I almost forgot

Ramallah, I hear, is the least occupied of all the occupied territories. So if all you do is shop around town and don't talk to anyone, it might be possible to forget what's going on. Last night, however, the series of reminders began. Coming back from visiting my Arabic professor with the rest of my classmates, we got stuck at Zataara for about 1/2 an hour. A fight broke out in the traffic complete with some scary punches, a big stick, and tens of people jumping out of their cars trying to break it up. Meanwhile, our driver (a relative of our teacher) is anwering his cellphone "ya habibi.... mabsut" all while people are close to being thrown on the hood of the Ford Transit. After the crowd disperses, he turns to me and asks me if I understood what just happened. He explains, they're fighting because of the Occupation. One car cut off the other in an attempt to be that much closer to the clogged up checkpoint... the soldiers at the checkpoint are the cause of the mess yet these poor guys are fighting each other.

Then today, I went to Jalazone and met some friends-of-a-friend and learned that everyone has multiple relatives in prison. I spoke (sort of) to a woman whose son is in one now and a man who served 7 years of a 20-something year sentence during the first Intifada. I also learned that two days ago, the Israelis entered the camp at 1:30 in the morning and took six more guys. And lastly, I met another woman who fled her village of Beit Nabala in 1948. And all this is being talked about over tea and cake....