Christmas Greetings from Jerusalem

Christmas Greetings from Jerusalem
December 25, 2002

Merry Christmas, everyone!

I spent the holiday in Bethlehem and Ramallah visiting friends that I haven't seen since getting back. It was pretty rainy--last Friday Hebron had a waist-deep flash flood.

I leave to Amman then Baghdad in the morning and plan to be back by the 10th. I'm really glad I got to see that the ELCA bishop got a meeting with Bush and told it like it was.

Favorite Quote for the year: (found on a visitor’s T-shirt)

"If they come for the innocent
without stepping over your body,
cursed be your religion and your life."

Le Anne

On Childbearing in Times of War

On Childbearing in Times of War
December 12, 2002

Hi everyone,

My next assignment in Iraq has been delayed until December 26--January 10. I'm looking forward to getting another Christmas in Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and Ramallah, and the Thaljiehs and Tannouses won't be so disappointed, though I would have found
Christmas in Baghdad beyond amazing. I wonder how New Year's will be.

If you want to see what made my week, check out http://www.wartburg.edu and read a few back issues of the Wartburg Trumpet. I was so excited by all the student activism against the war and open debate of our devastating foreign policy, the awareness of our world generated on a small Iowa Lutheran college campus that I call home, I almost cried. Much better than many days off for a war- weary human rights worker who sometimes wonders if there is any hope left.

Yesterday was a particularly hard time for our team. Two days ago good friends of ours, Atta and Rodeina Jaber, had armed settlers begin bulldozing their property to build settlement roads--200 yards from each side of their house, and along the crest of the hill their farmland and house are built on. Rodeina was two months pregnant, but the stress of the settlers' armed presence taking over their land proved too much and she began bleeding yesterday morning. Doctors Without Borders went out to their house and brought her in to the hospital where she miscarried. Today Atta is coming into town to bring her home and make funeral arrangements. The team is going out to visit them later this week.

These are the kinds of things that have the deepest emotional impact on me. Perhaps because so many of the mothers here are women my age. I keep telling myself that every olive tree, every grape vine can be replanted; and every house rebuilt. But it is the loss of life, particularly children that is so devastating and irreplaceable. It seems increasingly that having children is more an act of faith than nature when you're in a place where your children will innocently and violently die.

I think about adult sons, Palestinian and Israeli, too. Sons who choose to put their lives on the line. Of course, both sides say there is no choice. But if your son will not be there to harvest your fields or raise his family in your house because he joined the militias, what good is house or land? If your son is not there in your affluent suburb because he died maintaining the Occupation, what was the good of coming to Israel? I know both Palestinian and Israeli mothers, somehow deep down, know this also. Even when each side's propaganda machine tells them to be proud and their child died a hero. Death is not forever, but its memory lasts a lifetime. There is really so little in this life worth dying or killing for.

I think I wrote after the shootout here that we saw the bodies of the Palestinian fighters lying in the field, their bodies bloated by the hours and the sun. (The bodies of the Israeli fighters were evacuated in the night.) Looking at them, I knew that they knew they would die. They believed they were defending their country. And their ambush probably was well within the guidelines of "Just War" and international law, i.e., resisting Occupation forces by attacking armed combatants only, and firing on additional waves of firing soldiers as they approached before they themselves were shot. And yet when I looked at them I was overwhelmed with the thought, "What a waste." In the end, the ambush helped nothing. Just like the closures, curfews, assassinations, shelling, strafing, and missiles help nothing. I see everyday firsthand how violence is neither a creative nor productive means of resolving conflict. Instead, it only creates and produces waste. What a waste.

The hope I hold onto is when I hear that even in the Palestinian militias, this very topic is now a subject of open debate. The attacks continue, but the support dwindles ever steadily. The show of force has gained nothing towards independence. And did you know there are thousands of Israeli refuseniks? They dodged the draft by leaving Israel for the US or Europe or wherever else they had passports for. Of course, they would make a greater impact with their resisting presence here. But even in the papers, the Occupation is questioned more heavily each day. It's publicly known that very few Israelis are happy to send their children to defend lunatic settlers in Hebron these days.

