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HANIA BITAR
Interview: Al-Ram,
9/12/04
Hania Bitar is secretary
general of the Palestinian youth organization
Pyalara (Palestinian Youth Organization for
Leadership and Rights Activation).
When the whole story of the
Wall started I was somehow dealing with it in
disbelief. It was something that was about to
happen, but at the time I was pushing it away,
or I dealt with it from a journalistic or
political point of view. It was being built in
this area or that area, but still it was far
away. It was not part of my life. But when they
started constructing the Wall in Ar-Ram area
where I cross, where I work and live, suddenly
this thing forced itself upon my existence, my
daily life, upon my day and night. Every time I
looked out of the window I saw the Wall. It was
really shocking. Suddenly this wall of concrete
cement became very scary. I try to be and
present myself as a courageous woman, but to
tell you the truth: sometimes when I am driving
and it is evening, this Wall really looks cold,
long and winding, like a snake. When I am
driving alongside it, it is an endless road.
Although I am not claustrophobic, that Wall
looks like as if I am in a bottle. I want to
shatter it into pieces. Then I feel like I can't
wait until I reach the end of this road. All the
time I am driving the Wall is either on my left
hand side or on my right hand side. It really
gives me a feeling of suffocation. I just want
somebody beside me sitting in the car, to make
jokes on the Wall, to laugh, to sing aloud. We
are trying to avoid looking at it directly. We
try to continue with our lives, but it is always
there.
* * *
The Wall and checkpoints
isolate me from many things in my life. My
social life is composed of many elements, it is
not Hania alone. I have my parents, my sisters,
my brother, my work, my colleagues, the members
of Pyalara. Step by step, the separation started
with the checkpoints and then it was combined
with the Wall. Being cut off from one another
has a big toll on how a person views him or
herself, life, connections, relationships.
I remember I was living
with my family in Jerusalem proper, in Wadi Joz.
We lived in a rented house, and then the
landlord wanted our house. All the time my
parents were dreaming of owning their own house.
For financial reasons we were never able to buy
a real nice house, but we worked hard to buy an
apartment. After hard working, we were able to
buy it five years ago in the Kufr 'Aqoub area,
which is part of Jerusalem. My new house was
just a five-minute drive from my work. It was so
convenient, in the middle between Jerusalem and
Ramallah. We were very happy with it. A few
months afterwards checkpoint Kalandia was
constructed. Then the new apartment became a
nightmare. Suddenly all our dreams were
shattered. Now the family accused itself that
they made the most stupid decision in their
lives. All the savings were put in this house,
and as we are not a rich family, we could not
buy or rent another house in Jerusalem.
We are Jerusalemites but we
live on the other side of the checkpoints and
within the Walls. As a Jerusalemite you are
entitled to health coverage inside Israel. But
how to go there? So many things are separating
you from what is really yours. I remember that
when a few years ago my father was sick that all
the time we had to go to the hospital in
Jerusalem, to Hadassa. All the time we were in
my car, in winter. When we would reach a
checkpoint, we didn't know whether they would
let us pass. The checkpoint closed at nine in
the evening. But it happened several times that
you wanted to reach hospital as soon as
possible, and then they had to do all their
searches, all the checks, all the stupid
questions - and all this while we are
Jerusalemites. When my father died, he was in
the ambulance, stuck at the checkpoint.
My mom is generally fine
but she has some problems. She cannot walk
easily, because of back problems. She now feels
paralyzed because she cannot walk the three
hundred meters needed to cross the checkpoint
and to go wherever she wants. If I don't take
her, she cannot move. You cannot enjoy going
anywhere because you are at least one hour or
two hours stuck at the checkpoint. Any event you
want to go to is already destroyed by this
feeling that you need to cross a checkpoint as
if you are going to another country but then
also with all these humiliations and problems.
If something urgent happens to my mam and I want
to take her to hospital, I now have not only to
cross the checkpoint but also to face the
problem of the Wall. We are being really
separated from going to wherever we want. Even
our social life became a disaster. I remember my
birthday; it was just a while ago. None of my
sisters, nephews and nieces to whom I am very
close could make it. We turned from a very busy
family where all came to see each other very
often, having all those big lunches and dinners
and so on, into a family where the phone
replaces the face to face meeting of each other
and the social events. Having good social
connections characterizes us as Arabs or
Palestinians. But now we have to become
realistic, and you cannot waste all your time by
going through the checkpoints.
