1-Tulkarem Ambulance Duty, 15 January 2003 2-EDUCATION RALLY IN NABLUS, PALESTINE 3-OMAR AL-TITI UPDATE. Is there justice in this land?

1-Tulkarem
Ambulance Duty, 15 January 2003

From: <elsberg@econs.umass.edu>
Wednesday, January 15, 2003 11:43 AM

It's 3am. I've been sleeping on the sofa in the dispatch. The
dispatcher's phone starts ringing off the hook. I can only catch
one word of hers as she > speaks to the callers: "shaheed"
(commonly translated as "martyr"). I go to her desk and see
two paramedics, Mohamad and Sami, preparing to depart.

The dispatcher tells me to go with them. We drive maybe two minutes,
probably less, into Tulkarem Refugee Camp. A young man appears from the
shadows and runs down the street, leading the ambulance
for about 50 yards. More young men are now in the street, perhaps eight
or ten, one with a handgun. He is down the road about 20
yards away, now brightly lit by the ambulance headlights, keeping watch
round the corner of an intersection.

Sami is the driver, Mohamad is sitting in the middle of the front seat
and I am sitting in the passenger seat. Sami motions me to
allow Mohamad to get out. I do so and get back into the ambulance while
Mohamad pulls out a fabric strecher from the back. One of
the men from the street takes it and runs into a driveway
or alley. Within seconds another man runs out of this space
carrying the wounded youth in his arms. The wounded youth is
loaded into the back of the ambulance and one of his fellows
jumps in along with Mohamad. We back down the street to turn
around. One of the men from the street leans into the wall of
a nearby home and lets out a loud cry as we pull back.
I glance back into the ambulance and can see blood coming out
of the mouth of the patient.

He makes no sounds or movements. A minute later we are at Tulkarem
Hospital, across the street from the ambulance dispatch. The
driver honks at the gate and when no one responds immediately,
I jump out and drag it open, then close it once the ambulance
enters the compound. We pull the stretcher out of the back
of the ambulance and I can see a small loop of intestine
poking through a wound in the middle of the patient's belly.

I follow behind as they roll him into the emergency room, uncertain if I
should do so or stay with the ambulance, but I'm
feeling insecure and prefer to stick with the paramedics.
A doctor is in the ER and a nurse is turning on the lights.

The patient's arm hangs limply off the side of the stretcher and
when the doctor makes no move towards him I know that he must be dead.
The youth who rode in back of the ambulance with us begins to cry and
presses his face into the neck of the dead man, hugging his
comrade's head to himself. He steps away and the nurse and Mohamad go to
move the body onto a hospital bed. Sami has walked outside
for the moment, escorting and comforting the crying friend,
and I had seen that Sami had a tear running down his cheek as he
went by. They need someone to help move the body so I take hold
of his shoulders and we move him, getting a small smudge of blood on the
palm of my hand. I can see that there is another wound on
the side of his torso, but I don't know if it is from a second
bullet or part of an entry-wound/exit-wound pair.

Two other men from the street, including the one who had cried out in the
street, rush into the ER. That one lets out another hoarse cry as he
sees the body and goes to it, pulling a blanket over the wounded body
and hugging it to his own. Sami comes back into the
ER and he says to me that we should go back to the ambulance.

A few moments later the remaining paramedic joins us and we
drive the few yards back to the dispatch. It's 3:15 am.
[After writing the above in my journal, I talk with Mohamad and Sami and
learn > that the dead youth is Mohi al'Din Mahmood Hamza,
17 years old. He was shot with a number of bullets in the legs,
torso and head by soldiers in an armored pesonnel carrier
enforcing curfew on the refugee camp. They recognized him from
the night before when he had helped load another youth, wounded in the
same part of the camp, into the ambulance.]
Jonathan
====================================================2-EDUCATION RALLY IN
NABLUS, PALESTINE Date: January 15, 2003
Area: Nablus
Author: ISM

The children of Nablus today took part in a peaceful demonstration for
their right to education. Approximately 100 children from local schools
in Nablus took part in the protest, calling for international
attention to their plight.

