A Doctor and His Son

A DOCTOR AND HIS SON

Salim Anati is a Palestinian doctor who could have chosen to live a comfortable life in an untroubled part of the world.  However, in 1987, 2 years after finishing medical school in Romania, his life took on a determined course after the first Intifada broke out.  A fourteen year old cousin was killed, and as he said, “This event stopped me.”  His realization at that time was that “it’s better to remain here to help my people.”  Opening a clinic in his home was the way he chose to serve the people of Shu’fat refugee camp.  From his living room clinic he saw 70 – 100 patients a day.

Over the years he has worked in a number of capacities in the medical field.  He is a well- respected and influential man with many international connections.   Among many other responsibilities, he is the director of the board for the Shu’fat community center and school, serving children and also providing work for women in the area.  It is through volunteering at the center that I first got to know him.

On a recent visit in his home, I met with him and his son and heard the following story, part of which was gleaned from an email he wrote:

Dr. Anati’s 19 yr. old son, Ahmad, was returning home from the university one day on a public bus.   There were a number of other students on the bus at the time that it was stopped at what is called a “flying checkpoint,” a spontaneous checkpoint set up anywhere and anytime that the military chooses.  From the bus about 20 young males, all from Shu’fat, were told to get off.  There was some yelling and pushing by the soldiers and after he was off the bus Ahmad was asked to empty everything out of his pockets and he was searched.  The young male soldier used some crude language and said to him,  “I will show you my muscles.  Let’s box, man to man.”  Ahmad said he didn’t want anything to do with that.  At that point the soldier wrote out a report in Hebrew.  Ahmad does not read Hebrew.  He was told to sign the paper.  He reports than when he refused the soldier said, “Sign it or I will spray pepper gas on your face and I will beat you and take you to jail.”  At that point he signed, not knowing what he was signing, but feeling that he had no choice.  He and the other young men were then taken to the police station.

Ahmad

Ahmad was kept at the station while his dad waited for him outside, but could not be with him.  After 5 hours an Israeli police officer came and “took me to her room and she brought a recorder and someone to translate. She started asking me questions about what happened and why I was here and everything was recorded. Then in the end she said, ‘If you are innocent then why did the soldier bring you here!?’  I told her ‘I don’t know. Go ask him!’ Then she asked me, ‘Do you know what your charges are?’  I said ‘No.’  She said, ‘You are accused of beating a soldier and refusing (to be under) arrest.’”  It seems that he signed that he had beaten up the officer. He says that almost all the others were charged with the same thing.

Dr. Anati’s comments were, “They don’t think about the consequences on the youth, how that stirs up anger in them. They want them to think about emigration or leaving the country.  Most of them will leave.”  Also, since this has happened his father says that Ahmad now has a file opened on him and he says that when he is finished with college he will be refused work in Jerusalem because of it.

As in other situations of injustice that we have encountered, the family is eager to have the world know about what is happening.  “Please, tell the world.  Tell everyone.”  When I asked Ahmad if this was pretty frustrating, he said that it makes him not only frustrated, but also very nervous.  While you and I hear about this and think about it briefly, for Ahmad “it is something I think about every day.”

Impressions from a demolition

Our morning plans were interrupted by a text from the UN informing us that there was a house demolition in progress in a neighborhood here in East Jerusalem.  In wanting to accompany people, especially in times of distress, we felt it was important to get there as quickly as possible.  The taxi ride was slower than we hoped as traffic was pretty gnarled, but within 20 minutes we were climbing out of the taxi to walk the extra few blocks past a police barricade.  Walking down the hill, we encountered an earth moving machine and 25 to 40 police leaving the scene.

Police and earthmover leaving

Having heard that demolitions can happen in as little as15 minutes, I assumed we would just find a pile of rubble and dust.   What we found was very different than I expected.

To describe the housing situation for a large part of the Palestinian population in East Jerusalem and the West Bank, I’ll start by saying it is very difficult.  People may have owned land for generations and may have all the proper deeds to the land, but still find it impossible to legally build on their land or obtain permits for even the smallest addition or structural change.  Not infrequently people spend years and sometimes much money trying to get permits, only to finally resort to building without a permit.  It is virtually impossible for the average Palestinian to obtain a building permit.  In many sections of East Jerusalem, Jewish settlers have been buying properties, often by dubious means, and moving into houses where evictions have taken place.   It is no secret that laws are not applied equally to Palestinian and Israeli citizens.

The house in question was built on land with a beautiful view of the Mt. of Olives, and as we were told, had been in the family for several generations.  It was built without a permit, using two containers that were connected, supported by posts but also sitting on a truck.

