Bethlehem & Hebron

Yesterday morning we found ourselves in Hebron, a city with a very tense relationship between Palestinians and Israeli settlers. We wandered the market, bought keffiyehs made at the only remaining factory in the West Bank, surveyed the city from the rooftops, and visited the Tomb of Abraham (from the Jewish section, since the Muslim section is closed to tourists on Fridays).

In the afternoon we made our way to Bethlehem. After a relaxed lunch of various mezze, we headed to the Church of the Nativity in downtown Bethlehem. After touring the old church, the new Catholic church, and the grotto beneath, I met up with some local friends and headed home for a much-needed relaxing evening.

Today I took a quick trip through the security checkpoint and headed to Jerusalem for the morning, only to discover that the Dome of the Rock is not only closed to the public on Fridays and Muslim holidays - as I had been told - but on Saturdays as well. For the second time, I wasn't able to enter the Temple Mount.

Once I had made my way back to Bethlehem, we had lunch, ran into some friends we'd met in Hebron, and visited Shepherd's Field, the location where the Star of Bethlehem reportedly appeared in the sky the night that Christ was born.

The Old City of Nablus

Colorful fruits and vegetables. Pungent spices. The sticky sweetness of konafa. Shops whose wares of clothes and household goods spill into narrow alleyways. The aromas of falafel, shwarma, and occasionally donkey dung. Calls of “welcome!” This is the Old City of Nablus.

A Turkish bath awaits behind closed doors – for women only, because today is Sunday. Women lounge on cushions or chat at tables. Some sip cups of tea with mint or Turkish coffee, others puff away at flavored tobacco or shisha, the water-pipe known by a dozen names and common throughout the Middle East. Behind closed doors are hot stones under vaulted ceilings, mosaic walls, and steam rooms, the last of which is barely discernable through the clouds of water vapor billowing out of it. This is the Old City of Nablus.

Yet the doorway to the Turkish bath is not so grand as it once was. A closer look at the alleyways reveals countless posters commemorating martyrs and patches of crumbling stone. Above the smiling faces of shopkeepers and curious eyes of children, bullet holes riddle the sides of buildings which have yet to be restored. Some of the holes are decades old, others only a few years. This, also, is the Old City of Nablus.

Today is a normal day in the Palestinian city. The violent conflicts of the Second Intifada are no longer daily occurrences, but they are far from forgotten. The martyr posters commemorate the men, women, and children Nablus has lost at the hands of Israeli soldiers, whether directly or indirectly. Hundreds of citizens are still kept in Israeli prisons, and the military maintains checkpoints outside the city. Today, many of them are open and both Palestinian and Israeli vehicles pass through them easily. A few years ago the case was very different. Entry and exit into Nablus was strictly controlled, with students of An-Najah University prohibited from crossing the checkpoints into the city. Many resorted to passing by foot through olive groves in order to attend classes.

Reminders of the conflict are easy to see, and one doesn’t always have to look hard for them. In a handful of shops, ammunition belts and bullet-proof vests hang beside keffiyehs and baseball caps.

This, too, is the Old City of Nablus.

Refugees, tear gas, and culture

Here's a brief update of the last few days. More later.

Yesterday we took a tour of the Balata Refugee Camp and Yafa Cultural Center. Balata was formed by the United Nations for refugees from Yafa and the surrounding areas of Palestine in 1951. It was intended to be temporary, and was located on one square kilometer of land in the Balata neighborhood of Nablus.

Today, the camp is still there, and over 25,000 people live in its one square kilometer.

This morning we took a bus down to Ramallah for a meeting at the headquarters of the Stop the Wall campaign. After that, we went to the village of Nilin. Nilin is one of many villages of farmers who have found themselves separated from their land due to the wall being built by Israel to separate the West Bank. As we walked about a kilometer away from the wall, we were constantly stepping around empty military-grade tear gas canisters. The cacti lining the dirt road were riddled with bullet holes. In some places rubber bullets remained embedded in the plants. Rubber bullets and regular shell casings weren't hard to find on the ground.

Reaching within half a kilometer of the wall, our local guide stopped us.

"What will happen if we go closer?" asked a member of our group.

"I don't know," he replied. "Maybe they will open the gate and shoot us."

We kept our distance.

We also ran into a peacock as we walked back into the village, before we headed to the Palestinian Popular Culture Center. Go figure.

