children of balata refugee camp

yesterday we paid a visit to balata, one of the three refugee camps in the nablus area.  it’s the biggest camp in the west bank with a population of about 25,000 people, all of whom are densely packed into an area of less than two square kilometers (about one and a half square miles).

the refugees in balata came from 60 villages and the cities of lydd (lod), jaffa (tel aviv) and ramleh (ramla). many are of bedouin origin.  in 1950, the united nations gave the refugees temporary housing on the same area of land which comprises today’s balata camp.  in 1956, more permanent housing structures were built, constructed to fit into the exact area of the tents which preceded them.

i heard through the grapevine that balata is the kind of place you don’t go unaccompanied as a foreigner.  when we visited yesterday, i was glad to be with two palestinian guides.

as we started our tour a woman grasped my elbow and said “how do you see our camp?” she stared hard into my eyes, challenging me.  i told her, simply, that it was unbelievable.  i also told her that i continue to be shocked by what i learn and see everyday in nablus and the camps in the area, and that i hope to educate the american people about the real situation here.  she seemed satisfied, and although i would have loved to have a longer conversation with her, we had to continue our tour.

the space between buildings in the camp is so narrow i could extend my arms to touch a building on either side.  after squeezing between housing structures and walking past a cemetery, our guide, mohammed, invited us for tea in his home.  we crammed into a tiny room in what i think was the front of his house and chatted about the camp.  he apologized profusely for being what he described as confused and unfocused.  it seems his mother passed away last week and he was still grieving quite heavily, understandably.

he also talked with us about his brother, pointing at a commemorative picture on the wall, the lone item of decoration in the room.

mohammed’s 16-year-old brother was making tea with a friend on the roof of their home in 2006 when he was shot in the neck by the israeli defense forces (idf).  a single bullet went through both friends, killing them instantly. mohammed joked with us, saying to be careful from now on because making shai (tea) is obviously very dangerous and threatening.  he made this remark as he unwrapped his brother’s blood-stained shirts and held them up for us to see.  one was a white t-shirt, and the other was a nice button-down shirt.  both had large blood stains on the neck and shoulder.

after enjoying the standard palestinian sugar with tea (i think for each small cup of tea that i drink here, there must be at least six spoonfuls of sugar), we made our way to the happy childhood center.  it was good to finish the tour with a positive note for the future.  the center provides after-school programs and workshops for children and young adults in balata.  the aim is to give kids a chance to gain art, language and life skills and to relieve stress, all the while making good use of their free time.

when it was time to leave balata i didn’t feel ready.  i only touched the surface of the camp, and hope to return again soon.

child in balata refugee camp, the west bank

a sliver of blue sky between two housing structures, balata refugee camp, the west bank

children and graffiti, balata refugee camp, west bank

the space between two housing structures, balata refugee camp, west bank

torn martyr poster and graffiti, balata refugee camp, the west bank

children on the path between housing structures, balata refugee camp, the west bank

balata refugee camp, the dense knot of structures, as seen from mount gerzim, the west bank

sources:

http://www.un.org/unrwa/refugees/westbank/balata.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balata