The organic farmer next to the chemical factory

Trying to keep the pollution out of the greenhouses with netting and pieces of tape

It seems like life never turns out the way people wish for in Palestine. As Fayyez at-Tanib was on his way to continue his studies abroad, he was arrested by the Israelis and his dream was cut short. So, after his release he decided to become a farmer.

His farm, however, has ended up being stuck between the Wall and a chemical factory. This factory, specializing in pesticides, has been deemed so unhealthy by the Israeli court that the owner, Geshuri, was forced to close it down in Israel. But, he found a solution. He moved it to the West Bank.

Between the greenhouses and the Wall

Fayyez has tried to fight the Geshuri factory since it was established in 1987. He has been rewarded with several threats against his family and an attempt on his life. So far his fight has been in vain. Instead, a dozen more factories have settled in the area. And when the Wall was built, Fayyez lost 68 per cent of his land.

But despite all the drawbacks, he keeps on working. In fact, he only grows organic vegatables and fruits. It does seem strangely ironic. Especially as the water tank lies open to all the pollution from the factory. Yet I can't help but admire his will to keep going, and not through the simplest means available, but by putting in extra work in something he really believes in.

The yellow paper draws the insects towards it, making pesticides superfluous.

These bees stimulate the growth of the tomatoes

The water tank - and the chemical factory in the background

What is this fruit called in English? Anyone?

Drivin' me crazy

A father and son from Jenin, whose music is, well... lively...

This is Guillaume's new favourite CD. Trust me, Bedouin music at 4:45 AM is not a blast. All six songs sound somewhat similar to me. Kinda like Ace of Base in Arabic.

A lose-lose situation

Ruins of a previously demolished house in Far'oun

House demolitions happen almost daily in the West Bank - particularly in and around the Jerusalem. The most common reason is that the Palestinian house owner is unable to a obtain building permit from the Israeli authorities in Area C (area under full Israeli control).

This is, however, not the case in the village of Far'oun south of Tulkarem. Here, two houses have been served demolition orders because these houses are too close to the Wall. The thing is, these houses were built before the Wall was. Not to mention that the Wall is built on Palestinian privately-owned land and not on the internationally acknowledged green line. Nevertheless, the message from the Israeli authorities is clear: These houses must be removed. For security reasons.

The view from the roof terrace of one of the threatened houses - demolished houses all around. In the background you can see the Wall, here built as a fence.

The owners of the two houses have taken the case to the Israeli court, which has granted them an extension on the demolition date. We went to Far'oun and met one of them. He seemed pretty certain about the outcome. His family had cleaned the house for its belongings and vacated it. Hearing horror stories of families that were only given five minute warnings and lost everything they owned under the rubble, has made people precautious.

All valuable are removed and the family is living with relatives

There was resignation written all over this man. He knows it is a lost cause no matter how hard he fights. After the last court hearing, a representative from the Israeli military told him that even if he wins the case, they will find a way to fabricate a reason to have the house demolished. 'We will get someone to shoot at the Wall from your house, and then it will have to be demolished for security reasons', he had said. Security. Of course.

Maybe the last time the owner walks through the gate of his house

Last year, seven neighbouring houses were demolished. The year before another two.

Ramifications of a suicide bomb

Yesterday's suicide bombing in Dimona, which killed an Israeli woman, has dictated the lives of the Palestinians in the West Bank today. It will probably continue to do so in the days and weeks to follow. The restriction of movement in and around Tulkarem has become limited to say the least. No males under the age of 35 are allowed to leave the city. It doesn't matter if you live in Jericho or Jenin. You will have to stay put.

Walking past the queuing car up to the checkpoint

A Bethlehem-EA who had been visiting Tulkarem for a couple of days, called to inform us of the new restrictions in the early afternoon. She had had a difficult time passing the Al Ras/Jbarah checkpoint south of Tulkarem, but, being a foreigner, was let through at last. After hearing of more incidents with less successful outcomes at several checkpoints, we decided to go and check out the situation ourselves.

When we arrived at Jbarah checkpoint, there were about 50 young-ish men waiting to go through on foot. They had come to the checkpoint in taxis and servises to go home from work and universities, and had been told to step out and wait. Now the soldiers were ignoring them and they were just standing around.

