Travelling through the West Bank

[Burning the US flag at a Nakba protest in Nablus. Unfortunately, for those who lit it, it lacked the intended visual effect. It was polyester so it melted rather than burned.]

So much has happened over the past few days but it's been difficult to put blog to website. My general routine is to meet people from 11am onwards. 11am is when people get busy and the Palestinian cities really spring to life. I've interviewed refugees from 1948, the families of people, mostly kids, who have been murdered by the Israelis and a few who murdered Israelis, and have lined up some interviews with militants. The latter is a little more difficult to arrange owing to the fact that militants are being targeted for assassination or capture by the Israelis. Most have either been killed, imprisoned or fled the West Bank. The remainder are in hiding.

[A Palestinian boy getting excited during a Nakba protest in Tulkarem]

I've met some very dedicated foreign activists during my travels. They have often been the link to Palestinians and issues of interest, like the small village I stayed in overnight. It was experiencing settler violence, they were firing at the Palestinian village and setting fire to their crops. A Palestinian crowd often gathers and shouts at the settlers. Some throw stones. The settlers are armed to the teeth. I'm talking M-16s here. Israeli soldiers arrive and often just stand and watch the settlers firing on the village or setting fire to the crops. Instead they fire tear gas and rubber bullets at the Palestinians.

When we got to the village on this occasion the soldiers were, thankfully, about to leave. We missed the violence and I was happy about that. A bunch of us stayed in the village overnight. The townsfolk were incredibly good hosts and we partook in a local Nakba protest that evening which ran through the village streets.

It's interesting how your mindset changes when you have to share your personal space with total strangers. You become, in the short term, far more tolerant and resilient. At least, I like to think so. But eventually, as with all things, your tolerance ends. I've noticed, not for the first time, how annoying well intentioned people like activists can be. For example, some of my travelling companions are just a little too obssessed with respecting local customs and mores... and reminding me to obey in kind. To be sure this is generally a good thing. But I think a lot of foreigners who go to third world countries forget that the locals are just people too and are not monolithically attached to custom. By that I mean they are more tolerant and flexible with foreigners and and you don't have to follow every tip in the Lonely Planet guide. Don't chuck a cow if you accidentally shake hands with the wrong gender. Try to not to be more local than the locals. And for god's sake enjoy the odd moment of laughing or swearing inappropriately. Otherwise the locals may just find you a little patronising. I know I would.

That evening we sat in a reception room in our hosts' house for hours, all of us rather exhausted but afraid to seek permission to go to bed. Eventually, around midnight, I told one of our hosts it was time to sleep. I was told this may offend the hosts, but in truth they were tired too. I think they wanted to go to sleep as well but were afraid, ironically, like us, that they'd offend us by calling it a night too soon. All of us quickly and efficiently went to sleep once the ice was broken. Earlier in the night I offended one of my companions by using the f-word... while in the same room with a number of grown Palestinian men.

I also happened to have my right leg crossed over my left thigh while I was sitting down. The next morning one of my companions complained that this was considered disrespectful under local customs. Displaying the sole of your foot is rude. I was tired and keen to get back to my room for a hot shower before today's string of interviews and frankly the last thing I really was concerned about was my foot etiquette. The locals didn't seem at all concerned as a number of them spoke to me complete with exposed sole. Strictly speaking it is disrespectful to show the soul of your foot in the subcontinent too, but I've never run into trouble there, at least for this reason!, in all the times I've been around that part of the world.

[Boy in a refugee camp. There are so many kids over here.]

One of my companions is a really good Australian activist. Unfortunately this activist also has that trait, common among Australians, of being impossibly earnest. In a place like Palestine you often have to tell a white lie to keep desperate people afloat. "Will Mr B from France return to Palestine?" Truth: no, of course not. Appropriate response: "Yes, of course he will, inshallah!" Call that patronising or colonial even. But it's just plain true. This companion, who is something of a veteran and very knowledge on the conflict and local customs, simply does not realise this. To their credit it shows that they are honest and don't play games with the truth. Traits I respect more than anything else. I guess another problem is that it's hard not to become overly earnest and humourless in a depressing environment and, believe me, occupied Palestine is depressing.

[Poster of a shaheed or martyr, a militant killed in clashes with Israelis. Almost all the posters are of young men. So very, very sad.]

At the same time, observing them has made me wonder whether one problem with many activists is the inability to act dynamically. In every environment you have to be a bit of an actor. Pure altruism is like pure oxygen. It's lethal without impurities.

[An old man walking through the Nablus old city. Around twice a week these alleys become a battle ground between patrolling Israelis and militants.]