I've got a long weekend of strategizing meetings and trainings for ISM in Ramallah and Bethlehem, then back to Heb-town for a few weeks and packing up for the big Iraq trek. I am slightly excited about an impending shopping spree--I have to get some dress duds before I return to Baghdad. I get excited over any departure from reality. You should see how excited I am about the Lord of the Rings movie coming out next week. Incidentally, I was informed by my teammates that I do a nice Hobbit impression when I puff out my cheeks....

Le Anne

Returning to Iraq?

Returning to Iraq?
December 6, 2002

Dear family and friends,

I received word yesterday that my teammate, Sister Anne Montgomery, and I will be traveling back to Iraq in ten days to help with the next large CPT delegation arriving. I think maybe this will be difficult news for those of you who were sighing in relief when I made it back to Hebron. I am looking forward to going, and have been looking forward to it since returning from the first trip. I have spent a lot of time preparing mentally, spiritually, and physically for the return trip and its possible consequences. I anticipate legal consequences from US authorities being more a potential problem than physical danger. The three invasions I have worked in are good preparation for physical dangers and recognition of my own limits in accompaniment and witness. I would welcome interview questions from interested press that you may be connected with, and ask for your prayers and support as I get ready to depart. For the time being, ‘Plan A’ is to
return to Hebron for a month before my return to the US in early February.

Peace,

Le Anne

Happy Thanksgiving from Hebron

Happy Thanksgiving from Hebron
November 30, 2002

Hi everyone,

Happy Thanksgiving! We had a delegation here and had nothing on the table which looked like traditional holiday food. I made maqlube ('upside down') chicken and rice; Mary made grated potato salad; and John made a lentil-egg bake. We've now been eating leftovers for the past two days so that is something our team is sharing in common with all of you. This is the first close encounter I've had with a raw chicken. It didn't seem like such a tough thing at the butcher shop, but when I got home and took it out of the bag there was still a chicken head attached. This was not a happy experience for myself. Kristin looked on in horrified fascination as I tried to figure out how to prepare the bird. Fortunately, there were experienced chicken-handlers on the delegation that came to the rescue. Yesterday was my first try at boiling chicken stock. That was much easier. Later we will have maqlube soup. Overall though, I think many of us on team will be extolling the virtues of vegetarian eating while on project for some time to come.

Things are thankfully quieting down in Hebron, we are not needed to stay with families near the new settlement quite as often as a few weeks ago. Curfew was lifted yesterday in the Old City and it sprang to life. We all went on shopping spree to stock up from our neighbors. This is the team's small-scale practice of economic justice. Sure, food is available in some neighborhoods any day of the week. But we try to wait on stocking up until our immediate neighbors are open so that they have some income in order to keep their shops in the neighborhood for the long haul. Only two shops still open on the souk road leading down to the Avraham Avinu settlement. When I first came here, there were at least fifteen shops and multiple fruit and vegetable vendors. Now it is a parking lot for settlers, heaps of razor wire, and a lonely alley.

Anyway, my shopping spree totals came to nearly $200 the other day. I thought about how common this is in a week's shopping for many families in the US at the supermarket or Wal-Mart; here it is more than most of our neighbors make in a month, sometimes two.

It is just now getting bitterly cold though the sun is out today. Yesterday's heavy rains and hail dropped the temperatures rapidly. Due to the curfews, we haven't been able to get gas tanks for our heaters, and are trying to conserve our cooking gas. It will be at least another week before gas is available to us. We're laying in more emergency supplies (non-perishables, etc.) now that we've experienced such a long and intense invasion. Again, it is possible to buy food in some shops far away from the office. But other families are competing for the supply, it's a long distance for heavy items, and it takes away from our other tasks and energies. (Like going to the store for our neighbors who cannot leave the house under curfew). Most of our neighbors do have stocks of some foodstuffs to last for months, but need bread and milk for children on a regular basis. Finally now, after some three weeks, the Red Cross has been allowed to distribute aid packages, and families have had some access to fresh food.