Mr. & Mrs. Subah's house being demolished.

The family’s understanding was that by law if it could be moved a certain amount it was legal.  For six years this approximately 500 sq. foot structure was home to Musa and Aida Subah and their family, now numbering 13: the parents, their 4 sons and 3 daughters, 2 daughters-in-law, and 2 granddaughters.  Though rudimentary on the outside, it was pleasant on the inside with attractive tile flooring, a refrigerator, bedrooms and a living room, an air conditioner, plumbing and electricity.

What we saw as we approached was a house with the front ripped off, the floor torn through and the stairs dismantled; all the contents were on the ground outside; the floor tiles had been neatly piled on the ground; and most surprising, about 5 strong-bodied family members were whacking at the ceiling and tearing at walls to further tear it down.  The house was being demolished by the family!

Two days earlier the Subahs had been notified by the municipality that their house was scheduled for demolition.  Within those two days they had to pay fines of 20,000 NIS (shekels equaling more than $6,000).  On this day the police and earth mover had shown up on their property for the demolition.  Those had come and gone, maybe satisfied to see that the family was in the process of taking down the house themselves.  At any rate, they were only given 24 – 48 hrs. to have the land totally cleared of all evidence of a house or their belongings.  If the police come back to an unfinished demolition, the family will be charged either 20,000 NIS more (or other team members heard 100,000 NIS, about $33,000) and the father would be sent to jail.

Besides family and some youth who got shooed away, there were a few others besides our team of four, including a tv cameraman, UN people interviewing the couple, and a man named Fakhri who is very active in another threatened neighborhood, Silwan.

Needless to say, this was a terrible hardship for Mr. & Mrs. Subah.  I cannot imagine how it felt to have to pay enormous fines as well as destroy their own home.  They said that after things calm down they will probably put up a tent on their land; as a temporary structure it can also be demolished, but would not be that difficult to put up again.  What effect does this have on children?   One day they have a secure house, the next day coming home from school, they stare with vacant eyes at the wreckage that was home.

The family was gracious.  The parents agreed to be photographed by us and were glad to answer our questions.  As we left, Musa said, “Thanks for coming.  Pray for us. We have no home.  I will be alone.”  He was grateful that we would tell his story.  (written 21 Dec ’10)

Musa and Aida Subah

PART II

Today, nine days later, our team decided to revisit the Subah family.  More surprises were in store!  As we walked down the hill once again toward their property, I fully expected that the land would be completely cleared and that we would need to ask around the neighborhood in order to locate the family.  Instead, when we got to their lot we saw three good-sized tents firmly staked.

three tents on the Subah land

We approached the tents, calling out to see if anyone was home.  Soon a very smiley Aida appeared, greeting us enthusiastically with hugs and kisses on both cheeks.   She invited us into a very cozy “room”, complete with carpet, 4 beds, a heater, a gas burning stove and a table.  Within minutes, in typical Palestinian graciousness, we were being served tea.  As Aida and our teammate Maria chatted animatedly in Arabic, we learned that

Aida and Maria with being prepared

many of their needs had been taken care of through the UN and the Red Cross.  It seemed that along with tents being provided, they were also given gas burners, heaters, blankets, and the ability to stay on their own land.

There was evidence all around that the family and extended family had worked very hard and done what they could to make the best of the situation.  First of all, they managed to follow through with the self-demolition, a daunting task.  Furniture had been moved into the tents; one tent had been turned into a kitchen, complete with refrigerator and cupboards with countertops; blankets had been hung on the walls of the tents, warding off some of the cold and adding to the sense that a home had been made.

Best of all was seeing the resiliency and undertone of joyful living: father and sons returning to work; warmth and laughter with neighbors stopping by; and turning outside of themselves to provide a great celebration as they fling open their hearts to neighbors, friends and family in an invitation to a grand feast on New Year’s Eve!

Musa had asked for prayer.  God had answered with bringing much assistance and hope to the family.  Can we pray that on a bigger scale some of the injustices would be stopped that bring on this misery and hardship for so many people?  (written 30 Dec ’10)

Part III

These things are not simple.  On New Years Eve when the Subahs were to have their party, we had tremendous rains.  The rain has been badly needed here, but was not a good thing for their party.  I doubt that they had it.

The crowning disappointment came later with the news that the Subah family had been given notice to remove their tents in five days.  What will be next? (written 1 Jan ’11)

First Impressions

It is unbelievable that we have only been in country for 4 full days.  There is so much that has happened.  Here are some first impressions: 

 Weather:   It is gorgeous; days and nights are cool, but only light sweaters are needed;  blue, blue sky.  After several very pleasant days it is starting to get cold;  rain is badly needed for the farmers.

