FREEDOM OF MOVEMENT

One more major difference between Palestine and living in the UK is that Palestinians are not afforded the freedom of movement that we generally take for granted. While “the screw has been loosened” recently, as one person explained it, Palestinians still regularly have to pass through numerous Israeli army checkpoints to travel anywhere, even without leaving the West Bank, and can at any point not be allowed through or be made to wait for hours.

In addition, Palestinians need written permission to travel outside the country, or even just to Jerusalem, and requests are regularly denied by the Israeli authorities with no explanation given. (Travelling to Gaza, or getting out of Gaza, is pretty much not an option.)

This all may sound like a bit of a nuisance, but it’s a much more serious issue than that. Palestinians often go months or even years without being able to see family members, and they are often not allowed to travel even to get urgent medical treatment. Many Palestinians, including children, with curable conditions have died due to not been able to access healthcare that in Scotland would be available to anyone.

Earlier this week, while I was in Tel Aviv, some of the international volunteers went to Sinai, including some people who are now very close friends to me. I was worried that they might have a problem getting back into Israel and had asked them to let me know when they got past the border okay. I hadn’t heard back from them for a while, and started to panic that they hadn’t been allowed in. As it turns out, they got back into the country without any major hassle, but this anxiety about potentially not being able to see people close to me gave me a slight idea of what Palestinians go through on a regular basis.

For more of an insight into this issue, please watch this video (link attached below).

http://www.facebookvideodown.com/if-london-was-occupied-hq-35366.html

COMPARE AND CONTRAST 2

I’ll list a few more differences I’ve found, cultural or otherwise, between Nablus and back home.

13) Football

Nobody seems to follow the local teams with any real passion over here. Instead, most people support either Barcelona or Real Madrid. When adult men want to engage me in conversation but don’t know a lot of English, they will say, “Barca or Real?” Saying “my favourite team is actually Heart if Midlothian, a football team from Edinburgh” isn’t really the best response to give to this question.

14) Being in jail

Back home, having been in jail carries with it a considerable amount of stigma. Not so in Palestine.

15) Higher Education

I’m told that throughout the Arab world there is a much higher percentage of the population with degrees and in Palestine this percentage is higher still. This is probably no surprise as the chances of getting a good job without a degree are pretty much nil. In fact, the chances of getting a good job, or even any job, with a degree are still limited. People often suggest this is the case in the UK too but, compared to Palestine, UK university graduates have much, much better prospects. (Many people have told me that all the good jobs are in Ramallah.)

16) Health & Safety

This does not exist in Palestine. If somebody introduced health and safety legislation, the whole country would grind to a halt.

NABLUS CUISINE

I haven’t actually said that much about Palestinian food so far. I’m not sure how I’ve neglected this as one of the best things about being in Palestine is the food.

Put simply, food is fresher, tastier and almost always healthier over here. Highlights include falafel (the best in the world, so I’m told, although I can only testify that it’s better than the one I had in Bucharest, the only other time I’ve tried it), “kufta” (although I’ve discovered this can be a little hit or miss), kebab (much better than back home) and “shawarma”.

Shawarma is kind of like the doner kebabs we get in Edinburgh, with the big elephant’s foot slab of meat, only it’s either turkey or chicken meat that’s used. It’s served with salad either in a wrap or as a sandwich in a mini-baguette.

Most often I opt for either falafel or shawarma, which you can get pretty much anywhere. (In Nablus, a falafel with bread and salad costs 3 shekels, which is about 50p. In Tel Aviv, it you'd be lucky to get one for under 20 shekels.)

The main type of bread that’s used is a type of pitta bread, only different to what I’m used to in that it’s a wee bit like Italian focaccia too. Given the fact that Britain doesn’t really do bread very well, it’s no surprise that this is better than back home.

Veg over here is often pickled in such as way as to give it a strange-looking colour. It would not be unusual to see pink cauliflower or fluorescent-orange broccoli. When I asked someone why they do this they said, “It’s what my mother did”. Silly question, really.

In terms of home-cooked food, from what I can remember most dishes begin with an “m” and involve rice in some way. I’ve sampled a few home-cooked meals and have been very impressed so, if you’re ever in Palestine and offered a food beginning with “m”, say “aywa” (yes). Chances are it’ll be decent.

I’ve noticed people don’t really do lunch over here. Instead they’ll have a late breakfast, sometimes well into the afternoon, and a main meal in the evening. I quite like this routine.

One other local delicacy in Nablus I should mention is called “kunafa”. This is a strange combination of white cheese (which I think is goat’s cheese) and a ridiculous amount of sugar. It’s fair to say it’s an acquired taste, although I’ve been warned by Hakim, the Director of Project Hope, not to say “ana bakrah kunafa” (I hate kunafa) for fear of offending the good people of Nablus.

Here, takeaway food does not come swimming in grease.

ART AN' THAT

For the past few weeks I’ve been helping out with some arts classes being run for a children’s centre in the Old City.

The centre works with the most troubled primary school children from all the schools around Nablus. All have emotional or behavioural difficulties and most, if not all, have been affected by having a family member being a “martyr”, usually the father. I’ve been working with children and young people in one way or another for the past eight years and, especially during my time in Northern Ireland, have seen the effects of trauma and family instability on children. Even so, I can’t quite get my head around the amount of emotional suffering children in this situation must be going through.

BOY WITH BIG DRAWING

Before I went along for the first time, perhaps unsurprisingly, the group was described to me as “the kids from hell”. Far from putting me off, this made me all the more keen to come along. Nice, polite kids who do what they’re told kind of freak me out a wee bit. Kids who keep you on your toes are much more what I’m used to.

In truth, though, the behaviour in the classes hasn’t been too bad. The groups have been a manageable size, there have been plenty of volunteers there, we only work with them for an hour at a time and the children have been doing arts activities that are pitched at the right level and that keep them engaged. So, rather than being wee terrors, the kids have been super cute. At every class, I have a new favourite.

GIRL WITH BIG DRAWING

One thing that does trouble me slightly, though, is watching the children play. Toy fighting tends to be a lot more violent over here and a lot of their playing involves pretending to shoot each other. While this is understandable, given the circumstances, I still find this a touch disturbing.

At the classes, I’ve been working with Marjolein and Aurin, two volunteers from the Netherlands. Working with them has been a real joy. They are both excellent practitioners, genuinely good people and I’m lucky enough to be able to call them good friends. (I’ve decided I like Dutch girls.) On top of that, I’ve been working with Muhammad Bustami and Shaker, two local volunteers. Again, they’re good people and now good friends.

I’ve also been very impressed with the teachers at the centre. Marjolein has been doing training for them in working with the effects of trauma on children and I accompanied her for the first couple of sessions. They are mainly young women not long out of teacher training and lacking in any significant teaching experience but, despite this, their instincts seem to be spot on and they show a high level of understanding of the needs of the children.

So, these classes have become something I to look forward to twice a week. It’s been great having the chance to work with children. (All of the other groups I have are with teenagers or adults.) Monday is my favourite day of the week. I have four classes pretty much back to back all in different parts of the city. After two creative writing workshops, I rush down to the Old City for the arts class, spend some time doing arty stuff with some really cute kids, then get a falafel on the way home at the best falafel stand in Nablus.

There are worse ways to spend a Monday.