It was a real blessing throughout the invasion that our upstairs neighbor mom sent plates of Palestinian cooking down to us. Her daughter explained this was how she was coping with the curfews, by compulsive cooking. This was great for us--we were so tired or so few in the apartment come dinnertime that sometimes it was our dinner. Otherwise it was just a good morale booster. We try to keep up the neighborly ties by filling the empty plates with things they might not be able to get--like produce when we could find it, or sweets.

Now, it is time again to make supper here--heating up the soup, and then to clean the kitchen (my chore today) and then all of us are going to curl up in the the same room around our electric heater. While the weather has been turning, I've been getting back into my cross-stitch bag and back into the kitchen where I am happy to work over a hot range for a couple of hours in the afternoon. The conversation in the evenings is good and the pace is slowed. I realize how grateful I am to experience this kind of living, which is now so foreign in the U.S. I hope I will be able to maintain it when I return. Although, I think it is a major reason I may not spend much time in the U.S. after seminary. Our hurried pace does not fulfill us, and our families and friends are lost in the rush.

I've spent a lot of time with Palestinian families from a range of incomes over the past week. In every case, the family is together all evening around the heaters. To keep their bodies warm enough, they serve hot coffee, tea, and milk several times throughout the evening. At night, everyone of the same gender climbs into the same beds, or bedroom, and shares heavy covers. It is in this need for survival that the community and family relationships are nurtured. In one home with my friends the Abu Haikals, I sat tucked in next to Hannah and Lena for hours, cross-stitching with them and catching up on two months' worth of news. It felt luxurious. Even the wealthiest families I know here do not have the material possessions we have in an average home, and the political strife hangs over their heads daily, where it barely touches us at home. But what they do have that most of us have traded in for our affluence, like patience and strong family ties--is far more precious.

Happy Thanksgiving, and encouraging reflection on where our priorities lie,

Le Anne

Some thoughts after visiting Jabel Johar

Some thoughts after visiting Jabel Johar
November 24, 2002

Hi everyone,

I guess it's odd that I have so much time to write and reflect in one day. Probably won't again for several weeks. I had just spent a lot of time thinking this afternoon about the young boys I met near where the new settlement is being built, and how deeply the situation disturbed me.

I have often felt that the children here for the most part are not like normal children. Most Palestinian children are far too well mannered, as compared to US children. They're generally nonaggressive, compared to American kids. One of the psychologists with Doctors Without Borders pointed this out to us this spring. And so much smaller. They're too responsible too soon, like tiny adults knowing too much. And you see that in their knowing eyes. It's haunting.

And then you see the settler kids, well dressed and well fed, and taking absolute delight in defacing buildings and assaulting Palestinians and human rights workers alike, verbally and physically. Actually, an odd combination of hatred and delight. They know they're supposed to hate us, and they get rewarded when they do these things. They are just carrying out the actions of their parents, not really seeming to see that this might be something wrong to do. By the time they're old enough to know, I think they've been doing it so long it's just normal or a hard habit to break.

And then there is a group of Palestinian boys, maybe 7-12 years old, that we encounter on a regular basis. It's the same batch of kids mostly, dirty, scrawny, not in school. If you follow the Hebron reports, this is the group of kids we often have throwing stones at us. And I've often thought, 'what is it that seems different between settler kids throwing stones, and these boys throwing stones?’

I think it is the look in their eyes. In these kids, there is anger, and disturbing emptiness. Somehow their parents or families don't or can't look after them, say the neighbors. In addition, being boys their age, they are particularly vulnerable to attacks from settlers or soldiers. The border police go after them first, down at the schools. There is nothing there except each other, and that is challenged every day. I've heard other NGO workers in town say every group has tried to set up a program to help them, but nothing has worked.

There's kind of a futility in their eyes when you try to converse with them, and then they throw small stones at you the second you turn your back. Sometimes neighbors have said, "They think you are settlers." But then we speak to them in Arabic that we're not, and the neighbors tell them also, and this gives them pause for about two seconds, and then they start in again. Not terribly aggressive, but mechanically repetitive.

