August 28, 2002

In an unprecedented move, the school schedule seems to be set for the year already. Can it be? Only three days? Training continues, though, so Marthame continued to sub. After school, two American nationals arrived from Jerusalem. Connected with Sabeel, they came today to discuss the possibility of a project for Zababdeh. They had little problem, if any, traveling here. Since the camp has been abandoned, the road that passes it has been opened, making commuting time much shorter from Qabatiya (and, by extension, Jenin - when the city is open) to Zababdeh. Not as good as it was two years ago, but certainly a welcome step in the right direction. Marthame talked by phone with Father Hossam, the Anglican priest for Zababdeh and Nablus, who had recently returned from his wedding in Jordan. Weddings are traditionally in the town of the bride, but they could not plan their wedding in Nablus because his family are Palestinian Israelis in the Galilee, and entry of Israelis (except soldiers and settlers) into the West Bank is often prohibited. They could not have the wedding in his town because she and her family are West Bank Palestinans, and consequently forbidden entry to Israel (with few exceptions). And so, to great expense, they had to bring both of their families to Jordan to have the ceremony. Father Hossam's connections with the Anglican hospital in Nablus meant that he and his new wife could travel back into town via ambulance (one of the few vehicles allowed transit. The town is under constant curfew, and has been with few exceptions for nearly two months - the last time Father Hossam was in Zababdeh was not long after we left in June. One thing that struck us when we were in the States was that people didn't understand what curfew means here. At one of our talks someone pointed out that most of us Americans hear that word and recall parents asserting, "You must be home by ten." Right now, the situation in Jenin is somewhat comparable, in a sense - people are free to move about in the day and must be in at night. On the contrary, Nablus, Hebron, and other towns, curfew means it is forbidden to leave home at all - for days on end, often lifted for a few hours and reinstated for however long the military wants. It means no school, no work, no hospital, no food. The poverty and hunger are getting desperate, particularly in the Old City of Nablus. Our Dutch friend who lives and works there recently left (to the city's edge by ambulance, of course), then walking with her luggage over destroyed roads for several miles. Because of the curfew, the usually busy (pedestrian) travel down to Beidan was non-existent, meaning that she was virtually by herself. Frightening when you consider that the area is a closed military zone. She's headed to Holland for some well-deserved vacation. Sounds nice...wait, we just got back!