Spring Team 05 Report "Encounter with Armed Settlers"

Spring Team 05 Report "Encounter with Armed Settlers"

Sunday, April 17, 2005 Qawawis, Occupied West Bank by Henry (an American Jew from Ann Arbor)

Qawawia is the tiny village in the southern most part of the Occupied West Bank, and is surrounded by the illegal colony of Susiya, and two illegal (even by Israeli standards) outposts; Amara Eis and Am Shukan.

JH and I from the Michigan Peace Team joined Kaspar from Denmark, to relieve the members of the International Solidarity Movement stationed in the village last Thursday, and today is our first experience with electricity and warm water since. But what we left behind in this lovely village is not worth modern day conveniences: we left behind wonderful, loving people, and a lifestyle that is difficult to match.

There is one house in the village, two large tents, and many inhabitable caves, in which we received most of our meals: three squares a day, and we constantly disappointed our hosts with our scant appetites. "Eat, eat!" was their response to our broken Arabic: "Lah, shukron! - Halas!".

We slept in the house of HK and his wife A, and their children and grandkids. Yasir is their son, Atof, their daughter; Delal is Yasir's wife and the mother of their 4 children, age descending: Deanna, Jumanna, Sefanna, and 2-month old Shehad.

The love these parents, grandparents and relative showed the children was wonderful to behold, and puts an easy lie to the claim that Palestinians hate Jews more than they love their children. Our pictures - if we can get them out - will support the claims that these kids are loved every minute of the day. After dinner, the three children wrapped themselves in their daddy's arms as he held forth in an Arabic-only discussion. The three gringos nodded at what we felt were the appropriate times. As each child succumbed to sleep, Mom came in and peeled them away from Dad to take them to the sleeping room. Last was 6-yr-old Deanna, who was wrapped with her father in a large blanket until her time came to be moved. Someone should tell the families of Qawawis this is no way to raise terrorists.

Four or Five herds of sheep and goats went out twice a day to graze -about 3 hours each time, and the duty of us three internationals was to either keep the herds in sight, or stay close to the home and village. The village has been subjected to wanton violence from local settlers, and internationals have been beaten recently, and suffered insult to injury when the "police" showed up -only to arrest the internationals! In spite of having charges dropped by an understanding judge, Kasper thinks he will never again be allowed to pass Israeli security, due to his "arrest" last week.

A few times our services were needed. The army dropped by on Thursday to inform the shepherds they were grazing too close to the road, which is not an accurate determination of the court's verdict, but like Tony Soprano, they have the guns.

Settlers also have the guns, and two young women in summer dresses accompanied their Uzi-toting male friend to waltz around "their" land despite the recent rulings. Kaspar initially confronted his Zionist peers (in age only) and explained that the villagers are very nervous about their gun, and would they please leave the property directly. The women explained that they were out for a Shabbat afternoon walk, and followed a path of their own choosing, as Kasper phone the local DCO - Israeli district police. He waited by the roadway, leaving JH and I to track the trespassers. Keeping a safe (??) distance of about 150 yards - anybody know the range of an Uzi? - we followed them for what seemed forever as they walk the vast expanse of the village, up rocky hillside, then down into the wheat valley. JH and I tried to stay in sight contact, since my phone's batteries had long given up the ghost, as he stayed in phone contact with K. After losing contact with the three violators, we looped around back and met yet another shepherd, whose wife was eager to bring out more tea, while we waited even longer for the police. It had already been over a half hour, and they never did arrive. "They don't care" explained peace activist Simon, who showed up in a small pickup driven by local peace hero Ezra.

Well into my second glass of tea, the three walkers showed up again, and headed back towards the section they arrived, clearly showing their arms to the locals. Hadj Mohammed (shepherd) wanted us to call the police again, and we obliged. JH and I again trailed the armed youngsters, and they apparently made their way back to Susiya.

Taunting villagers must be common sport. A lurking army jeep planted itself on the property Friday evening, and when K and I went to investigate, the soldiers claimed they were "having coffee". Six of them.

And their leader wanted a political joust with K, who intelligently demurred, leaving the role of bantam barrister up to yours truly. Claiming that despite their rifles, they come in peace (would he have given me the rifle to hold, since it was "not an issue"?), he proceeded to lose every single argument he held forth, then decided to save face by saying that if we (after I explained my Jewish identity) got into "trouble" with the villagers, he would not longer come to "rescue" us.