This is My Story
PalestineChronicle.com
March 13, 2002
By Linda Sweiss
My name is Linda Sweiss, and I am a 23-year-old, first generation
Palestinian-Canadian. Growing up in Canada I always heard of a distant
land that was once the home of my parents, a home they were forced to
flee from when they were children. As I grew older I began to learn
more about this place called Palestine, and the turmoil the land and
its people have faced for over 50 years.
I recently decided to experience it for myself. With the aid of Global
Exchange, an organization dedicated to promoting social justice
throughout the world, I visited the occupied territories as a part of
a solidarity delegation. The delegation consisted of eight people from
North America, all from various ethnic and religious backgrounds.
For two weeks I lived the occupation as every Palestinian citizen
lives every day of their existence, less the fact that I had a
Canadian Passport, which made my travels much easier. It was
disturbing knowing that a foreigner (as myself) had many more
privileges then a Palestinian who has been born and raised in
Palestine. I found myself continuously wondering how peace could ever
prevail in the absence of justice?
One of the most rewarding experiences of my trip was when I had the
opportunity to live amongst the refugees in the Dheisheh Refugee Camp,
located in Bethlehem. Even though I was only visiting there for a
short time, I found myself easily sympathizing with how a Palestinian
could feel utter despair and complete hopelessness.
I met family after family and each with a tragic story to tell. More
often then not, words became simply unnecessary, for the eyes of an
orphaned child or a newly widowed mother, tell a thousand words.
I felt for the first time in my life how it feels to not have water to
bathe in, to wait 3 hours for a soldier with a foreign accent and an
M16 to allow me to make my journey from Ramallah to Bethlehem which
typically is only a 20 minute ride, to be scrutinized and my
belongings taken when entering a mosque for prayers. I never had to
experience living like a prisoner within my own home, imprisoned like
a caged animal with barbwire and tall fences surrounding me, and
having a curfew, something my own parents have never afflicted on me.
There is nothing that could describe the feelings that erupt within you when
you see the inhumane acts that are committed against the people of
Palestine, atrocities that have been ignored by the world. I truly felt as
though an insect had more rights then I.
In Gaza Strip, we visited the Rafah Refugee Camp, which is the site of
the largest home demolition that has taken place during the
intifada. As I boarded the bus for our return trip, I noticed my
friend Elise, an American Jew, sitting in the back of the bus, face in
palms, sobbing. I thought of consoling her. I went and sat beside her
and before I could say a word, she began to apologize. She said that
what we just saw was not what being Jewish was all about. She felt a
sense of shame for what was being done to the Palestinians in the name
of Judaism. In my effort to console her, I found that I was being
consoled by her.
It was to my relief (and delight) to learn that the Jewish state does
not speak for the Jewish people in the world. Not all Jews believe
that the oppression is legitimate or justifiable. For me, this was one
of the most cherished lessons that I took back with me. Elise and I
promised to continue our relations when we returned home and to fight
the ignorance in our own countries together.
I have scarcely met a people as warm and kind as the Palestinian
people in the Occupied Territories. Even with their misery and poverty
stricken lives, they would do their utmost to make you feel
comfortable amidst their humble surroundings.
It is astonishing to see people cry so loud for help, while the
international community stands idly by: not hearing, or pretending not
to be hearing the cries. I wondered many things while I was in
Palestine. One of them was: if this were happening to another people,
a people from a different part of the world, with a different culture
and different religion, would everyone else remain mute? Or, might we
hear a call for justice by some brave nation? I have realized that in
Palestine there are always more questions than answers.
While at the airport returning for home a young Israeli soldier by the
name of Patricia walked me to my gate, she had asked me about my
education, and if I had received military training in Canada. I told
her that is was not mandatory to be in the armed forces in Canada.
I asked Patricia if she enjoyed being in the army, her answer was
simply "it is something we must do". I then asked her what she thought
of the situation between the Israelis and Palestinians, and she
abruptly told me that we (the Israelis) must protect our people from
these "terrorists". It was then that I told her that I am a
Palestinian, and you have walked me all the way to my boarding gate
and have talked to me in a civil manner, why can we not speak always
in a civil manner?
She looked flustered and then began to agree with me. I learned that
Patricia had never entered the Occupied Territories; she had never
seen how the Palestinians suffer each and every day of their lives or
what it's like to grow up in an occupied land. I told Patricia about
what an everyday is like for a Palestinian: the continual humiliation,
cutting off of water, and electricity, the killing and imprisonment of
innocent people, and curfews to name a few. I rhetorically asked her
how the Government of Israel can justify for the sake of security,
denying access to a pregnant mother who is about to give birth to pass
through a checkpoint.
Until our conversation, Patricia had no idea what the Palestinians
endure each day of their lives. Patricia asked me what I think the
answer to our problem is. And the answer is so simple: end the
suffering of the Palestinian people; end the occupation.
How much more proof do we need to see that these people are suffering,
how much more collective punishment, how many more demolished homes,
how many more mothers will have to cry for the loss of their children,
how many more unnecessary checkpoints, how many more Israeli soldiers
will have to refuse military occupational duty, how many more suicide
bombings will have to occur, before we understand how real this
occupation is, and how we have been so negligent as westerners to the
outcry of the Palestinians.
The famous anthropologist Margaret Meade once said " Never doubt that
a small group of committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it
is the only thing that has." Well I for one intend to be a committed
Canadian citizen who will fight and speak out against these crimes of
humanity.
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