Watching the World Cup in Palestine

Millions of people around the world gathered around TV screens to watch the World Cup finals between Spain and the Netherlands last night. In the West Bank city of Nablus, around two thousand Palestinians crowded into an open-air hillside amphitheatre to watch the game projected on a massive screen. I and three other foreigners were among them, surrounded by cheering, joking, laughing Palestinians. Spanish flags waved everywhere, with the occasional red-white-blue of the Netherlands visible. Twenty or so Italians gathered on the floor of the amphitheatre, a French couple were somewhere in the crowd, and a handful of other foreigners were interspersed across the hillside.

Young boys wove their way through the crowd carrying drinks and sunflower seeds, older boys offering steaming tea and coffee. Bags of sweets moved through the crowd, and a couple found their way into our hands after being purchased by our new Palestinian friends, who were sitting in front of us. Bags of sunflower seeds were passed. "Espana? Espana?" eager voices asked us, with a few shaking their heads as my friends and I affirmed we were rooting for Spain.

As the game neared a close after 30 minues of overtime, the cheering became deafening. Everyone was on their feet, cheering as much for every goal saved as for the goal made by Spain. Masses of Palestinian youth poured onto the streets at the end of the match, Spanish flags flying out the windows of cars and horns blaring as we hailed a cab and headed back to our Nablus flat.

I have to say, watching the World Cup finals at an open-air amphitheatre in Nablus surrounded by thousands of Palestinians was definitely the experience of a lifetime - even for someone who isn't really a football fan.

Jerusalem!

Hello friends,

Just a quick note to let you all know I'm in Jerusalem! Headed to Ramallah and Nablus tomorrow. I'll keep you all updated. For now, here's a picture of some of the thousands of crosses carved into the walls of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre:

Tragedy in Egypt for Star Academy 7

Thursday brought a tragedy for Egypt, Lebanon, and fans of Star Academy. Lebanese participant Rami Shmali was killed when he lost control of the car he was driving and collided head-on with another vehicle on the 6 October Bridge in Cairo. An elderly man in the other car was also killed, and two passengers injured.

Egyptian Mahmoud Shoukry, also a participant in this year's Star Academy, was in the car with Rami and has been hospitalized. Friends say he'll be okay.

I know reality TV and talent competitions aren't my usual subject material, but Mahmoud is a good friend and someone I respect. He's a wonderful and loyal friend, a talented musician and dancer, and the sort of person who raises the spirits of everyone around him.

He's lost a close friend, and is still in the hospital. Please keep him and his family in your prayers, and Rami's family as well. And please, drive carefully!

Edit: www.waleg.com has reported that there are rumors starting which say Rami was not driving the car. The rumor claims that Mahmoud said Rami was driving the car in order to avoid possible prosecution. Both of these are false: Mahmoud was unconscious after the accident and unable to speak to anyone. When Mahmoud and Rami were pulled out of the car it was clear who was driving and who was not. Using circular reasoning that Rami had just arrived in the country and consequently wouldn't have been driving is simply inaccurate. Clearly, someone is just out for media attention. Don't give it to them.

Thousands gather peacefully in Alexandria

A long day is winding to a close in Alexandria, yet Ayman Nour's waterfront apartment is still buzzing. Media, friends, al-Ghad members, and activists fill the reception. Tea, cake, and croissants are devoured by the exhausted group as Nour appears for yet another interview. There is laughter, and smiles on everyone's faces despite the exhaustion.

There were no arrests today. There was no police brutality. And oh, was there a protest.

I've heard estimates that there were 4,000 people at the Sidi Gabr Mosque in Alexandria today. I can't offer my own estimates, as I spent the first half of the demonstration smack in the middle of a sea of people. I can, however, testify that it was indeed a sea of people.

Popular opposition figure Mohamed El-Baradei made a brief appearance at the mosque. Ayman Nour, George Ishak, and Hamdeen Sabbahi were there as well, along with literally thousands of Egyptians.

Around 7:30pm this evening, I watched at least 800 people march single-file down the Mediterranean city's sea-side main road. Men, women, young, old. Entire families, complete with small children. Most of them wore black.

El-Baradei again made his typical momentary appearance, and Ayman Nour walked the sidewalks of the corniche with the silent demonstrators for more than an hour.

The death of Khaled Said has brought everyday Egyptians to the streets. The usual group of 200 activists has swollen. And in Alex, unpoliticized youth have found a new means of protest: standing silently along the corniche, wearing black, and praying for Khaled's soul.

Today has been an exhausting day, and it is time I head back to Cairo.

Brutal death of young Egyptian raises questions

Egyptian bloggers and independent and opposition media have been widely publicizing the death of 28-year-old Khaled Said over the past few days.

