Logbook of two peasant women in Palestine – Day 5 Ramallah

Day 5 – Ramallah

Morgan

After three very intense days, our small delegation is catching its breath and we are trying to digest the emotions and information received so far. After a hearty breakfast, we take the time to discuss the moments that marked us, the questions that assail us, and the follow-up to this stay in Palestine.

At 11 a.m., we meet at the UAWC office for a debriefing with Sana, Aghsan, Tamam, Fuad and Moayyad. We are considering the proposals that we could make to Via Campesina to strengthen actions to support the Palestinian peasantry.

Our group then goes to the museum dedicated to Mahmoud Darwish, the great Palestinian poet, who has his tomb right next to the Mouqata’a, the building intended for the Palestinian authority. It seems significant to me that the “great man” of this nation is a poet, a man of letters who knew how to put the right words on human suffering, pain that is both universal and anchored in the specific experience of exile. and the loss specific to the Palestinians.

The delegation then visits the statue of Nelson Mandela, who proclaimed in 1997 “Our freedom is incomplete without the freedom of the Palestinians”, then in 1999 “Any talk of peace will remain hollow as long as Israel continues to occupy Arab territory “. He’s a hero here. Fanny has a very close friend in South Africa and knows that Mandela also has dark sides. The discussion returns to the risk of overly idealizing political leaders. Fuad tells us about Yasser Arafat, the intifada of the late 1980s, which forced Israel to negotiate the Oslo peace accords. Of course, a breath of hope then filled many Palestinians. In the big cities that were under the administration of the Palestinian Authority, people felt a wind of freedom: suddenly, they could wave the Palestinian flag without risking prison, cultural centers multiplied, exchanges with other countries flourished, the economy was boosted, some Palestinians became successful in business, and a prosperous middle class emerged. But for rural people who lived in zone C, the Oslo agreements had a bitter taste. They remained under the grip of the Israeli military administration and, contrary to promises of rapid decolonization, the number of settlements grew faster than ever.

We then return to the UAWC offices where the team must participate online in the award ceremony of the American Alliance for Food Sovereignty, of which the “Arab and North Africa” region of Via Campesina is the winner. for 2024. A prize is also awarded to an organization based in the United States, and this year it is awarded to an association which develops urban agriculture in working-class neighborhoods in Chicago. The young black American woman who spoke cannot hide her emotion about the situation in Palestine and Gaza. In the online conference chat, participants introduce themselves by mentioning that they come from the “unceded territories of…”, a way of recognizing the violence of American colonial history and the rights of indigenous peoples. The awards ceremony concludes with traditional Native American music. After the end of the online conference, our delegation and Palestinian friends discuss this strange ceremony. We couldn’t help but giggle at certain moments as the efforts to copy Native American traditions seemed clumsy to us, and at the same time, we have the impression that this reflects a real desire of part of the American population to no longer remain silent about its past of violence and extermination and to try to build other types of relationships with other peoples. We too in Europe have work to untangle ourselves from our history of domination and build the path to internationalism.

In the evening, Tamam surprises us by inviting us to her home, or rather her parents’ home, in the Al-Bireh neighborhood. She’s the youngest member of the team and she doesn’t hold her tongue in her pocket! We arrive in front of a beautiful, opulent house. The interior is similar to that of a Western house, with a large, fully equipped kitchen. We meet her sister and her husband as well as a cousin who lives in the neighboring house. We were promised a “light dinner” and we discovered a real feast on the table. Tamam explains to us that his parents went to the United States to visit his big sister. She says her family has always traveled a lot. His grandfather was a rather daring trader who would sneak onto ships going to the Americas with a little merchandise and pretend to be a sailor. The entire family has dual Palestinian and American passports and all five children spent their early years in the United States. Tamam made the choice to return to live permanently in Palestine when he was 16. Her older sister and her husband have just finished a doctorate in psychology there and have also decided to live in Ramallah. Tamam overplays the role of the youngest of the over-spoiled family. But behind the laughter and jokes, she impresses us with her courage and determination.

Between a few mezzes and glasses of the famous Taybeh beer, Carlos invites us to listen to a song from the Portuguese Carnation Revolution. We all have tears in our eyes. We continue with traditional songs from our different countries, I offer a Breton dance to the sound of the Chimney Sweeps of Menhirs, following which our Palestinian hosts teach us a Palestinian dance. It’s Aghsan, who has long been part of a professional dance troupe, who shows us the steps. We then move on to the Tarantella of Southern Italy. Then Kelo makes us listen to an Andalusian song about agricultural workers. Tamam praises the improvisation skills of her grandmother who, she says, invented rap. We laugh a lot, sometimes cry. The popular cultures of the world echo each other: song, dance, poetry, universal languages ​​of humanity.

Fanny

2 days ago, while walking from the city center at night, we bought fruit from a stand on the street. Right next door, there was an old gentleman who sold treats, sort of Palestinian churros. He was disappointed that no one bought him any. But we promised him to come back.

As promised and due, we are going back and refueling. These are long donuts, full of dripping sugar syrup, called karabej halab. I inevitably put it everywhere, I am unable to bite into it gently, like a child in too much of a hurry!

We are all real foodies, both the peasant comrades of Via Campesina and the friends of the UAWC, we never miss an opportunity to taste everything.

We are greedy and we like to laugh. Despite the situation, or perhaps precisely because of it, we laugh a lot. We oscillate between moments of great sadness, disappointment, anger, incomprehension and real moments of joy, humor and laughter. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed so much.

Perhaps intuitively it is our way of thwarting the abomination of everything we see, that it is our way of expressing our life force together. Because it is a certainty, our ability to laugh, to love, to meet, to build relationships, to share… They will never be able to take it away from us.

The incredible evening at Tamam’s is a great demonstration of this. We cried, danced, laughed and sang together. We also confided in each other. We shared a simple and magnificent complicity. And several times in the evening, I told myself that we were experiencing a truly precious moment.

We left so admiring of these brilliant and strong young women, who decided to stay or return to Palestine, to resist and defend who they are, where they come from and their dream of a free country.