Whenever they tried to approach the soldiers to ask them if they could let them through or how long it would take before the restrictions would be lifted, they were shouted at and told to pull back. Upon our arrival, we were greeted by a French-speaking soldier who immediately developed a strong dislike for Guillaume. He told us that this was a good lesson for the Palestinians. 'Next time they will think twice before voting for Hamas', he said. Clever chap.

Increasing number of men waiting by the checkpoint

Increasing number of cars waiting by the checkpoint

There were those who tried to walk through the fields around the checkpoint. They were stopped by soldiers waiting in the bushes who sent them back to the checkpoint. As time passed, more and more cars arrived and the group of men grew steadily. Some of them had young children with them, but this was not an ameliorating factor in any way. The soldiers had their orders and did not budge an inch.

Catching the last sun rays and trying to keep the mood up

After an hour and a half, there were over 300 people waiting in cars and by the road. As it got colder and darker, people lit fires to keep warm. Palestinians are used to waiting, so many just sat down and hoped for the restrictions to get lifted. Others, however, were desperate to get home. 'We did not blow ourselves up in Dimona, so why are they punishing us?' could be heard repeatedly in the crowd. Questions that we couldn't answer were directed at us. 'Where will we sleep tonight?'. 'Why are we treated like animals?'. More and more people were asking us for help - a sick old woman in a car, a bus full of children, a man with an infant - but the situation didn't leave us any room to act. The chaos, the desperation of the people, started feeling heavy on our shoulders.

With nowhere to go, fires are necessary to keep warm

In the end, the animosity the French-speaking soldier felt towards Guillaume ended our watch. He started threatening us that if we didn't remove ourselves from the checkpoint, he would have us arrested. He physically pushed Guillaume to underline his point and called him 'a short leftist from Europe' (more on how Guillaume experienced the day here). We knew then that our presence would only continue annoy this soldier, and since we couldn't do much about the waiting men, decided it was time to leave.

When we arrived home, exhausted, sad and cold, the phone started ringing. It was people we knew - friends, contacts, acquaintances - who wanted our help. They had husbands, sons, brothers stuck at various checkpoints around Tulkarem. We could only reply: 'There's nothing we can do. We are so sorry for what is happening'. I believe we both felt completely useless in that moment.

Our evening ended with a visit from our friend Samar and her colleague who lives in Jenin, the northernmost city in the West Bank. After waiting in vain for six hours at Anabta checkpoint, Samar's friend decided to turn back to Tulkarem. He was one of the lucky ones, he had somewhere to sleep. He told us that people had been ordered to stay in their cars at the checkpoint, and anyone who had tried to open their car door were reminded to keep it shut as the soldiers responded with gunfire.

Suicide bombings are despicable. So is collective punishment.

Italian style

- It is like Italian style! No really, it is!

The female students at Kadoorie University are talking about the appearance of young Palestinian men. With their hair swamped in shiny hair products, wearing tightly fitted tops and jeans, often covered in print, a Palestinian youngster's dress style might be reminiscent of the fashion inTurkey or southern Italy. However, I am sure a fashion-conscious Milanese would be horrified about the "Italian" labelling.

You see the same style everywhere, whether you're in big urban and liberal cities like Ramallah or in traditional and small villages like Attil. Personally, I've grown accustomed to the style, and now I even think some of them look almost good. Almost being the key word here.

Girls in Palestine love glitter. I hate glitter. Hence, most of my purchases have been on the other side of the Green Line. But I do admit that my aesthetics have changed slightly. I now think that a little glitter goes a long way, whilst at home I used to think that no glitter went all the way. I wonder if it'll remain this way when I get back home...?

A visit from Jordan

Rob came. He saw. He conquered. At least the heart of my team mate. Shater!

Drinking Glühwein

Somewhere in West Jerusalem with Guillaume, Garrick and Daniel. Such a group of lookers - what is a girl to do?

Winter barbeque

FYI, I now know how to make a mean kebab. We spent yesterday evening together with a few (male) friends. As a good and virtuous woman, I stepped up to the task and contributed. Actually, it's not too different from making meat balls.