November 7, 2002 — Mudeif Productions

When we arrived at school this morning, the buzz was about Jenin being open. The curfew inside the city was officially lifted from 7 to 11 am. No one was supposed to be coming in or out of the city, but the taxis were willing to try, and our unpaid cellphone bill left us at risk of being cut off.

Marthame grabbed a taxi from the garage, and it made its way from Zababdeh past the old military camp through Qabatia to the Shuhada intersection. From there, we turned on the main road into Jenin, seeing that traffic was still making its way. We passed the rock quarries and the now-vacant Jennat restaurant before turning off this once glorious boulevard - it is now punctuated by destruction, whether from tanks, rockets, or bulldozers. Cars were patiently lined up for the bypass route. Two taxis in front of us was a truck, traveling the same gravel path. From the main road, it turned left, making its way up the steep embankment. However, it couldn't make the sharp right turn, so it backed its way all along the narrow cliff. We followed behind.

The road we traveled was parallel to the main road, and it was easily within sight below us. From our vantage point, we watched two jeeps and two large armored vehicles barrel down the main road, eventually arriving at the tank and armored personnel vehicle blocking the main road. The only other traffic was an ambulance, lights flashing, waiting to be permitted to pass. Meanwhile, we were part of a steady flow of traffic heading into Jenin, well within sight of all the activity below. In short, anyone who wanted to leave or enter could, just as long as they didn't travel the main road. Being frustrated by such arbitrariness is par for the course.

Jenin itself looks terrible. It's like pastoral visits to the terminally ill - each time you go, the condition is worse, and you're prepared not to be shocked by what you see. Marthame arrived at the cellphone company, where he clearly wasn't the only one anxious to pay. The banks were far worse - hundreds of people inside, hundreds outside, all trying to get money before the reimposition of the siege. Our friends with whom we stayed in Jenin have temporarily relocated to Zababdeh, and Marthame saw the father who was frantically trying to gather some of their possessions (especially the kids' winter clothes) to bring back to Zababdeh. The trip out of Jenin was much easier, passing through the hills by Suweitat and Haddad, traveling the old military bypass road until we arrived.

*The view from Zababdeh’s stalled housing project.*

In the afternoon, Marthame went to survey Zababdeh's housing project. In 1994, around forty families contracted together. These are popular projects given the economy, the price of land, the central importance housing plays in Palestinian culture, and the drain on Christians from the "Holy Land", so the families chipped in to by fourteen dunums of land on the outskirts of town. Each month they were each putting in money, but now that plan - and, consequently, the work - has stopped. The skeletons of two buildings are the legacy, hoping for better times so they can continue. The plan is to have fourteen buildings for eighty-four families, including a shopping center and a kindergarten. The Latin Church has purchased ten dunums adjacent to the land, and is hoping to build a church there. People are joking and calling it Zababdeh Illit (after Nazareth Illit, the new, largely Jewish neighborhood overlooking Arab Nazareth). One of their number is going to Canada to visit family and will try and solicit funds from foundations there, and Fr. Aktham has asked Marthame to help them with their presentation - English language, in particular, and using photos. It's the most beautiful view of Zababdeh either of us has seen.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, joined the female teachers for a visit to a colleague who has become a new mother. Such visits are customary - upon moving into a new home, having a new child, etc. The triplets dressed in orange eating parsimmon were the hit of the party.