Showing posts with label Palestine through my eyes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Palestine through my eyes. Show all posts
Thursday, 4 April 2013
Tuesday, 2 April 2013
Monday, 1 April 2013
Gaza Gazes - Gaza Gates
When going to Gaza with the cross-organisational working group CPS (Civil Peace Service) we counted the gates we had to pass.
Appointed by the working group, I had passed the three weeks prior to this event organising and coordinating our visit. Passport and visa copies from all participants were required, the general approval of the German Representative Office in GIZ of our endeavour to visit NGOs in Gaza, collecting severe scolding from my superiors for my direct approach, getting GIZ approval for involving our security management in order to coordinate permissions for the whole group from the Israeli authorities, while parallely communicating with our partners in Gaza about the permissions from Hamas and the schedule for the day.
First, you enter a compound (through the first gate passport control included) - those on food went through passport controls similar to the ones at the aiport. Those of us who were comfortably travelling on an armoured car were pointed to a VIP "check in" on the left hand of the building. Met a few diplomats from all corners of the world and passed the 2nd passport check as we travelled on. We had left Jerusalem early - around 6ish (am) as we knew it would be a long way through the Gaza checkpoint. Plus if there is no overnight stay included, one has to leave Gaza by 2pm as the checkpoint closes at 3 pm.
Now, at this point of my narration let me go on a short excursion about my abundant use of the word "checkpoint" as it fails to describe the fortress that has been installed by the Israeli military around the Gaza strip.
One hour at least is needed to pass the nine gates including a minimum of six passport controls. In the middle you show your passport into a camera on one side of a closed gate. After remounting the car, the gate opens are you are directed to the side and asked to leave the car again, present your passports once again and proceed through a lugage check before reentering your car. That is if you follow the directions of the security staff at this stage of your journey to take any lugage you may carry out of the car with you. This point was especially interesting to me as the military/private security companies are not allowed to search the cars passing through - the reason being that only cars with a diplomatic status are allowed to pass through to Gaza. If you are not a diplomat (which none of us was, we were all carrying offical passports not providing diplomatic immunity) your bags can be searched when you take them outside the car. Not having any more than smaller purses we still refrained from emptying out the trunk of our car on the way back: it was full of vegetables and mountains of fresh strawberries (our travel was in mid December, when the strawberry harvest is at its peak).
After passing most of the gates - or so we thought - and driving seemingly endless along a fenced footpath, we hit a small kiosk, lots of UN and other diplomatic vehicles were waiting in front. We thought that we had reached our destination and were waiting for our colleagues who had not found space in the car. After what seemed an appropriate time for them to reach us, we got worried and rang them up. The laughter we received from the other end of the phone line was already indicating that we were far from entering Gaza city, before we were told so. So we drove on and finally reached the Hamas threshold, once again presenting our passports and being referred on to the next and last station to present our permissions to enter. Turned out to be another funny incident as a few names got mixed up and our wonderful NGO hosts in Gaza had to move heaven and earth to get two of us in. The others had already moved on to the first place we were visiting, but that's another story.
So all in all it took us far longer than one hour to pass the overwhelming security installments into the rather modestly sized Gaza strip. It was only a short trip yet there were many lasting impressions; passing the border was certainly moving in a way that I lack the appropriate words for. The last sight I remember when leaving the security compound on the Israeli side was three tanks passing us, headed to where we had just come from.
A few impressions of our experience below.
Appointed by the working group, I had passed the three weeks prior to this event organising and coordinating our visit. Passport and visa copies from all participants were required, the general approval of the German Representative Office in GIZ of our endeavour to visit NGOs in Gaza, collecting severe scolding from my superiors for my direct approach, getting GIZ approval for involving our security management in order to coordinate permissions for the whole group from the Israeli authorities, while parallely communicating with our partners in Gaza about the permissions from Hamas and the schedule for the day.
First, you enter a compound (through the first gate passport control included) - those on food went through passport controls similar to the ones at the aiport. Those of us who were comfortably travelling on an armoured car were pointed to a VIP "check in" on the left hand of the building. Met a few diplomats from all corners of the world and passed the 2nd passport check as we travelled on. We had left Jerusalem early - around 6ish (am) as we knew it would be a long way through the Gaza checkpoint. Plus if there is no overnight stay included, one has to leave Gaza by 2pm as the checkpoint closes at 3 pm.
Now, at this point of my narration let me go on a short excursion about my abundant use of the word "checkpoint" as it fails to describe the fortress that has been installed by the Israeli military around the Gaza strip.