Last Sunday, June 6, 2010 Khaled died. According to most interpretations of the story, Khaled was brutally murdered by two plainclothes police officers who confronted him in broad daylight at an Internet cafe in Alexandria. This article in the New York Times reports that according to Khaled's family the young businessman was killed because he was in possession of a video which clearly showed the two officers who assaulted him dividing the spoils of a drug bust amongst a group of people including themselves (the video can be viewed here). The article says:

The officers slammed [Khaled's] head against a table, dragged him outside, smashed his head against a metal door and continued to beat him even after he was dead.

Ahmed Badawy, an Egyptian activist and acquaintance of mine, went to the Internet cafe on Friday and interviewed its owner. The owner revealed that Khaled had been clearly targeted by the men who assaulted him, who blocked the doors of the cafe to prevent anyone entering.

Khaled's body was dumped outside his home later that evening.

The government's position:

The official statement from the Egyptian Ministry of Interior calls the story a "malicious allegation" which may "deliberately omit all the facts and persist in promoting lies and misinformation." The statement says Khaled swallowed a bag of narcotics and consequently died of asphyxiation. It also reveals that Khaled had been charged with two misdemeanors, stealing and possession of a weapon, in addition to harassment of a woman and dodging military service (compulsory in Egypt). Egyptian activists have questioned the reality of the charges.

The Ministry's statement does not address the dumping of Khaled's body outside his home, nor does it explain the disturbing images of his mangled skull. The images, which are extremely graphic and should be viewed with discretion, have been widely circulated and can be found here.

An article in government-run Al-Gomhuria insists the injuries to Khaled's face were caused during autopsy when his throat was cut open to remove the packet of hashish he had swallowed. The article calls the images' appearance on Facebook a "big surprise." It is a difficult explanation to accept after viewing the gruesome images.

Popular outcry

"If you oppose the government in Egypt, one of three things happens: one, you disappear. Two, you end up dead. Or three, you disappear and then you end up dead," an Egyptian friend cynically commented to me in casual conversation one day. To an extent, Khaled Said's story fits the model - and consequently is no different from others.

Yet Khaled's story is also fundamentally different.

Khaled's story has been publicized. Khaled "died amidst the shock and silence of everyone," wrote Ayman Nour on Thursday. Nour, along with Egyptian paper el-Shorouq, was the first to break the story nearly four days after Khaled's death. Since then, it has flooded Egyptian activist circles, independent media, and Facebook inboxes. There is no longer silence surrounding Khaled's death.

The incident has drawn an outcry from Egyptians, including many who are normally inactive in politics. A Facebook group called My Name is Khaled Mohammed Said has drawn more than 110,000 members over the past three days - the group grew by nearly 3,000 members in the time it took me to write this post - and an event calling for a protest in front of the Ministry of Interior on Sunday, June 13 has nearly 5,000 confirmed attendees.

Scores of Egyptians have changed their profile pictures to images of Khaled, such as the one at the top of this post.

A protest yesterday in Alexandria drew around 1,000 people according to blogger and activist Mohamed Abdelfattah, who attended the protest, and well-known blogger Zeinobia says police dared not come close to the demonstrators for fear of increasing their anger.

"This could happen to anyone."

Despite a general consensus that Egyptian police were responsible for his death, Khaled's story still falls outside my friend's generalization: Khaled was not political. According to the New York Times article, Khaled was intent on publicizing the video he had come to possess, but he was not an activist. He was not opposing the government.

Khaled walked beside the wall, as an Egyptian would say, referring to one who minds his own business.

Despite "walking beside the wall," Khaled was killed by a police force imbued with the power of the Emergency Law, a cause of concern for other young Egyptians. "He didn't look for trouble, yet corruption killed him anyway," said my friend Hatem, a 22-year-old Egyptian currently studying for his Master's degree. "Maybe they've done worse things before, but this directly threatens me: this is a young guy who comes from almost the same background as me and most of my friends. He does the same things that I do. He stays out of trouble. And yet - this. You know?" he told me.

For Hatem, Khaled's death means "this could happen to anyone."

Questions which remain

Nearly a week after Khaled's death, many questions remain. How did Khaled come into possession of the video for which he was supposedly killed? The video was clearly filmed by someone trusted in the room, someone who almost certainly was not Khaled. So was he given the video, or did he somehow happen across it?