Beauty:  Incredible!  We immediately noticed the palm trees, bouganvilleas (tropical), roses, geraniums, lots of flowers.  Some stone buildings are hundreds of years old and even new buildings are made to look old.  Contrasts – Palestinian area of what is called the Old City is like street markets in Latin America except that almost anything can be bought there, as well as foods and of course the necessary trinkets.  Jewish areas of the Old City are much quieter and cleaner – not nearly as many people or general hubbub.  Other parts of Jerusalem have a similar feeling of contrast:  Less infrastructure in the way of garbage pickup and maintained streets and more poor housing in the Palestinian areas;  more beautiful, well-maintained buildings, comfortable streets, and new structures being built in the Israeli portion.  Both areas in general seem to be very safe even for a woman.    Some houses, businesses and hotels have a courtyard in the middle,  full of flowering plants, even in December. Space below the building is often utilized in the way of extra rooms deep down into the earth – equivalent to two stories down, unlike our more shallow basements in the US.  So, there are a lot of things that are charmingly different than we are used to. 

EAPPI team:  Of our group of 25 people, ages range from 26-73 and come from a great variety of backgrounds:  journalists, former teachers, professors, researchers, politicians, theology students, pastor, homemaker.  It is fascinating how all these Europeans (three fourths of the group) can speak English so well and often another language besides.   

A few of our activities so far:  After a day to rest and see the city a bit, we had some training and orientation to the program and then were sent to be with the outgoing team from each of our placements.  There are 6 teams in different locations throughout the West Bank and East Jerusalem.  Wayne is in a tiny town of about 35 adults and 100 people total.  I am in Jerusalem.  Here are two vignettes from my last two days:

At a checkpoint in the early morning, we counted how many people were getting through the turnstiles every half hour.  The long lines of Palestinians waiting to get through to the Israeli side were pretty orderly.  Nonetheless, we saw and heard some frustration over the fact that it was taking an hour or more to get through the first turnstile, and once that was accomplished they had to wait for entry to a second in order to actually go through security.  Those lines were sometimes so frustratingly slow that men would yell and pound on the window, often to no avail.  Besides counting, our roles were to call an Israeli hotline when the lines were not moving, talk to people, and generally be an encouragement, as it is widely reported that when we are there, the lines go faster.  Since it was Friday, many of the Muslims on that day were trying to go to the Mosque for prayer.  Friday is not a work day in the Muslim community, so the crowd was smaller and quicker, I am told.  We are going back tomorrow to have a more typical experience at the crossing. 

Today, in a much different vein, we took a bus to a Bedouin community right outside of Bethany, about a half hour away by bus.  Looking at the countryside I was captivated by the thought of Jesus walking that dusty, rocky, hilly area on his way to Jerusalem, knowing he would soon be crucified.  Besides buildings and roads the basic terrain has probably not changed that much. 

We met with a very sweet, joy-filled university educated woman, who spent her first ten years in a typical Bedouin nomadic lifestyle of moving several times a year to take their animals to fresh ground and to get off the hill tops in the winters so that they would be spared from some of the cold winds.  She talked of how difficult it was for her parents when they were forced by the Israeli government to leave their lifestyle and move to a village where they were given 40 yr. permits for the house they built.  No one knows what will happen after that.  Her father never did adjust to living in a house, choosing to live outside as much as possible, cooking and eating around an open fire outside.  He was afraid that electricity would ruin their eyes, as his were accustomed only to the lights at night of a fire and the moon.  After talking with her we met outside with a group of six teenage girls for an English lesson.  They were very enthusiastic and fun.  

Next week we will once again join the whole group for further training here in Jerusalem.

Getting Ready

As Wayne and I prepare for this much-anticipated 3 month trip, we are finding a very steep learning curve:  meeting with people who have been to Israel/Palestine, reading books, watching movies and documentaries, talking, talking, talking, and processing all that has been coming in.

Admittedly, if it were not for Wayne  I would not have pursued being involved in a venture so filled with political/theological/historical implications.  Though I will never excel in those areas, I am finding my place in that I care  about people, I care for those that are hurting, I want to be a listening ear, and increasingly, I want to be a  voice.

A confirmation about my involvement has been that often (more than a dozen times in recent months)  my Bible has opened directly to Isaiah 58.  Verse 6  reads:  (God speaking through Isaiah)

“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:  to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?”

This I look forward to…doing my small part of seeing people set free in whatever ways God will use me and with whomever He chooses.   May I love deeply.