Letter from Bethlehem (39)

Toine van Teeffelen

November 23, 2002

Thursday morning we hear about the horrible massacre that was perpetrated in West-Jerusalem and in which over ten Israelis were killed and dozens were wounded (but who heard about the eight Palestinians who were killed the previous days in Tulkarem because they were throwing stones or accidentally found themselves in the fire range? Mary sharply comments that for many foreigners Palestinians don't really exist, whether dead or alive). In the course of the day the media announce that the suicide bomber came from the Bethlehem region and that the Israeli cabinet is meeting this afternoon for an emergency session. So we can expect curfew. When taking Jara home from the Peace Center, Mary hears from the staff there that they are going to bring all work materials into safety and keep back-up computer files at home. During the previous curfew a lot of materials and all computers were robbed. I do shopping at the grocery where bread is sold out. The shopkeeper is visibly worried: "Have a nice evening with the Arabs, not with the Jews." Even though there is little chance that food supplies are running out in the short term, people immediately stockpile. Rumours about an impending invasion build up. Somebody says that the correspondent Shireen Abu Akleh of the Arab Al-Jazira TV station has installed her studio in Bethlehem so we should quickly bring in food. At the university Mary observes students and teachers leaving early. "How many weddings will be cancelled this weekend?", she asks herself. Suzy tells by phone that one of her older students ran to her for comfort, crying: "I am not afraid!" It turned out that another student had teased her after she confessed that she was afraid for an invasion.

Mary's family had already planned a restaurant dinner because of Janet's birthday. Is it the right time now? We decide to go ahead despite the uncertainty. Why to always pay heed to the rumours? Our neighbour joins and drives us in her car to the Mexican. She says that her colleagues in Jerusalem immediately offered her sleeping places so that she could keep coming to her work in Jerusalem. However, she felt not comfortable with their friendliness. It's very unnatural, she says, to leave your home so quickly. She wants to stay in Bethlehem as long as she can. On our way to the restaurant we observe for the first time since months the street lights working. The municipality is determined to collect the electricity taxes. The lights are soft yellow, which gives a rather romantic impression. It's a big improvement, certainly for me. At one late afternoon while walking in the dark I happened to step in a pit and fall flat on the ground. At another time I hit my head against an outstretched branch of a tree. People mocked me: "In some months' time we will not have you anymore." The waiter is surprised to see us and it takes time before the food arrives. I eat more than normal. Afterwards, Mary decides that it is better to go to the pharmacy so as to have enough milk and pampers for Tamer. Fortunately, there is still one big pack of pampers left in the shop.

Next day, we are woken up early morning by the muezzin which usually means that there is no curfew. But there is also no sound of cars and after a while military jeeps pass by announcing the mamnu'a tajaawil. Mary follows the subtitles on local TV with the latest news. There are arrests made in Dheisha and Al-Khader village, the home of the family of the suicide bomber is blown up, and later on that day and today further reports detail arrests and the demolition of various houses to the east and south-east of Bethlehem. From a distance of 7 kilometers we hear a second house in Al-Khader being blown up. In Bethlehem itself the curfew is in full force but there are not so many tanks and armoured personnel vehicles on the street as during previous occasions. A military jeep passes by to shoot a sound bomb in 'Azza camp where youth roam the streets and burn tyres. At one point we hear loud knocking on the door. Mary is upset; are these soldiers, or Palestinian militants who seek refuge? No, the neighbour's children are playing in our entry road.

I take time to work together with Jara on the educational CD Roms we have. Education should be at home now, since Jara cannot go to her regular Saturday morning school nor to the Peace Center where the military have pulled out the Israeli flag, according to Al-Jazira. (Lately we heard about an initiative in Ramallah to link up Palestinian school students with voluntary foreign teachers who would teach them during curfews through the Internet. Some local universities, especially Birzeit University, have in fact already gained wide experience in distance learning, out of necessity). I sing my Dutch and English children songs for Tamer, who is moving his legs so much that we sometimes call him the Train. In front of the mirror he starts moving his lips as if he wants to say "mama" or "papa." His temperature went up to 38.5; we call a doctor but there is no urgent need for a visit, she says. I joke with Mary that I, as an international, am ready to accompany her and Tamer on the streets.

How long will the occupation last? According to the army, it is an unlimited operation. The people in Bethlehem are optimistic, it will be two or three days, they say. The Americans put a measure of diplomatic pressure on Israel to leave Bethlehem, presumably in view of the upcoming Advent and the Christmas celebrations. The head of the Franciscan Custos has arrived from Jerusalem to participate in St Catherine's feast tomorrow at the Church of Nativity's Latin section. A strange idea, his coming over through the silence and emptiness of Bethlehem.