The impact of the occupation on children is tremendous. Schools
are randomly closed or shelled by the IOF, both teachers and
students are not allowed past checkpoints to get to their schools.
In addition, continual curfews prevent children from leaving
their homes and everyone lives under a continual state of
oppression, fear and humiliation.

Waving the Palestinian flag and holding signs such as "Save
the Children, End the Occupation" the children of Nablus took
to the streets. During the demonstration, children read
statements in English, French and Arabic calling on the world
to recognize the impact of Israeli aggression on their right
to learn and live without fear. Also at the rally were local
teachers, political leaders and members of the International
Solidarity Movement.
============================================================3-OMAR
AL-TITI UPDATE. Is there justice in this land? Date: January 15, 2003
Area: Nablus
Author: Susan Barclay

Omar Al-Titi is currently in Ofra prison just outside of Ramallah, and
has been sentenced to 6 months administrative detention. Omar has been
in a touch with his family a number of times and seems well, strong; his
lawyer also said he seemed strong psychologically,
positive, and alert.

His case was presented in military court on Monday, December 13th and
injustice prevailed once again. Having such a dear friend
arrested and attempting to do legal support work for a Palestinian has
opened my eyes to yet another viciously unjust policy of
the supposedly democratic state of Israel.

Omar, and thousands others like him, are sentenced to administrative
detention; Israel has the 'legal' right to detain people without
charge or trial for six months. Omar's lawyer went to court on
Monday and the "routine" procedure began. Omar's file is kept
entirely secret and presented to a judge in private; in fact,
the Shabak (Israeli Intelligence) meet privately with the judge,
who then makes a ruling. 6 months was the ruling in Omar's case
and his lawyer's words said in vain, as the judged rebutted her
every argument by saying that there is more than enough in Omar's file
to keep in him in prison for 6 months.

A routine appeal process, I was told on the phone today is all that is
possible (although we are exploring the possibility of a private
lawyer). Incessant calls to lawyers and prisoners associations that
handle hundreds of cases and thus can simply not focus on one
individual; Mandela Prisoner Association attempted to deliver
a little money for cigarettes today and there was a complete
closure at Ofra; no one can promise anything and at the end of
hours of calls, I feel so frustrated---we simply must be able to
do more.

And it brings tears to my eyes to think that I could say all this to
Omar and rant and rave about the injustice and the hypocrisy,
and he would knowingly smile, say something to make both of us laugh,
and then almost magically move into talks of demonstrations,
non-violent resistance, and future possibilities, making me chat
and laugh until I forget the anger and outrage I felt minutes
before. He is an incredibly strong person with a gentle,
interminably positive spirit and I imagine that he is handling
this better than most of us.

Is there any justice in this land?

Imagine if in France, Canada, Japan, or Sweden someone said:
My brother was detained one day walking from the city to some local
villages, stopped by machine guns and ordered with lethal force to turn
over his ID. The soldiers, after calling in his ID number
to a communications center, blindfolded, handcuffed and took him
to a nearby occupied civilian house where they beat him. He
was then held at a military base for 2 weeks that has absolutely
no facilities at all to hold, sleep or feed men. He was never
allowed a phone call, a lawyer's visit or even his daily medicine. He
was transferred to a prison just hours late enough to
conveniently miss his first hearing. Finally, based on secret
information that was presented in private from the secret police
to a judge, he got a 6 month sentence, and lawyers say all that
you can do is file another "routine" appeal and wait six months,
like thousands of other Palestinians.

My throat gets dry and my eyes wet as I think of Omar in prison,
and all the other men and the families and friends who love and
miss them, having to swallow, being force fed oppression and
injustice daily. I honestly can not imagine being in his place. Maybe
it because I haven't lived here all my life, maybe its
because I think nothing is normal about 6 months in prison
without charge, or maybe it is because I actually believe
in humanity, in justice, in fundamental basic rights, and in
truth that absolutely nothing about this goes down the right way. So
many of us seem to be choking.

Susan Barclay
Nablus – Occupied Palestine