Alastair Mitchell

Bethlehem.

The snow has finally arrived.  For a week or so, the people of Palestine have been expecting snow, and right on cue it arrived as expected today.  The sight of opening my curtains to a blanket of snow reminded me of the moment in ‘The Snowman’ when the young boy of the film, James, wakes up and looks out with delight at the newly fallen snow.  My delight was for different reasons however, for after even the smallest amount of snow Palestine grinds to a halt.  All schools, universities and crucially for me, music conservatories were closed.  And if I should wake to the same sight tomorrow, then the same will apply.

My reaction also differed from James’, in that instead of rushing down the stairs still, as I recall, in his dressing gown, I wandered through to the bathroom to find a leak dripping from the roof. The flat roofs of Palestine are not designed for this weather, and it takes just a single night of snowfall to begin causing problems.

Having had breakfast, I went up onto the roof to find the problem and discovered a frozen drain over our bathroom that was easily cleared with a bucket of hot, salty water.  I expect the same thing to happen tonight, I just hope that not too much snow melts before I get the chance to clear the drain again in the morning.  Many people here are exited about the novelty of snow and several students said they would not come to their lessons whether or not the conservatory opened.  It is a rare thing here, so it’s quite right they make the most of it.

I doubt that the residents of Gaza are finding much fun in the snowfall however, if they are getting it.  I saw that in typical style the UN failed to agree even a simple statement relating to the crisis.  All members agreed on the proposed text, except one.  There are no prizes for guessing that it was the USA that was yet again the sole objector to UN action on the Palestine issue.  Explaining their objection, the US deputy ambassador said that the statement failed to address the core issue that is the "illegal coup usurping power from the legitimate Palestinian Authority by the terrorist group Hamas".  Up until now, it has been said that this is all about rocket-fire into Israel, but it seems some of the truer motives are now being uttered.  I wonder if anyone pointed out to him that it is actually Hamas who are in fact the democratically elected government.

Bethlehem.

The ethnic cleansing continues.  It began in November 1947 when following UN Resolution 181 on the partition of Palestine, a mass expulsion of Palestinians was undertaken by the new Zionist regime.  Although it only fully got underway at this point, it had been brewing for decades - especially following the Balfour Declaration of 1917.  As Winston Churchill put it, “there are Jews whom we are pledged to introduce into Palestine, and who take it for granted that the local population will be cleared out to suit their convenience”.  The Zionist Comission put it differently, “as many Arabs as possible should be persuaded to emigrate”.  Unfortunately the type of persuasion they had in mind involved lots of guns, knifes, bombs and rape.

A continuous line of this persuasion can be drawn from then until now, and today we watch as thousands flee the desperation of the Gaza Strip into Egypt, after a siege imposed by this same Zionist Israel, and the number of refugees climbs.  The denial of historic events, particularly such evil ones such as the Holocaust of the Jews in Europe, is rightly regarded as a dangerous business - firstly, because it is simply a moral outrage, but secondly because it endangers further generations of suffering the same fate.

How then, can we expect the crimes of current day Israel, and there are many to choose from, to be accounted for when the colossal crime of the Nakba in 1947and 1948 is passed over?  Nakba Denial should be regarded alongside the denial of other ethnic cleansings, the Holocaust and Armenia 1915 included.

Israel is the spoilt child of the Middle East, and has been allowed to have its own way for too long.  When we criticize spoilt children the condemnation falls on the parents, and that I am sorry to say is on the British.  Unfortunately for everyone else, this spoilt child is now also best friends with the playground bully, so it seems there is no-one left to insist on justice.

Bethlehem.

For the first time since arriving in Palestine at the end of August last year I am beginning to feel affected.  I know this because I just sat through almost all of a quintessentially all-American romantic/slapstick comedy film called Three to Tango, starring Matthew Perry – and this is not normal behavior.  Ironically, this has come about as a result of the situation in an area that seems a world away, yet is just a short drive from where I sit presently.  It seems a world away because as I write from within my centrally heated, double glazed, wireless internet apartment, Gaza is suffering its second night without power.  It may as well be a world away because I, like almost everyone else, am not allowed to go there.  I cannot write about the situation there, as I know of it only through the same news that you see, but as I look out into the cold dark night it is hard to truly believe that such a place exists.

The only added connection I have with Gaza as a result of living so near it is to hear the sound of the euphemistically named Israeli Defence Force fighter jets on their way to bomb it, and occasionally catching glimpses of them as they glint across the large skies over the West Bank.  It reminds me of watching the impressive sight of RAF jets practicing over the West Highlands of Scotland, but knowing the difference in mission makes this current sight an uncomfortable one.  And it becomes even more so when the breaking news an hour later is of further air strikes on this tiny strip of land.  I have even begun the morbid game of trying to imagine the people who are about to be killed each time I hear these sounds.  On seeing the reality flashed across my television screen a few hours later, I am never correct.

The aspect of this whole affair I find the most depressing however, is not just the obvious concern for those involved at present, but that what we see in Gaza today is the future.  I am sad to say that I now believe the future of the West Bank is pretty similar to that of contemporary Gaza.  Call me a pessimist if you like, but I see no reason at all for optimism.