What will the government's response be? Will the officers in question be charged with corruption, if not murder? Or will they walk away unscathed? According to a post by Mohamed Abdelfattah, this was not the first act of brutality committed by one of the men who assaulted Khaled (please note, link contains graphic images).

It would seemingly be easier to let the officers take the fall for Khaled's death in the face of the current media onslaught, but there has been no indication thus far that the government intends to make such a move. Why is the regime letting Khaled's death become a rallying point, instead of meting out some form of justice which might placate activists? In some ways this is only the most recent incident hinting at growing discord within the regime.

Khaled's death is drawing attention. What will Egyptians do about it? There have been calls of "revolution" since Kefaya's first demonstration in 2005, but the said revolution has yet to materialize. Even so, 2010 has seen increasing numbers of protests and increasing numbers of protesters. This week, Egyptians already angered by Israel's assault on the aid convoy headed for Gaza quickly took up the cause of one of their own. If Alexandria's demonstration was any indication, tomorrow's protest in Cairo could bring thousands of Egyptians to the streets.

What's next, Egypt?

For more information in English, please visit:

Amnesty

Human Rights First

Global Voices

Al-Masry Al-Youm

Traveler Within blog

14 types of salad and heated toilet seats for Argentina

While some nations have kept their World Cup hotel requests relatively simple - hot coffee and cookies for the Brazilians and table tennis tables and a dart board for the Slovakians - Argentina's list of demands tops all others.

According to this article from AP, the Argentinian team requires 6 playstations and the following food at every meal:

• 10 hot dishes every day and 14 different salads at every meal;
• 3 different pasta sauces with each meal and at least 3 puddings (incidentally, the Italians are of course bringing their own pasta);
• Braai (type of meat) once in 3 days;
• Ice cream available all day.

Apparently sinks and toilets were also replaced in two bathrooms reserved for the team's coach:

New wash basins, toilet bowls, cisterns, taps and E-Bidet toilet seats -- which sandman.com calls "the world’s best toilet seat" -- have been installed. The $450 chair comes heated with a warm air blow-dryer and two-setting bidet. - NESN.com

Go figure.

Stolen passport nearly leads to deportation in Rome

On Wednesday, my good friend went to the police to report that his passport and permisso di soggiorno (permit to live in Italy) had been stolen. He's Sudanese, but carries a diplomatic passport and studies with me at the the American university here. He's lived in Rome for five years.

Once he finished filing the police report, the police told him, "Ok, so since you don't have any documents, we're going to arrest you now."

My friend was baffled. He was put into a police car and driven to an immigrant detention center outside of the city.

"Can I have my phone call now?" he asked.

"No."

He was placed in a holding cell and kept there for around five hours. After a while, he started talking to some of the other detainees, to pass the time. One of them is Ukrainian. "So, what are you in here for?" my friend asks.

"Oh, I raped a girl."

That ended the conversation.

My friend tried unsuccessfully to get the guards to let him out or at least give him a phone call. "I'm not a criminal!" he told them. "I've done nothing wrong!"

They refused.

Finally, they told him he would be deported. He was told to leave the country within fifteen days and was forbidden to return to the European Union for five years and from setting foot on Italian soil for ten. They made him sign his deportation papers.

Then they let him go. But they don't tell him how to get home - they just let him out of the detention center somewhere outside the city at around 10pm.

The next morning he went to the Sudanese Embassy, which told him it could help but that this should be his last resort, and his university should deal with it. So he came back to the university and the guy in Student Life, God bless him, made one phone call and sorted the whole issue out. My friend was no longer required to leave the country, and what's more, he now had the right to sue the police.

I wish I could say this was a fluke case in Italy, but that wouldn't be true. In the northern part of the country, the Lega Nord runs (successfully, I might add) on a political platform which calls for kicking out all the immigrants. Some of its propaganda uses images of Native Americans and says the immigrants will soon force Italians onto reservations. Already, the Lega Nord has outlawed the opening of foreign food restaurants in areas where it has significant influence (the law is aimed mostly at kebab shops).

This is the reality of being a minority, particularly black and Arab, in Italy. Trying to work within the framework of the law to report stolen identity documents nearly results in one's deportation for failure to possess said documents. In reality, the relationship between the people and the state and the police is similarly dysfunctional across the Mediterranean. Take a look at what's happening now in Greece for another example: I've heard transcriptions of confrontations with police which are eerily similar to situations I've seen or heard about in Egypt.

Perhaps the advantage of being on this side of the Mediterranean, and attempting to be 'European,' is that my friend now has the right to sue the police, and can do so without fear of repercussion. He now has the law on his side.