Two days ago, one of the kids grabbed my hat off my head. Not knowing what else to do, I bear-hug-grabbed him, took back my hat, and scolded him in Arabic. And I felt the kid in my arms, not really struggling, and everybody else watching, and I got the sense that this is what they were looking for somehow. Is it attention? Or a violent reaction? It was almost as if some of them had a 'just kill me' look on their faces. There is not much for them to live for here, especially now if a new settlement is going up in their neighborhood.

I've also been thinking about boys we've seen whose families do look after them. There are two houses in particular, the boys in each are cousins to each other. Their grandparents' house was demolished the same night as the shootout in Hebron, they lost everything. In one house as I sat, the 12 year old was extremely agitated. He kept getting up and leaving the room, and eyed us suspiciously. Suddenly, spontaneously, he threw the glass he had in his hand across the room and through the door, where it shattered. His mother and sisters were shocked and began scolding him. He erupted back and stormed out. His sister said, "We are sorry. He thinks you must be settlers, but we told him you are not. On Friday night (of the shootout), they came and took one of his puppies. Last night, the soldiers came to this house and searched it three times, and took his other puppy. This morning, he found his first puppy outside, shot full of holes and half buried in the dirt." Later he came back into the room with tears in his eyes.

In the other house live two girls and two boys. Their father died in the conflict a few months ago. The girls are at the top of their class, studying constantly. The boys now blow off school completely. Their mother can't make them go. The daughters speak freely and easily with us strangers, the boys are unreachable. My teammate remarked to me, "the girls seem to see that their education is what will help them survive in this world. But the boys aren't concerned with survival. It's like they don't even want to live. Sitting there I thought, these kids will grow up to be the next suicide bombers." It was a chilling thought. But, sitting in the middle of a neighborhood that was about to be bulldozed, where soldiers come every night and beat the men, where children's puppies are killed and border police teargas the school on a regular basis, they are deeply traumatized. I also wondered what they had to live for. For what there still is, I don't think they can see it anymore.

There are lots of suicide bombings that go off 'prematurely,’ or with only killing one other person, or only killing the bomber himself. There is a rising trend of individual or small groups of teen boys who are not affiliated with any Palestinian militia who are becoming suicide attackers. We've seen a woman in front of our eyes try weakly to stab at soldiers at a heavily armed checkpoint, then refuse to run away, and heard of several other such incidents. We've heard it repeated here a few times, a growing part of suicide attacks, are suicide.

-Le Anne

Day Nine of Hebron Siege

Day Nine of the Hebron Siege
November 24, 2002

Hi everyone,

My teammate remarked this morning, "Day nine of the siege." I hadn't thought to count. We spent the night in a three story home downhill from the new settlement, which lies in a valley between the settlements of Hebron and Kiryat Arba. The people living there include a young mother, her two small children, and a diabetic grandmother with a wooden leg. The settlers have been stoning the house, and the soldiers threw a percussion grenade at the front porch. The mother is not happy.

Last night at 3am, we awoke to a bulldozer clearing out a vineyard. The soldiers put up a 'Palestinian only' dirt road as opposed to the 'Israeli' only paved road where the new settlement is. They also bulldozed a friend's prized blue Nissan. A few days ago, settlers broke out the windshield. It was in good condition before. It was pushed downhill 100 meters and then squashed.

The settlers also had a large rally at the site of the new settlement starting around 9pm. The speakers were vehement in both Hebrew and English. We didn't know how long the rally would last, but last week the rally descended into groups of settlers running around trashing the neighborhood. Lying in bed inside the house (they go to bed early here) it occurred to me that it was somewhat like staying in a black family's home near a Ku Klux Klan rally, expecting them to 'ride' that night. Really, that's all you can compare it to these days. Figuring the Hebron settlers have about as much to do with Judaism as the KKK had to do with Christianity.

