October 3, 2002 — Mudeif Productions

*Lining up for the humanitarian convoy to Nablus.*

Marthame left the Hotel at 5:30 a.m. and went towards Augusta Victoria Hospital on the Mount of Olives. A few days ago, we had gotten a call that there was to be a supply of medicine delivered to Nablus and they were asking for foreign volunteers to accompany the delivery - it guarantees the best possible security that the shipment will be able to negotiate the checkpoints and arrive. The organizations responsible for such relief efforts (in this case, the Mennonite Central Committee, Lutheran World Federation, World Vision International, and Catholic Relief Services) do these trips frequently, organizing with the Israeli military authorities ahead of time, sending them the passport, ID, and vehicle numbers of all involved. After some brief instructions, ten vehicles set out, including one truck of medicine.

*One of three checkpoints on the outskirts of Nablus.*

The convoy traveled along the main West Bank artery, a road which has been closed off to Palestinian traffic for more than a year now. It was the first time either of us had traveled it in quite a while. The convoy arrived at Huwara, a village on the outskirts of Nablus which has been under curfew for basically two years. At the same checkpoint, we were stopped three times and asked for our passports, IDs, etc. The first time, we were told we could not enter - so much for coordination. A simple phone call to the captain took care of that, and we moved to the second stoppage. Same story. As we waited, we saw several young women trying to enter the city. They were Palestinians, but were speaking English with the soldier. He eventually allowed all of them to pass, except for one. She began to cry, hiding her tears in embarrassment, and began figuring out how she would get back to Ramallah from there. The third time, we were told that everyone except those traveling with Jerusalem IDs could enter - that left out about half of our group, including all of the drivers, so we waited again for coordination to take place. It did and we entered the city.

The streets were empty, except for the presence of Israeli tanks and jeeps and those who had been detained by them for breaking curfew. The place is a wreck - trash is piling up, the basic civil infrastructure - streets, sidewalks, curbs, signs - have been crushed and damaged by tanks. Buildings are riddled with bulletholes. It reminded Marthame of so many places we saw in Lebanon - streets lined with scarred, hollow reminders of a brighter past.

We arrived at the Anglican Hospital, where Marthame parted company with the convoy and met up with Fr. Hosam. Further into the heart of the city, the curfew wasn't as tightly enforced today, so there was some freedom to sneak out and around. Marthame dropped off some long-overdue supplies to the Latin priest and school in Nablus and Rafidia before retiring to the Anglican compound on the edge of the Old City. The exterior wall of the convent along the main street has been destroyed by tanks (or tank fire). The electricity in the area has been damaged, leaving exposed wires hanging. The neighborhood children have a made a game of kicking a soccer ball against the wall until the positive and negative connect, making cool sparks (and cutting off the electricity in the neighborhood temporarily). A few days ago, a neighborhood boy was killed at the door of the compound - he had wandered from home, curious to see a tank as it approached. One bullet was all it took - a ten-year-old "martyr" (of Palestine, or of curiosity?).

*Joining Fr. Hosam for hymn sing and Bible study.*

*Singing hymns together with the looming threat of military curfew.*

Marthame went with Fr. Hosam to an evening hymn sing and Bible Study at the church in the Rafidia neighborhood of the city. It has been three months since the group last met, and this time they gathered only with great temerity - adjourning after half an hour for the sake of the safety of the parishioners.

Meanwhile, back in Zababdeh, the first rain - a small sprinkle - came today. It happened a couple hours after school, and kids grinned widely at the good fortune of rain. We often recall with humor how we grew up with "Rain rain go away - come again another day." No such sentiment here.

Later, from 4:30 until 7:30 in the evening, the Israeli army came back to the nearby military camp and set off four rounds of dynamite, finishing off the last of the camp buildings. The first time, people rushed to their roofs to see what the huge boom was, and they found a mini-mushroom cloud of smoke and dust rising over the camp (unfortunately, the cameras were with Marthame in Nablus). The booms were unnerving, but thankfully harmless, and the dust clouds were oddly elegant as they rose and dispersed in the sky. At any rate, it looks like they won't be back.

Back in Nablus, we sat out on the porch in the evening - no one dares be out on the streets at night, even when people are breaking the curfew, because of the risks involved - sitting and chatting with a neighbor who works for the Palestinian intelligence and listening to his radio crackle with news of the latest movements of the Israeli army. Seems like it'll be a relatively quiet night in this neck of the woods.