* * *
The Wall has a big impact
upon a youth organization like Pyalara. I
remember when we started this organization back
in 1999. It was a melting point. Whenever we had
a training or workshop, we had the kids coming
from different areas, from Hebron, Jerusalem,
Bethlehem, Ramallah. All would come and meet at
our office. As an organization we brought these
kids closer. Now this cannot happen anymore.
Now, if you want something to happen, we have to
go ourselves to Nablus. We now have no
connections with Hebron even though this was one
of the first places we started working in. I
have a press card so I can travel to Gaza. A few
days ago I came back from Gaza and I literally
cried. Oussama is the guy who is running our
office in Gaza. All the time he is on the phone
with his colleagues in Ramallah. He thinks that
I have the key to bring him to Ramallah. Each
time, he says: "Please try, please try. Maybe
they allow me. I just want to spend one day with
my colleagues in Ramallah." I feel that the toll
of separation is the biggest on the people of
Gaza.
As an organization you
always want to challenge tough challenges, to be
stronger even than the Wall or the barriers. We
really try to overcome whatever measures the
Israelis take. We try to make the people
connected despite the fact that they are
disconnected. Our kids in Nablus sometimes leave
at four in the morning and stand in long queues
in order to make it to come here in time.
Sometimes they are stuck because of a closure of
Nablous or another area and then they have to
sleep here. It's a financial burden. But the
young people are ready to cross the barriers
just to be together. Sometimes it is not
feasible. We have so many youngsters who are
below eighteen, and for them it is risky because
somebody has to bear the responsibility for
their traveling. If we go there we can just see
them, or otherwise we have to work through the
Internet and the phone.
The Wall had an impact upon
how people view each other. It has its negative
impact even upon us as Palestinians. People ask
themselves: Who is enjoying more freedom than
the other? People start looking at each other,
categorizing each other: Who is the least to
suffer, who more? Thank God, the younger
generation is a little more vibrant. They are
still hopeful, they want to challenge the world;
they want to escape, to run away, to have a
fresh start. The older generation really looks
like zombies sometimes, without spirits. This is
really scary. We are thankful that we are
working with the young generation but we are
always afraid about what would happen with them
in the future when the situation continues to be
like this.
What I feel is also
important is the psychological impact of the
Wall upon the Palestinian nation vis-à-vis the
Israeli nation. Already we have been
disconnected for so many years from the Israeli
side. We think that the Israeli side really
bought the stories or the myths that this Wall
protects them as a nation from invasions or
suicide bombings of the Palestinians. They
didn't really calculate the long-time effects of
the Wall. Maybe you can save some lives in the
short run, but on the long run I don't know what
the effect of the Wall will be. I don't know
what happens when you feel so much far away from
each other. As Palestinians you feel that
anybody living outside this Wall just doesn't
care; you feel that they don't want to see what
is going on inside the Wall. If we as two
nations are destined to share one land, and if
we care about the future generations, I don't
know how this Wall will help in really realizing
a better future.
The whole issue of the Wall
reminds me of an article I read and responded to
almost ten years ago. It was written by Susan
Hattis Rolef in the Jerusalem Post. She
advised the Israeli government to imprison what
she termed the terrorists inside nets, just like
what you do with musquitos that bother you. You
should keep them away by making a net around
them. And this is really what her government is
doing. For the Israeli government the
Palestinian people are not real human beings
with rights. You can just imprison those
troublemakers and then live on your life as
Israelis peacefully. You may gain whatever
tranquility on the short run, but if you don't
find a real settlement, a real just solution,
all the time those musquitos will tear the
screen and come and bother you again. Whatever
barriers or Walls are built, they will never
preserve tranquility or peace on the long run.
* * *
There is a big difference
between how I used to view freedom before and
how I live or feel it now. Years ago, freedom
was for me calm, nature, no borders, traveling,
green things, sea - all those things represented
freedom for me. So whenever I was traveling and
high in the sky or when I was swimming in the
sea, I felt like I owned the world. Freedom was
always connected with large landscapes, with
vistas, a big view. Maybe it was because of the
fact that where we live we almost never enjoy a
big view. Only few have the luck to live at a
place which is a little bit high. Where you live
or work there are many things that are
obstructing the view. It's because houses are so
much jammed here, close to each other, and now
because of the Wall. So for me freedom was the
eyesight.
But right now I see freedom
differently. Freedom has become more an
emotional state of mine. In order to feel free I
cannot make a connection with how I am living
objectively, with where I can go or not can go.