There is a Jewish Israeli women's group that would like to set up a peace team in Hebron. They said, "Most of us in Israel don't even like the Hebron settlers, why should we allow them to do this?" It was neat to see. Other Israeli peace activists were in over the weekend and helped lawyers obtain an injunction against demolishing at least one of several Palestinian homes in the area where we slept. Good for them, although it was a funny sight that the college aged activists all had pink, green, and skunk-dyed hair and multiple piercings, staying in some of the most traditional homes in Hebron.

Some of you may know about ICAHD, the Israeli Committee Against Housing Demolitions, whom we work with a lot. Jeff Halper heads the program and brought his students over the weekend. Lots of students. This tells me that all radical peace activists would do well to become college professors. What a good place to develop recruits! Even with skunk hairdos. Anyway, it was a hopeful sight here. There's so much attention focused here that I think maybe the soldiers and settlers won't be able to do too much.

Life in Bethlehem is not as hopeful though. As of this invasion, the Israeli military apparently has a list of 2,000 houses they would like to demolish, only a small portion of them belonging to Palestinian combatants, and say they're "not leaving until we finish them off." Yikes. Guess we're setting up a new team in Bethlehem. On the up side, our project coordinator estimated we'd have 20 full timers working here by next summer. Uff da!

I'd like to send more on Iraq, but that will need to wait a few days. I really did take a small book-full of notes. Anyone who wants to drop in on Jack and Anne can check out my 'goodies' that I posted home. They're coming along on next speaking tour.

If you've sent me anything between Nov. 5 and Nov. 20 on my hotmail account, please resend it. Since I was under siege, I discovered Hotmail just deletes your entire inbox when it gets full. Many thanks.

I think I mentioned they only gave me a 2 month visa at the border this time, am thinking through my options. If I go out for just a few days to renew my visa, I'm thinking about taking ulpan, or spoken Hebrew classes, in January. Seems like it would be neat to have a Hebrew speaker on team, and maybe the border guards would let me in without as much hassle if I were coming in 'to study Hebrew.'

Enough for now,

Le Anne

15 Killed in Hebron Shooting Attack

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Fifteen Killed, More Wounded in Hebron Shooting Attack
By Le Anne Clausen
November 16, 2002
HEBRON—At least fifteen people are dead and fifteen more wounded after a shooting attack Friday evening, November 15th, at 7:15pm. Palestinian gunmen opened fire and threw grenades at a group of Israeli settlers and soldiers walking to the Israeli settlement of Kiryat Arba after Shabbat services at the synagogue in the Tomb of the Patriarchs/ Ibrahimi Mosque complex. The dead include nine Israeli soldiers and border policemen, three armed Israeli settler security, and three Palestinians believed to have perpetrated the attack. Colonel Dror Weinberg, commander of the Israeli forces in Hebron, was one of the victims. At least five of the wounded are soldiers in serious condition according to reports received by the team. The Palestinian militia Islamic Jihad has confirmed responsibility for the attack, claiming retribution for the Israeli military assassination of its leader Iyad Sawalha in Jenin late last week.
The Israeli military responded to the attack with several hours of firing at Palestinian areas with machine guns, tanks, and helicopter-mounted artillery. The military also used a bulldozer to demolish two Palestinian homes near the site of the shooting. It is not yet clear how the homes demolished were connected to the attack. At least five Palestinians were arrested according to local news reports.
News reports also indicate the Israeli cabinet is meeting to discuss plans for further retaliation to the attack. The Israeli-controlled areas of Hebron are under tight curfew, and shops in other areas of town are closed in anticipation of a large-scale invasion.
CPTers Le Anne Clausen, Bob Holmes, Jerry Levin, and Quaker Peace and Witness Service (QPWS) member John Lynes walked to the site of the attack, conveying their sorrow and condolences to Israeli settlers and soldiers gathered nearby, as well as to Palestinian families at the site of the home demolitions. Team members observed the bodies of the suspected gunmen being held by the Israeli military in a field nearby. As team members watched, soldiers placed a cover over one of the bodies and attempted to put it on a stretcher for transport. The CPTers also observed soldiers carrying out searches of Palestinian houses in the neighborhood. Later team members Rick Polhamus, Mary Yoder, and Christine Caton delivered a letter of condolence to the Israeli military base in Hebron. The Israeli victims are expected to be buried at sunset Saturday at the end of Shabbat. Team members intend to stay the night with Palestinian civilian families in areas which may be targeted for retribution attacks.
The Christian Peacemaker Team in Hebron strongly condemns this night of violence and calls on both sides to end the cycle of revenge before more lives are needlessly lost. CPT believes that neither the killing of armed persons nor civilians advances the cause of peace. Our thoughts and prayers are with the loved ones of all who were killed, for the recovery of those injured, and for a just and lasting peace in this region.

