Visiting the city of Hebron is a jarring experience. The center of the city has the eerie feeling of a ghost town yet there are people walking the streets. As if the city had been deserted and suddenly a small group of residents took over the whole place. The once thriving Arab shops are now boarded up and have graffiti of Jewish ownership on the doors (Stars of David spray painted on every shop door). Every 200 meters is an IDF checkpoint manned by two or three helpless Israeli boys not over the age of nineteen. It is grim.

How could anyone have a feeling of happiness in such a place? One can say that the Jews have a special relationship with Hebron but the situation of the ground there should make that person cringe. If you believe that Hebron has a special place in Jewish religious and historical perspective, like me, the current situation there should have you in tears. Yet, there are settlers who walk the streets of the city with pride and accomplishment written on their confused, violent faces.

Yesterday, Ta’ayush along with Breaking the Silence had a social gathering at the house of Issa Amro, the director of Youth Against Settlements and field member of Btselem. Issa’s house is nestled in a quiet grove in the center of the city surrounded by Jewish settlers. As we walked to his house we were stopped by two IDF units demanding to see a ‘permit’ to be in the area. For you see, if you are an Israeli Jew and not a settler, your freedom of movement in Hebron is limited. The Israeli government does not want anyone to see the reality of life in Hebron not even its own population. Solider after solider stopped us and told us that we could not be there and droves of young settler children surrounded us yelling, ‘you are not allowed to be here! You are not allowed to be here!” We just kept walking and finally made it to the house and the party.

The party was wonderful. We were Israelis and Palestinians together in the heart of the occupation having a barbeque and enjoying each other’s company. A more impossible situation I cannot imagine but we pulled it off. Despite the group of settlers who came to videotape what we were doing (Arabs and Jews socially eating together? What?). As well as a brief visit by Police officers who were sent to harass Ezra, the evening was a smashing success. We ended the night with a speech of two South African volunteers about their experience volunteering in the West Bank. They talked about their experience with nonviolence in South Africa and the hope that they have for us.

Earlier in the day, Mairav and I went with Ezra Nawi to the land of the Maharik family who were under threat of house demolition. The Maharik family are farmers and live in two places throughout the year depending on the season, a common practice among groups of farmers in the Southern West Bank. The IDF often harasses these types of people usually with little official permission. When we arrived to their land two International Red Cross workers were interviewing the land owner. The clearly marked Red Cross car was like a shield in front of the remaining tent.

The area where the family lives is between the settlement of Susya and Asahel right next to the IDF base Shani. According to the Red Cross members, the IDF had come, without a permit for house demolition, and destroyed two tents in the middle of the night. They informed the land owner that they would return and destroy the final structure but were not clear as to when. His entire family, almost thirteen children, was now living in one tent. Our goal and purpose was to be a presence when and if the IDF returned. We spent a calm afternoon with them in their remaining tent. Some internationals arrived in the early evening with plans to spend the night. As it stands now, the internationals are still there. Patiently acting like a presence.

The afternoon was spent playing with the children of the Maharik family who were happy for the strange visitors. They were dancing, laughing, and smiling like kids do. I was struck that they could, at any minute, be left without a home. It was encouraging to see their smiles and feel the resilience of children but I left them with a feeling of such deep sadness.

How these children must be scared when, in the middle of the night, the IDF comes to destroy their home? How this experience must affect the poor soldiers who are commanded to carry out the deed? Who wins in this situation? Who benefits from this?