It's more like what I can do vs. what I cannot
do. Not in terms of traveling but with regard to
what emotionally sustains and fulfils me. In
order to reach a level of emotional
satisfaction, I have to concentrate on small
things that make me happy and make me feel free.
Like when I am helping someone and I feel that I
succeeded. For instance last night, I came home
at nine PM. As I was driving along the Wall,
someone was walking, a man, along the road. I
knew that at such a time he could not find a
taxi. He was walking along this endless road. I
stopped and gave him a ride. The feeling of
helping someone gave me a sense of fulfillment
and freedom. So I have to find my freedom in
very small things that maybe don't count on a
general level. But for me as a person I feel
that with each step I take, with something that
I do, I am liberating something inside me. This
gives me a sense of freedom which is lacking
around me, and at the same time it gives me a
sense of resilience. In order to be able to
continue I have to realize myself. I realize
myself through helping others, through being
needed, through giving hope to others. I have to
reach tangible results; if not, I don't feel
satisfied. For me hope is not just an abstract
term. Hope has to be linked to something
concrete. I have to divide hope into phases to
make it realistic. When you achieve a certain
phase, you move to the next level, and further
up. This is how I relate to the people around
me. So many young people are frustrated because
they want to achieve something much higher; they
want freedom, get rid of occupation. They want
to find excellent jobs, to fulfil their status
in society. We cannot fulfil all those goals
right now. How can you divide them into
something smaller? How can you find a role for
young people, whereby they can achieve part of
who they are, where they can help themselves and
others in the society? There should always be a
comparative approach. When you compare you can
reach a level of satisfaction. Even when you are
in a very bad situation you can find people who
are worse. And because you are better, you can
help them. If you bring those who are in a worse
situation to your bad situation, it is a
fulfillment. Until you can reach a level of
doing something much better.
As a Jerusalemite, as a
representative of a youth organization and as a
journalist, I usually have the opportunity to
travel. And we do our best to make our young
people travel. But it's funny: If I am in
another country - let's say Holland, Germany or
the US – and I am enjoying whatever those
countries give, believe me, I don't feel
relieved and relaxed until I reach Kalandia
checkpoint. Only then I am back home [laughs].
It reminds me of Kundera's book title "The
unbearable lightness of being." I know what is
awaiting me. Whenever I want, I can be somewhere
else, and I could do many other things in the
world. The easiest thing is just to escape. But
somehow you want to face the challenge. Other
nations can live disasters or epidemics. But in
our case we face not just a "regular disaster"
like an economic burden or even a regular Wall,
but a convergence of factors that are all
designed to continuously degrade the human
being, to deprive one of one's dignity. You can
be a Palestinian subjected to daily experiences
that drive you crazy. But still we manage to
overcome whatever experiences we go through, and
somehow to challenge the things that cannot be
challenged. The fact that we really have to get
rid of the occupation became a challenge. Of
course we are entitled to get rid of the
occupation according to all the international
laws. But you have to keep strong in order to
maintain your ability to challenge the
occupation until you get your rights. Meanwhile,
in order to continue and be strong, your soul
has to be feeded, nourished.
I nourished myself by
things that I managed to fulfil on the personal
or on the organizational level. I feel that we
as Pyalara are impacting upon the young people's
lives. Sometimes you are amazed at the comments
you get. When you hear some people talking about
how we influenced their lives, it made us say:
"Oh, my God." Sometimes we can't believe how
much a small thing can help, how it can rescue
people. You do something small – let's say
giving youth an opportunity to speak on a youth
TV program - and you yourself don't appreciate
its value. But it might come at a certain point
in a person's life when self-esteem is so low
that your support or your ability to engage them
in something rescues their lives. They get a
feeling that they get meaning in their lives,
that they're doing something valuable. That
there is a reason that they should continue to
live, and look for the future. Sometimes I feel
I need myself someone to support me, someone to
give me hope. I am a human being. I need to
believe in the things I am doing and so you need
someone who makes you deeply believe in hope.
But when I am feeling down and come to work, I
get some of those feedbacks as soon as I meet
with the target groups we are working with. I
see how much their lives are touched. Then I
really get energy.
When we recently were in
Holland with a group of youths, I wasn't
talking, it were the young people who were
narrating their stories. When the Dutch young
people were clapping and were embracing the
Palestinians, I looked at those young people.
They felt they liberated the world; they won a
million dollars. I really felt they had a
mission accomplished. They worked from their
heart, and they delivered something. Those young
people felt they had played a big role for their
peers, for their company, for their cause. Those
moments are like a treasure. You can always lean
back on those moments. |
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