On Loving One's Enemies

On Loving One’s Enemies
November 12, 2002

I spent a lot of time in Iraq reflecting on Jesus' commandment to love our enemies:

Mt. 5:43-45 (Sermon on the Mount)
"You have heard it said that 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes the sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. "

Loving your enemy on the global scale is seeking the harder path. It means taking the time to seek out a wider variety of sources of news and information. In many ways, the internet has revolutionized the human rights movement by putting reputable HR organizations' reporting directly into the homes of the average person. If you do not have enough time to investigate other sources for yourself, it is good to enlist the help of a media savvy friend to send you a briefing of important international issues. Internet is really the last democratic form of media. Previously local and independent newspapers, radio and television stations are being bought up and thus controlled by an ever-decreasing number of 'media giants.' Many of these corporate executives have real financial investments in the outcome of international political struggles. The outcome in many international conflicts depends at least in part on public opinion, which is influenced by what news is reported and the perspective from which it is reported.

As a Christian committed to loving my enemy on a global scale, my travel itinerary would need to include Cuba, Libya, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, North Korea, Viet Nam, and Serbia. If you have a passport issued before this year, look inside. According to US law, it is illegal to for a US citizen to visit half of the countries I just listed. It is illegal to purchase a souvenir or any other good or product while visiting the country or from overseas in all of the countries I just listed.

Loving your enemy is visiting your enemy, seeing what that enemy is really like, hearing the grievances your enemy holds against you. That does not necessarily mean they are completely innocent. But how many times are you completely innocent when you are in a conflict with someone else? It is not easy. In fact, it is the least popular Christian commandment in all of history. It is refusing to have anyone tell you that someone is your enemy without first seeing it for yourself.

Loving your enemy is refusing to label an entire country "evil." Leaders may be evil, or at least have long histories of evil deeds, but it is wrong to equate political or military leaders with the civilians of their countries. The Fourth Geneva Convention, written after the Holocaust to define minimum standards for humane warfare, says as much. Those of us in the peace movement know how leaders do not listen to desires of the majority, even when the leaders are "democratically elected."

The churches in the United States are united and outspoken against the war. On October 26, 100,000 US citizens marched on Washington, DC; tens of thousands more joined in simultaneous marches around the globe. Did you know? Was it reported? The peace movement to end the Viet Nam war needed seven years of mass American casualties to get as large a crowd to march as there is marching now.

I urge you to read the newspapers with a new filter to help you in your understanding. Every time you read 'war,' or 'military force,' just substitute the phrase, "Kill their civilians."

A new variation on an old cliche came to mind while I was in Iraq: "War is temporary. Radiation is forever."

Our leaders are becoming like the leaders of Israel. Accompanying Iraqi civilians during a mass bombing campaign is like hiding the Jews. If you cannot stop the great evil, then you can at least bear witness to it. It is Christian to go to jail. Christians, after all, are since their very beginning well acquainted with jail.

Bonhoeffer never believed he could stop the war. But he left his place of safety and went to bear witness in the midst of the danger. His country was losing its soul. He had to speak, act, and teach against this to the capacity which he could.

We do not think of a bomb falling into the middle of a room full of people, burning the people, piercing them with shrapnel. Even with Sept. 11 (the closest our country ever got to experiencing this) we still can't ourselves imagine. Now imagine that in your neighborhood, this bombing is occurring every day. Children still have to be fed.