Bethlehem.

Yet another ridiculous statement from Israel regarding Gaza has emerged.  Shlomo Dror, spokesman for the Israeli military's civil administration has said that it is "unacceptable that people in [the Israeli town of] Sderot should live in fear every day while people in the Gaza Strip are living life as usual."  Is his implication that the residents of Sderot are actually worse off than those in Gaza?  Or is this an indication that he considers Israeli fear to be worse than Palestinian death?  His comment also overlooks the fact that Gazans actually have a great deal more to be fearful of than the residents of Sderot.  A glance at some facts tells you this –a total of two people in Sderot were killed in all of 2007 by Palestinian rocket fire from Gaza.  If two people are killed in a day in Gaza, it is now regarded as a good one.

The reality is that in Gaza, things are terrible.  Although it is just a few miles south from here, since moving here nearly five months ago, I have not spoken with anyone here who has been able to go to Gaza recently, or with anyone from Gaza who has been able to come here to the West Bank.  Gaza istotally isolated, and is having it's life-blood (often literally) drained from it while it's oxygen supply of Israeli dependent trade is choked.  We are watching the death of a nation – but the nation is not just Gaza, it is Palestine.

East Jerusalem.

It was decided that although no word had been heard from the Israelis as to whether the permits would be honoured to let the children through to play in Jerusalem, we would set off from each of the three branches and see what happened at the checkpoints, in the hope they would let us pass without checking too closely.  On the buses from Ramallah and Bethlehem, any foreigners that were available were recruited to sit at the front, as this usually helps passage through checkpoints.  I was at the front of the Bethlehem bus, along with our visiting conductor and clarinet coach, and as we waited in the queue of cars to approach the checkpoint we talked over the story for the soldiers.

I was to be the spokesperson for the group, and had planned what to say if the questions began.  What we hadn’t bargained on was the checkpoint soldier being one of the very few who do not, or claim not to, speak English.  This meant that our bus driver was now the man doing the talking, except when direct questions were needed of, or by me.  To cut short a 20-minute-wait-long story, after checking some details we were denied entry and turned around.  Despite my protestations that all the children had permits that were issued by Israel, the soldiers were having none of it.  At this point I suggested the conductor left the bus and walked through the checkpoint to get a taxi to the venue in Jerusalem.  The other option now for the rest of us was to try one of the other checkpoints, but these were even less likely to let us pass, and at least in that case then the conductor would be in the right place to begin rehearsing with those students from Jerusalem, and possibly Ramallah if they managed to get through, which it was beginning to look as if we would not.

We decide to try the checkpoint at Beit Jala, and make the ten minute drive to that side of Bethlehem.  On the way, I begin planning what to say at the first checkpoint again, as I expect to be back there within the hour. This is the checkpoint we are supposed to use and Beit Jala will definitely send us back if they check up on who we are.

As we arrive at the Beit Jala checkpoint, I sit in the very front seat by the driver, with all the children farther back, and out of sight.  The soldier stops the bus, and waves for the driver to open the window.  This doesn’t look promising, and the soldier asks what we’re doing.  I just show him my passport and say ‘British!’  The soldier makes the assumption I hoped he would, that the bus is full of British tourists, and he waves us through.  I have to say, I don’t like this seemingly imperialistic approach, but the sad fact is that it works.

As we pull out of the checkpoint, I can’t believe our luck.  It sinks in that we have managed to cross into Jerusalem on one of the strictest days of security not only in time for the concert, but in time to rehearse as well.  On top of this, despite the first checkpoint sending us back, at the second it could barely have been easier.

The only other logistical uncertainty now is whether the Ramallah bus also made it.  This is answered when we pull into the Palestinian National Theatre and immediately behind us, as if in convoy, it arrives.  The sight of both buses delivering all our students is a relief indeed, and the atmosphere is jubilant as if we’ve already played the concert.  This is understandable, for the most nervous part of the day has passed and the students can now enjoy performing the concert.

The other good news from today is that our violin teacher who was denied entry into Israel last week managed to enter through the airport yesterday, and it’s great to see him there at the concert as well.  It is nice when things work out for the best, and for a few moments at least, I am reminded that this is the way it should always be.  Here are some photos of the children too dangerous to be allowed into Jerusalem to play music.

The concert was full to the rafters, with people standing by the doors and in aisles, and the generous ovation at the end was absolutely deserved by all our students, finishing off a day that felt like a triumph in more ways than one.

Bethlehem.

It is nice to now be spending a few days at home. After my holiday I had gone straight to work on the rehearsals of our junior orchestra, and am now enjoying sleeping in my own bed again, as well as cooking at home.

The rehearsals were good fun, lots of work and very rewarding.  The students made such an improvement in the few days they were together that they moved from playing like a group ofyoung beginners to a young orchestra. After the five days of rehearsals concerts are planned in Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Jericho and Ramallah.  Unfortunately, the Jerusalem concert is now in doubt.

