shades of grey

balata, the setting of the poem in my previous post, is a refugee camp outside of nablus. the largest camp in the west bank, it holds some 25 - 30,000 residents in just two square kilometers (estimates vary according to different sources). it is definitely crowded and cramped with nowhere to go but up.

i spent my days in nablus and balata with a few international companions -- jennifer and liz, two fellow denverites who are spending five weeks in nablus, teaching a poetry class at an najah university while also conducting work to boost the efforts of RJI (research journalism initiative); michael, a self-made photographer from south carolina who is finishing up a masters degree in anthropology in cairo -- and a man named mohammad, a journalism student, photographer, and a darn good cook; he also happens to be a palestinian refugee and resident of balata.

traveling to nablus stirred a lot of questions and uncertainties within me, while at the same time challenged me to push past preconceptions, stereotypes, and fearful suspicions.

you see, nablus is a hotbed where incursions are so frequent they have become an aspect of normal daily life. the media paints nablus as the breeding grounds for terrorists, giving the impression that every individual, family, and institution is inextricably tied to hamas or some other militant islamic organization. and yes, nablus has its share of fighters and other issues and it was a frontrunner during both intifadas and continues to engage in armed resistance. there is a strange tension in its patriotic loyalty and the bolstering of the memories of fighters who have met death.

this past week tensions were high as the israeli government announced its plans to shut down some 30+ NGOs operating in the west bank, claiming they are fronts for Hamas terrorist activity and fundraising. beginning last monday, july 7, the raids into nablus began, resulting in the ransacking and closing of a girls' school and a boys' club, the confiscation of school busses from a kindergarten and other schools, a raid on city hall, the seizure of computers and documents from the palestinian authority's ministry of religion. they also shut down the mall. each night, the israeli military came into the city, using the empty lot a block from my flat as a staging area and the street below our balcony as a place to park their jeeps and hummers. somehow i managed to sleep through two hours of the rumbling caused by their idling engines echoing off the walls of my temporary apartment on saturday night. liz wasn't as lucky.

while i met only three full-time residents of nablus during my brief two day visit, i managed to stumble upon those who strongly believe in non-violent resistance despite their personal experiences and all that they have witnessed. two of the three have been in prison (one at the age of 15); these same two have been shot (evidenced in one by a pronounced limp as he never fully recovered); one is still quite young and hopefully will not experience these same calamities. all have witnessed death, have lost friends and family, and know a life of occupation. they know young men who have chosen the path of becoming militants and fighters. still, they have chosen a different path.

mohammad uses photography as a way to express himself. his photos have been used to spur dialogue and writing in classrooms in colorado. at one point in the afternoon, jennifer shared an article with mohammad that she had written, which was published along with ten or so of his photos. to say he beamed with pride would not do justice to the immense joy that poured from him when he saw his photos in print and read her words. he repeatedly pulled the document up on his desktop as we sat around discussing the role of internationals in places like balata and the best means of developing NGOs and defining their purpose. at least once he had tears in his eyes.

later that evening, as i sat in mohammad's living room, eating a delicious meal prepared by him especially for us, i couldn't help but wonder how he smiles the way he does, at times blushing in a boyish way and at other times laughing whole-heartedly.

i encourage you to check out one of mohammad's projects -- picture balata -- a program he co-founded, designed to get cameras into the hands of balata youth so that they may find a voice and tell the story of life in the camp from their perspective. three of these students were selected to go to the U.S. last year to exhibit their work and speak to audiences about their experience as palestinians.

i had the good fortune of meeting taha, one of the three students who made the trip to the states. he dropped by mohammed's flat and helped prepare dinner and then stayed to join us for the meal. at the end of the evening, he hailed a taxi for us (as he left to do so, jokes were made that he was the best one among us to do this, seeing as taxi drivers were the subject of his photo essay). taha walked us out of the camp and made sure we were safely on our way. you can read his statement and see his photos on the picture balata web site.