Perhaps the most deeply disturbing part of our delegation was passing an exit on the highway that led south from Basra. It is the highway joining Iraq to Kuwait. This is the place where our armed forces annihilated retreating soldiers. Voices does not allow activists less than 50 years old to go into the area. The radiation level has made the risk of producing deformed children or developing cancer is too high.

Some babies are so horribly mutated that they are almost unrecognizable as human beings. I thought to myself, How would I feel if I gave birth to a lump of flesh? These infants have a short life in the hospital's intensive care unit. They almost always die. Frankly, I thought a lot about my ovaries while in Basra.

The mainstream media paints an image of Iraq the country as nothing more than a crazed leader. While that is true, there is so much more. Next time, think of mutated babies. Then decide whether it is right to bomb.

Greetings from Baghdad!

Hi everyone,

Greetings from Baghdad! I don't know what updates Chicago has sent out for us, so I'll try to give a brief update. We had a pretty good trip with two nights in Amman, Jordan, followed by a sixteen-hour bus ride on the oil road through the Syro-Arabian desert and into Baghdad. We're staying at a really neat hotel where all the walls are covered with carved clay tiles with Arabesque cityscapes. There's a monkey and a parrot in the lobby, I'm trying to teach the parrot to say Marhaba, and the monkey crawled up my leg and bit me through my pants leg and sock, fortunately no damage except that it’s sore. Glad I got my booster shots. He's bitten everyone on the hotel staff and a couple of the Voices people and no one has died so I guess I shouldn't worry and more importantly neither should you!

Tomorrow we'll hit the road splitting up the group to go to Basrah in the south and Mosul in the north, where we'll be meeting with churches and hospitals. I'll be going north and hope we get to drop by Ninevah. The southern group is going to Ur. Yesterday was our first full day here and we went to an orphanage and the Amariyeh bomb shelter (which was destroyed during the first Gulf War, killing several hundred civilians.) Today we visited the University and met students, then sat with the preeminent cancer research doctor in the country and learned about the effects of depleted uranium and other health disasters since the previous war. The photographs of the babies with cyclopeia, icthyosis, hydroencephaly, and extruding vital organs were difficult to see, yet a very quick visual lesson in the effects of radiation absorption. I'm working on a presentation for all this similar to my Palestine talk so you can all see this better. We met a professor today who remarked, "This is the cradle of civilization, which is about to be erased from the earth by the most civilized nation on earth." That pretty much sums up the sentiment. People are expecting to be blown to bits. When at the shelter, we heard one woman say, "people will not go into the bomb shelters now (after the Amariyeh bombing) They say, 'we go in there, we'll die. We stay at home, we'll die.' Although a student also remarked, "we are not 'afraid.' We are a courageous people." So many thoughts and feelings here about the near future.

The reception here has been good, though the situation heartbreaking. People around here haven't gotten many tourists in a long time I guess. When locals find out we're American, we usually get suprised grins and 'welcome!' Iraqis are extremely polite and well educated people, even more so than Palestinians though I never thought that possible. Somewhat similar to Cuba, college education is free to all who qualify on their exams. I can explain more of the demographics later, but the artistry and architecture is overwhelmingly beautiful. I asked our guides if we could get pictures of the mosaic mosques and fountains and statues around the city, things we never see on TV at home. It's so unlike I ever imagined here that I have to tell you all to come see it for yourself. I could easily feel at home here, I would love to spend another month here at least. It really reinforces my sense that I should spend most of my life educating other Americans about all the different people and places we consider 'enemies.' I'd like to write a little more about my developing theology of enemy-loving and the in's and out's of that, but I will wait until returning to Palestine. We are sharing a computer among 30 people here. The weather is extremely warm though the season is changing, and I should have brought more formal clothes. I am just scraping by on my dressiest outfit here. (My black 'Palestinian' slacks and a button down cotton shirt) The local women wear long though sophisticated skirts, and nice blouses, or blazers. I gotta spiff up if I want to stay here long.

That's enough for now. I'll probably write again next from Palestine.

