Jenin

We arrived in Jenin trying to climb a steep hill. The Cabbie had thought he would take us up through the hills to give us a good view of the city. It didn't work. As we got fifty feet up this hilly side street, the servees just couldn't do it and we coasted back down to the ground.

In the city center the first thing that struck me was not the noise and commotion - in fact in that way it reminded me of Ramallah. It was the martyr posters.

I have an academic interest in both "martyr" posters and graffiti. Part of my thesis includes some analysis of these artifacts of the Resistance. When I first arrived in Ramallah I took a couple of pictures of the three or four different martyr posters that had been put up around Manara Circle - the downtown hub of the city. As I became more acquainted with Palestine I realized that there were fewer posters than I had expected there to be, it turns out I was just in the wrong city. As my Professor - from the famously defiant and poor Refugee Camp Khan Yunis in Gaza - says: "Ramallah is Kit Kat"...

Ramallah is easy

Arriving in Jenin I figured he was right. We got a lot of stares - something that we have become used to by now. The staring is not an unwelcoming habit, but borne purely of curiosity. Jenin and the West Bank in general, unfortunately, don't attract many visitors. But something was a little different here. We knew it had something to do with 2002 - and the years since 1948 in general. Many of the refugees in Jenin are from Northern Israel, only a few kilometers away and within view of the Camp.

The stares were accompanied by the few bolder teenagers that ask us where we are from and what we are doing here, as they follow us around our relatively brief excursion through downtown. My new standard answer is: "baskun fi Ramallah" - I live in Ramallah. I tried this in Jerusalem last weekend and it worked perfectly. It was met with a confused look at first (I'm not trying to pass for a local - that's clearly impossible) but the combination of my admission and the fact its delivered in colloquial Palestinian Arabic makes my claim somewhat credible (which, I guess it is). But in the bazaars of Jerusalem, no longer would I be considered totally a tourist - an Ajnabee (a foreigner) certainly, but maybe not someone who would be taken as an easy mark for jacked up prices. In Jenin it evoked more questions - but the tone would be less suspicious an more curious.

And unless I dropped Ramallah we could get a few "Yahud?" - Jews? - or "Shalom!". Neither were attractive propositions in the context of what Israel has done to the people of Jenin.

So we walked around the downtown core. Then we veered towards the direction of the camp. As we passed out of the city, the posters continued. Many were group photos. At one point I said to Jundee, the former Marine, "You know your town has a lot of martyrs when you have to do group shots". Those four posters in Ramallah had been for four different men. Here, on some of the dozens of posters, there were five or six different young men.

Ramallah Kit Kat.

Jenin is not Kit Kat. We walked through the blaring heat for twenty minutes along a dirt road - none of us completely comfortable with what we were planning on doing. Passing accidentally through the depleted campus of the Jenin branch of al-Quds university we were confronted by a couple of students. Our discussions - facilitated by Maloomat's "Palestine" tattoo on his shoulder - were met with generosity as the three or four young men in their early twenties - maybe late teens - took us on a tour of the Camp.


What do I say about the Camp?

We walked past lots where homes once stood. Hundreds of martyr posters. Buildings riddled with bulletholes. New homes constructed with Saudi money. Up a hill we trudged for an amazing view towards the north and we were met by a ten year old with a refreshing bottle of cold tap water. After the hike it was wonderful and we passed it around amid emphatic thanks - it was hot beyond belief. And we collectively understood that without our tour guides we would have likely been unable to walk around the Camp. We stood there and took pictures of the view.

Surrounded by destruction, scars of violence, and human generosity, through the haze, along the horizon was Lebanon.

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Pictures:

1. Four Martyrs - Paintings hanging in downtown Jenin.

2. A view of northern Isreal and the town of Afula from the hill in Jenin's Refugee Camp.