One hour at least is needed to pass the nine gates including a minimum of six passport controls. In the middle you show your passport into a camera on one side of a closed gate. After remounting the car, the gate opens are you are directed to the side and asked to leave the car again, present your passports once again and proceed through a lugage check before reentering your car. That is if you follow the directions of the security staff at this stage of your journey to take any lugage you may carry out of the car with you. This point was especially interesting to me as the military/private security companies are not allowed to search the cars passing through - the reason being that only cars with a diplomatic status are allowed to pass through to Gaza. If you are not a diplomat (which none of us was, we were all carrying offical passports not providing diplomatic immunity) your bags can be searched when you take them outside the car. Not having any more than smaller purses we still refrained from emptying out the trunk of our car on the way back: it was full of vegetables and mountains of fresh strawberries (our travel was in mid December, when the strawberry harvest is at its peak).
After passing most of the gates - or so we thought - and driving seemingly endless along a fenced footpath, we hit a small kiosk, lots of UN and other diplomatic vehicles were waiting in front. We thought that we had reached our destination and were waiting for our colleagues who had not found space in the car. After what seemed an appropriate time for them to reach us, we got worried and rang them up. The laughter we received from the other end of the phone line was already indicating that we were far from entering Gaza city, before we were told so. So we drove on and finally reached the Hamas threshold, once again presenting our passports and being referred on to the next and last station to present our permissions to enter. Turned out to be another funny incident as a few names got mixed up and our wonderful NGO hosts in Gaza had to move heaven and earth to get two of us in. The others had already moved on to the first place we were visiting, but that's another story.
So all in all it took us far longer than one hour to pass the overwhelming security installments into the rather modestly sized Gaza strip. It was only a short trip yet there were many lasting impressions; passing the border was certainly moving in a way that I lack the appropriate words for. The last sight I remember when leaving the security compound on the Israeli side was three tanks passing us, headed to where we had just come from.
A few impressions of our experience below.
Sunday, 31 March 2013
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Arafat Sqare in Ramallah, 23rd September 2011
UN-Day in Palestine!
Copyright for all pictures: Raphael Nabholz
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
Saturday, 9 July 2011
Monday, 4 July 2011
Thursday, 19 May 2011
My visit to the City of David in Silwan on Naqba Day
On Sunday (15.05.2011) I went to see Martha in Silwan - she is staying with Palestinian friends right inside the City of David...It was Naqba day...this is the scenery on the way...
Somehow the crusaders have started a tradition, which completely ruins any romantic notion about knighthood...
And off they go to to restrain the heathens...
And here comes Martha to guide me to her hosts.
A nice place for patriotic concerts to the left,
and a fancy visitors center to the right.
Here you go up to the lookout, which is a popular place for all security agents...and tourists...
...then we pass the neighbours - apparently settlers from South Africa. There is greetings between them and their Palestinian neighbours, no further social contacts but no hostilities either.
Here's our wonderful friend in front of her house, making Freekeh (pic below). Her house is one of three Palestinian houses left in that location. One family has been expelled already. The house is hers, but it can only be passed on to family living in the house. So in case her son (or his kids) won't have children, the house cannot be inherited by other immediate family or anyone, but will fall to the state of Israel. The legal basis for this absurd practice is yet to be investigated. Will publish about it, as soon as I have managed to figure it out.
Freekeh.
The clashes at the Syrian and Lebanese boarders are on TV as we are indulging in our friend's stories, food and delicious coffee.
Next door, down below is the antique site which is assumed to be the remainders of the City of David - proof for that is yet to be found. Anyhow it is ancient ruins. Soldiers vow loyalty to their country here and get lectured about the - presumed - significance of the site for the Jewish people. Part of the preparation before their service in the territories. The program also includes visits to Yad Vashem. History as a key argument for the claim to this land and as one justification why it needs to be defended at any cost.
Next door.
The view - Silwan
The view - security cameras and Silwan
The view - Al Aqsa
One of the sons of the family aged 15, severely injured with knifes by settlers, when escaping from an egged bus, which he took to get home after an afternoon job. He was left to die in front of the King David Hotel in the time of the first intifada. His corps was not directly sent to the parents, but to Tel Aviv, where quite a few of his organs were harvested. The parents went to Tel Aviv to retrieve the body of their dead child for the funeral. The assassin (three settlers chased him, one finally attacked him with a knife), was app. 19 years old, so he was sentenced to 1, 5 years in jail. The Portrait is an original by Sliman Mansour. On thursday, 12th of May 2011, another kids (17) life was ended by force. The boy got shot in clashes with the IDF - apparently he had been throwing stones at police officers or soldiers. Without regarding this to be a constructive action, I am yet to understand why they need their guns against a stone throwing boy, who is unprotected, while they (IDF, police) are well protected with helmets, bullet proof vests, padded arm and leg protectors and heavy boots. Even the horses (this is the one sensible thing to me as the animals are really among the abused rather than being anything else) have helmets and other protective gear (see pic above). As an observer, I find it hard to comprehend.
On the way out.
Leaving.
Time to go home...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)