1) Fuad. It means "heart."
2) Report from battered Olive Harveser in Yanoun
3) Imagine
4) Negotiating the Olive Harvest
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1) Fuad. It means “heart.”
The ambulance was on its way to pick up a patient in the East Side of Jenin when the dispatcher put out an urgent call that someone had been wounded in that neighborhood. “Wounded” inevitably means “attacked by the military power that dominates the population.” House numbers are rare so the ambulance usually finds a patient by asking people on the street to direct him to a landmark. This time was different. At every corner of the route winding uphill, clusters of people were pointing out the direction and urging us to hurry. We reached the site of the attack, and stopped the ambulance about six metres from the body which had fallen to the ground. As we jumped from the ambulance and ran to him on the crest of the hill, three soldiers identifiable by their identical olive uniforms appeared running up from the other side of the hill. Suddenly I felt it was a race, and it was important to win it. The ambulance workers and the army reached the body simultaneously, and I could see now that this was a young man lying motionless at our feet. We did not yet know if there was life in him. The soldier closest to the body seemed crazed. Hysteria overtook him as he seemed to claim his booty: “Where is the weapon? Where is the weapon?” he yelled repeatedly in Arabic to the stunned old man coming from the house to see what had happened, leaning on his cane.
2) Report from battered Olive Harveser in Yanoun
3) Imagine
4) Negotiating the Olive Harvest
=====================
1) Fuad. It means “heart.”
The ambulance was on its way to pick up a patient in the East Side of Jenin when the dispatcher put out an urgent call that someone had been wounded in that neighborhood. “Wounded” inevitably means “attacked by the military power that dominates the population.” House numbers are rare so the ambulance usually finds a patient by asking people on the street to direct him to a landmark. This time was different. At every corner of the route winding uphill, clusters of people were pointing out the direction and urging us to hurry. We reached the site of the attack, and stopped the ambulance about six metres from the body which had fallen to the ground. As we jumped from the ambulance and ran to him on the crest of the hill, three soldiers identifiable by their identical olive uniforms appeared running up from the other side of the hill. Suddenly I felt it was a race, and it was important to win it. The ambulance workers and the army reached the body simultaneously, and I could see now that this was a young man lying motionless at our feet. We did not yet know if there was life in him. The soldier closest to the body seemed crazed. Hysteria overtook him as he seemed to claim his booty: “Where is the weapon? Where is the weapon?” he yelled repeatedly in Arabic to the stunned old man coming from the house to see what had happened, leaning on his cane.