It’s Christmas Day. Part of my cover story crossing the border was that I wanted to spend Christmas in the Holy Land — referencing not Palestine but Israel, of course. Now the day is here and it feels stagnant and tense. No celebrations anywhere, even in Bethlehem, due to the ongoing genocide. 444 days now, I think. Last night I spent with a family in Tuwani and we talked about the videos coming from Gaza that will forever be burned into our minds. Bodies eaten by cats and dogs, heads rolled over multiple times by army tanks, children carrying bags filled with what remains of their parents. Long silences permeated the conversation.
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I woke up with news that Tulkarem was bombed and declared a closed military zone. In the village across the hill, settlers attacked a few people and left a dead lamb and donkey to rot. Today is also the first day of Hanukkah, the eight-day Jewish festival celebrating the recovery of the Second Temple in Al-Quds / Jerusalem in the Second Century. What is typically a peaceful celebration involving lighting of the menorah, eating oily foods in good company, and prayer, for Zionists in the West Bank is twisted into an excuse to enact violence.
In the few minutes I have been siting in front of my computer to write this, one settler security truck, two police jeeps, and one army vehicle have gone up the street of the small Palestinian town I am in, their sole purpose only to strike fear in our hearts and keep us on edge. Just now, a call to my group’s field phone reported settlers surrounding Palestinian shepherds in Umm Al-Khair and three comrades rushed out to respond.
Dusty leaves of the young olive tree beside me sway silently in the wind. The sky is a deep pure blue. Behind me, young boys, maybe eight years old, hammer away at a dented old bike, presumably in an attempt to make it rideable again. I am getting better at letting myself breathe whenever I carve out a moment to sit. There is always something to do, but the only way to make this work sustainable is to balance it with rest, to let myself have time to process, even though I feel guilty for having that option when so many people here do not.
I received a message that the settlers cut the main water line in Umm Al-Khair. Another message says that the P.A. has raided one of the camps in Ramallah and is opening fire. There is no good way to conclude this post. The work does not end. When you read these words, pray for Palestine. Then do something.