Any students of the conservatory that don’t have residency permits for Jerusalem, which is most of them, are not permitted to travel across the checkpoints into Jerusalem without a one-off permit applied for in advance due to the increased security in relation to the visit of the American President.  Normally, any students with or without such permits are allowed to travel if they are under sixteen years old.  These permits were duly requested and were issued by Israel to let through the children to play in the concert.  In the last day or two however, Israel has announced that all permits are cancelled and therefore unless this decision can be appealed by tomorrow afternoon then the concert might have to be cancelled.

Also in doubt is the presence of one of our violin teachers.  Coming back from his holiday last week he was refused entry into Israel, and was sent home. Luckily they didn’t stamp Denied Entry on his passport so he is trying again today, but if he gets refused again and they stamp him, he might not be able to return for a while.  The last time someone was refused entry it took seven months to get them back.  He was due to land at four pm today and he hadn’t called by six, so at the least he was being given a good questioning.  I hope the students of the relevant branch don’t go without lessons for too long if things don’t work out.

Today was my first day teaching of the new term.  It was nice to get back and hear some of my students’ stories of what they got up to over the holidays, as well as to get back to working on individual details after a week of general coaching.

President Bush is visiting Jerusalem today and Bethlehem and Ramallah tomorrow, and so far I have not noticed any disruption at all.  Hopefully this will continue.  It is expected that he will visit the Church of the Nativity while he is here – I hope he doesn’t get any more messages from above while he’s here.  The last time God told him to do something, it wasn’t necessarily for the best.

Amman, Jordan.

I wrote last time I had the misfortune of passing through Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv of its focus on security.  It seems this is directly proportional to the number of Israeli stamps in your passport, and the length of one’s stay because today I got some special treatment. My ‘Ben Gurion Diary’is as follows;

Boxing Day, 2007.

3:10am – I arrive at Ben Gurion Airport, following a chatty taxi ride from the West Bank with the brother of a student from the conservatory.

3:15am – I get told I am too early for check-in, which opens at 3:30.  This gives me time to delete the final few Arabic names from my mobile phone.

3:30am – I walk into the queue for security prior to check-in.

3:31am – My passport and ticket are checked, I am asked where I am going and why I am returning to Israel after my time in Egypt. I respond that I have left some of my belongings at an Israeli friend’s house and I’m coming back to pick them up before I go home to the UK on the 15^th of January.

3:32am – Judging by the length of my stay and my unusual story the women leaves ‘to check something’.  At this point I know I’m in for some awkward questions.

3:33am – I wait.

3:40am – I am asked by a second woman why I have been in Israel so long – I respond that I have been here seeing a friend who is Italian but has family in Israel.

3:42am – I am taken to the end of the area where bags are checked and asked more questions along the lines of the two above.

4:00am – The questioning continues with questions such as ‘Why are you going to Egypt, why are you not staying in Israel?’ posed alongside ‘Why are you in Israel?’  I explain that ‘I’ve been here for two months, now I’m going to learn to scuba dive in the Red Sea’.  ‘Is it not too cold for diving at this time of year?’ comes the response.

4|:10am – I am asked how I can afford to be on holiday for months on end.  I respond that ‘I am rich from my earnings as a professional musician, but I need time off.’

4:12am – I am asked whether I have my violin in Israel.  I respond ‘No’.  ‘Don’t you need to practice’ they ask, ‘if you’re able to make so much money from playing music?’  I respond ‘No’.

4:13am – I realise this is absurd, and begin to find it amusing.

4:15am - I am asked why I didn't take the bus to Egypt instead of flying.  I ask if they ask as many questions on the bus.

4:20am – Man in sharp suit arrives.

4:21am – Man in sharp suit phones someone and checks the details of my passport.

4:22am – I notice a plain-clothes security man standing off my left shoulder.  I feel dangerous.

4:23am - I am asked why I have left some belongings in Israel – ‘Why didn’t you take them to Egypt, and fly home from there?’ I get the feeling they don’t want me back.

4:24am – I respond that I didn’t know I wanted to visit Egypt when I first arrived in Israel, so my return flight was alreadybooked from Tel Aviv.  While I’m in Egypt I don’t need everything that I initially brought to Israel, so I booked flights that allowed me to leave somethings here and travel light.

4:30am – I am taken to a separate area of the airport. I feel slightly excited, maybe this is added to by no sleep and a little too much coffee.

4:35am – I am taken behind a curtain, similar to a large dressing room in a shop, and am thoroughly frisked and given the once-over with a metal detector.

 4:36am – My trousers are around my ankles. I explain that it is my zip that is alerting their detector.  ‘Surely they knew this’, I think to myself.

4:37am – My trousers are back up.

4:40am – I am taken to view my bag as it is searched by five people simultaneously.

4:45am – On finding nothing and repacking my bag excellently, I thank them and say ‘Great job, that’s much better than I did it - I must come here more often’.

4:50am – I am taken to the check-in, after which I am escorted through security, which makes me feel like a VIP.

So, after nearly an hour and a half and a mixture of feeling tired, tense, nervous, amused, unwanted, dangerous and important, my holiday began.  If it keeps going like this, I’ll need a holiday when I get back.