Wallaja

The other day I went on a site visit with Jenna and Derek (the two other students with me in Bethlehem) to Wallaja, a village with a little bit of an issue. Many of the homes have been demolished, and other homes are under demolition order. Why are they demolishing homes you may ask? The wall is being built around them and the neighboring settlement is expanding, in efforts to push them out entirely. As we were walking around we could see the trenches in preparation for the wall. Since I am a dimwit, I forgot my camera so you'll have to put up with my words.
Abu Nidal was kind enough to hosted us and the Mayor of the village was there to speak to us as well. They spoke of the situation there, and of the history of the village. Like many other villages that are under wall construction, they have weekly protests against the wall and settlement expansion.
Abu Nidal was my favorite of the day. He was a wonderful host, picking plums from his trees for us, bringing us tea and coffee while the mayor spoke. Once the mayor was done he took the floor. As a land owner and farmer he had a very personal connection with what was going on. Just 25 days ago he had 88 olive trees cut down.
Olive trees really hit my heart. The olive branch is suppose to be a symbol of peace. Olive trees are hardy and can live to be thousands of years old. Thousands.
He spoke of the humiliation of the occupation. When someone spoke of checkpoints, he firmly stated "it's all checkpoints, they (IDF) can stop you where ever and whenever they want." He was even asked to dropped his pants once at a flying checkpoint. This kind man just wants his fruit bearing trees. That's it. He doesn't want to be enclosed by walls, he doesn't want settlers storming onto his property tearing up his plants and threatening him. He just wants to exist in the house his parents raised him in.
Again I appreciated my Arabic here. Somewhere during Abu Nidal's conversation with me I turned into a translator with the group. I was privileged enough to help him share his words with the other people there. We spoke of Arabs and politics and how the people are often forgotten. I tried to share his humor although it didn't always translate so well, but everyone could see his kindness and genuine humor despite what was going on around him.
It was a heavy visit, hearing the personal accounts of violence and home demolitions, but it was a priceless experience. Meeting people always is.