A night to remember

I am coming to the conclusion that Israel's indomitable might is most effectively wielded in the control of its public image to the rest of the world. Crimes which would cause international outrage and condemnation when committed by 'terrorist and undemocratic' states go mostly unreported when committed against the people of Palestine.

Yesterday we went to visit Mohammed, a fifteen year old boy from AD who had been taken from his family home by soldiers at three o clock in the morning, blindfolded and tied up by his hands. His father, after pleading for sometime, allowed him to put some clothes on before dragging him out of the house. The soldiers took him to a nearby settlement. Mohammed described how the soldiers refused to let him go to the toilet, and instead kicked him repeatedly in the stomach and between the legs. The soldiers then made him sign a 'confession' (in Hebrew) that he had been 'amongst' or witness to, a group of boys who had thrown molotovs and stones at an army jeep. Mohammed was beaten so badly that he required hospital treatment. Upon his leaving the hospital, the soldiers confiscated the paper which the doctors had given him confirming he had received the treatment.

So Mohammed, a child, who knows nothing about the alleged incident, has now signed a document, legal in Israel's military courts, in a language he cannot read or understand, to say that he is guilty of a 'crime' he did not commit ( which, incidentally, is punishable with up to three years in prison). The soldiers have warned Mohammed that if his family publicises his case or makes any kind of complaint, they will have to pay Mohammed's hospital bill and he will hauled off to prison.

Whilst at the house I also met Mohammed's grandmother, a small, papery- thin old woman, well into her eighties. She rolled up her sleeve and proffered me her forearm. It was covered in purple blue bruises. This woman had fallen down quite badly a few days prior to our visit. One of her relatives who has a blue 'Jerusalem" ID, took her in his car to try and get to the nearest hospital. However the old lady was not allowed to pass through the checkpoint due to, of course, Security Reasons.

Also at the visit was Abed, who is CADFA's hardworking local coordinator as well as an encylopaedia of Palestinian history and policitics. Of course, as I am still battling daily with the Arabic language I relied mainly on Mohammed's demonstrative gestures of where he was kicked and how he was tied up and blindfolded, which to be honest was quite enough to get the gist.
Abed had called up a member an Israeli Human Rights organisation, BTselem, who documented this awful story and will, we hope, take the case up on the family's behalf.

Think this is an isolated case? Think again because it happens daily. Around 90% of Palestinian men have been arrested, detained, or spent one or more periods in one of Israel's 30 jails in the West Bank.

Many of my English lessons have involved trying to help students translate methods of interrogation and psychological torture which routinely occur in the prisons. I was interested to learn that one of the darker of these was actually 'testing out' unapproved drugs on prisoners, sort of like humam guinea-pigs. Whilst at home one day, we went outside after hearing someone shouting in the olive field at the end of my garden. It turned out to be a local man who had been inside Israeli jails, and as well as being subject to psychological torture, had been given some kind of injection which has left him with permanent psychological problems. Of course there is no way to find out what he was given as whatever it was is not legally available.

Did I tell you the one about the pregnant woman whose seven month old unborn baby was shot in the head whilst her mother was in her home during an Israeli 'operation' in a refugee camp in Jenin?

Anyway that's probably enough for now isn't it. I have of course, been having fun as well. This morning I had my last lesson at a local boy's school, where the students are so enthusiatic that they have, to my amusement, previously fallen off their chairs in their haste to be the first to answer questions. After the lesson I am proffered chocolate bars and sugary drinks by the teacher and whilst eating the conversation often turns to what British People are like, why we don't really go to church, how we live together without being married, amongst other curious facts of our society which seems so far away from life here.

But of course, as people, our fundamentals are always the same. An evening in Jericho last night began with me showing (Doctor) Abdullah and his son how to doggy paddle in the shallow end of one of Jericho's deserted swimming pools; continued with us walking, unable to find a taxi, in the dark on a main road and dancing like clowns to Black Eyed Peas on my walkman and crappy speakers; and ended at restaurant with me trying to fit a whole onion in my mouth whilst drinking Palestinian beer. Yes they even make beer here! Alhamdillalah.