Sderot - a second visit
It was like any other street in a small suburban town. The 
sun was shining and the gardens along the way were filled with flowering shrubs and plants. But this was not just any Israeli town. It was Sderot, the town, which, since April 2001 has suffered 2,994 rocket attacks from Palestinian militant groups in the Gaza Strip, a mere three kilometres away. According to the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs, since the beginning of this year alone, 694 rockets have fallen on Sderot. In the last seven years, 13 people, including three children have been killed and 900 have been injured.
The exterior of a rocket shelter in Sderot, Israel. (photo credit: John Friend-Pereira/Eappi)
Our Israeli guide lead us into the garden of a small single-storey house. The garden was piled high with many of the household items and personal belongings of the family. Inside the house we were shown the circular hole in the ceiling, which showed clearly where the rocket had entered the living room, and the extensive damage caused to the roof and ceiling.
The house belonged to an Israeli couple in their seventies. They have lived many years in Sderot and raised their children and grandchildren there. It was fortunate indeed that no one was physically injured, although the grandmother was traumatised and needed hospital treatment. By any standard this was a shocking sight. We asked about compensation and it seems that they will receive some help with rebuilding costs but maybe not the whole amount. Many of the residents of Sderot are Jewish immigrants from North Africa and come from the lower socio-economic groups. They have few resources to fall back on if disaster strikes.
Before we visited this house we had seen the large collection of rockets held in the local police station. The rockets are largely made of pipes and scrap metal, using fertilizer or other readily available materials as explosive. They have a limited range and are certainly not accurate, but they are capable of reaching Sderot, which means that they target civilians. There is a warning siren, but this only gives 15 seconds to seek cover and some schools and houses have no shelter. Recently, some bus shelters have been reinforced for protection.
While we were still at the house, a mother of three came to tell us the stress of living in Sderot. She told us of the high anxiety levels suffered by many people, especially mothers, as they wave goodbye to their children in the morning. Many adults suffer stress-related illnesses and many children receive counselling.
Our group of eight Ecumenical Accompaniers stood in a mute semi-circle under the caved-in roof, as we listened to the woman with minds still full of Palestinian checkpoints, daily humiliations, house demolitions and all the other manifestations of the Israeli occupation. The woman tried to break the silence. She accused the Palestinians of lying about the cuts in the electricity supplies in Gaza. She said that the Israelis had given them land, but they were prepared to “bite the hand that feeds them.”
Over lunch with our guide, we were able to have a more measured conversation. We spoke with him about issues around the occupation and discussed the politics of the conflict. But for her, totally involved in the problems of Sderot, it was difficult to take in the situation of the Palestinians. We invited her to come and visit us in Tulkarem in the occupied Palestinian Territories.
Tulkarem Youth
You don't have to be in the West Bank for very long to realise that this is a very young society. This is certainly true of Tulkarem where the average size of family is about six or seven children. There are two universities in Tulkarem, the Khadoorie University, which began life as an agricultural college and Al Quds Open University. Between them, these two universities cater for several thousand students, while many more go further afield to the prestigious An-Najah University in Nablus. We meet many of them at the Beit Iba checkpoint on the outskirts of Nablus, where there are often queues at times when they are most anxious to get to lectures.
One of our team has developed a particular rapport with the young male students in Tulkarem and as a consequence a number of them visit our apartment in the evenings. We also have contact with the women students via our English conversation classes. They are all very keen to have contact with foreigners and to share their dreams of travel and their hopes for Palestine.
A very high percentage of young people go on to university, not least because there is no work and further education at least keeps them occupied for a further two or three years. The worry is, however, that when they graduate there is literally nothing for them to do. The cafes are often filled with young men whiling away the hours, drinking coffee and smoking ‘nargila’, the hubble-bubble. They tell us that they want to work. Their families are already poor, so their contribution is much needed. Some eventually seek work abroad, usually in one of the Gulf states and a few try to cross illegally into Israel, prepared to face the consequences if they are caught.
In recent weeks, I have attended various groups and events addressing womens' issues. It's been interesting to 
hear them discussing issues of family violence, divorce and other gender-based inequalities in a male-dominated society. But for women, although the occupation affects their daily lives, within a domestic setting, they still have a clearly defined role in relation to caring for the family.
As we talk to the students and young people of Tulkarem, we hear their dreams for the future, but also their deep sense of despair and hopelessness. Many have said they see no future for themselves or their country. Their greatest hope is for an end to the occupation. They are realistic enough to know that it will not solve all their problems, but at least they would have greater freedom of movement, new hope and energy and new opportunities.
Children in Tulkarem Palestinian refugee camp.(photo credit: Ann Wright/eappi)
