Winding down…
Audrey and I finished out last day of work in Nablus last Thursday. As I packed up all my things the night before, I tried to wrap my head around my experience. It went by so quickly and I have so many different thoughts running through my head. My last day of work was great and also really upsetting. I couldn’t do anything in my month here to significantly change their situation. Wafaa, a Canadian volunteer I worked with at the camp, told me how she views the kids. For Eid, Muslim families will keep a sheep in their house, almost as a pet, for a week before they slaughter it to celebrate the end of Ramadan. She felt as though the children are like the sheep - something you love and enjoy, but with the realization in the back of your mind that nothing good is coming for it. It was so saddening to realize that I agreed with that comparison. These kids are momentarily happy in summer camp, drawing and having water balloon fights and a sense of normalcy. But best-case scenario they grow up to not die, to live through the occupation chipping away at their dignity and their life’s potential, and to raise kids knowing that their children will go through the same process.
I felt so mixed up watching the kids in their elated state during my last day. They were showing off their drawings of the Dome of the Rock, their houses with Palestinian flags on top, princesses, cows, oceans… At the same time, one or two would get extremely angry with me if I didn’t take a picture of them with their artwork. Despite the facade of normalcy, these children deal with psychological and emotional issues that waver right beneath the surface. What’s going to happen to them? What will they be like when they grow up? Will he work at the falafel stand down the street? How soon will she be married? Who will be the one to stand up and fight? Will he fight with education or with a gun? How soon will be the next Israeli invasion, and who will survive it? I felt so helpless.
Living here means adapting to the realities of the occupation. I accepted the little struggles and got used to not noticing them. People here just want a normal life, so most simply accept the daily struggles and give up the fight. As I walked home from camp with Yezan, my local translator, I felt such an appreciation for the optimism and selflessness he possesses. It’s amazing that he and the other local volunteers give back, even when it seems like no change is coming. It may not be changing the entire political situation here, but these kids need people like him.
