the homes of Palestinian resistance fighters. They are the homes of everyday civilians simply trying to survive the unrelenting force of a brutal death machine. Near the house’s foundation three boys played in rubble. This is their playground. On top of the rubble swayed an Israeli flag- the army’s footprint. We continued through the camp, through evidence of more Israeli attacks. It was a ghost town, despite the fact that it was only 4:00. Shops were all closed or destroyed; red Jewish stars tagged by soldiers during attacks marked these buildings while insane amounts of trash blew in the wind. Almost every door contained pictures of men who had died.
Yankeefive, als iedereen in het westen op jou leek, kan ik het me voorstellen. Graag zou ik één (ja één) post van thinkalot lezen waaruit blijkt dat hij Joden en westerlingen haat. Eén. I dare you