Le Anne

Departing!

Departing!
October 20, 2002

Hi everyone,

Well, my ticket is here and all the stuff I'm packing is spread around the living room floor. I am also starting the first 48 hours I have had all to myself since being home. Yeah, I miss solitude, I had lots of it up in Nazareth, and none of it once I got to Hebron, sometimes I can't stand the thought of it when the possibility arises (people have started calling me an extrovert which is new and very surprising to me), but it feels good and
re-centering when I've got it. Pretty much these days I'm at a point where if other people are around I feel like I ought to be with them, even if I'm really tired, and feel guilty for closing the door to my room. Oddly enough, the first thing I did was go outside and prune all the trees and bushes. We got one warm afternoon, then back to windchill. I had to scrape my windshield this morning and was disgusted. The other day, it snowed.
Time to return to the Middle East, I say.

I guess I was a sucker for punishment this time home, or maybe just motivated. I somehow racked up 17 speaking engagements and six interviews. Most of those were unplanned and after the paper ran the story about my going to Iraq. For the most part, I found that youth groups were more interested in Iraq, and Palestine was for more 'conservative' groups--somehow, it seems, now that Iraq is on the table, Palestine has
become much less taboo. Although I did have a senior church group today that wanted to know all sorts of things about Iraq and strongly voiced their disapproval for the war. That was neat. The messages of support I've received from friends, family and strangers has been quite moving and uplifting. Thanks very much to those of you who sent them. I will think of those words in more uncertain moments over the next couple weeks.

I'll be getting back into Minneapolis if all is according to plan on Feb. 7th for another 4-5 weeks home. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up then with everybody I missed this time around.

Well, guess the next message will be from Iraq! Talk to you then!

Le Anne

Headed to Iraq...

Headed to Iraq
October 2, 2002

Hi everyone,

This will be a lengthy letter.

I just wanted to let those of you who are tech-savvy know that I will be doing a live tv interview TOMORROW (Thursday) at 3:30 pm. This will be broadcast on streaming web video via internet, so you may log on at www.kollegeville.com (yes with a 'k') at that time. The topic is middle east peacemaking, Israel/Palestine and Iraq. Guess I'd better get some beauty sleep...

Next, I am updating my lists for Palnotes (my list), the Hebron team list, and my action alerts and articles lists. If you are on some and don't want to be, let me know this week. If you aren't and do want to be, same goes.

Next, if your congregation or other group would like CPT literature in small quantities (like the Signs of the Times quarterly newsletter highlighting all of the projects, free or free-will donation to subscribe), please send me a mailing address and I'll take care of it for you. Or if you want to subscribe yourself also.

And then, if you know radio stations or newspapers who would like to interview Iowa CPT workers who are traveling to Iraq on an emergency humanitarian delegation in October, please also let me know. I am more than happy to do press work. I'm not really available to travel out of town any more than I've already scheduled, but can do lots over the phone or email.

If you read the Des Moines Register yesterday, call them up and tell them they did a
lousy and irresponsible job. Or at least a lousy job portraying CPT as irresponsible. Meanwhile, the Globe did a far superior article with actual facts about the humanitarian situation in Iraq necessitating such a trip and actual reasons for us going. I like my reporter over there an awful darn lot, as you all can tell.

So anyway, as the press got hold of it yesterday, the time has come to tell you I will be going to Iraq as part of a CPT emergency humanitarian delegation. We will be accompanying civilian areas such as schools, hospitals, and bomb shelters, and documenting and reporting on the situation, particularly if US military activity results in civilian losses. The Iraq Peace Team will ultimately comprise over 100 people arriving over several weeks throughout the winter. In addition, the team will be carrying in and distributing $20-$30,000 worth of vital hospital supplies, particularly leukemia medications. (Leukemia and other cancers, as well as serious birth defects, have skyrocketed since the first Gulf War and the US-sponsored UN sanctions do not permit hospital supplies to enter.) I anticipate staying 2-6 weeks depending on conditions, then returning to Hebron for my usual 3 month stint. This brings me back home about late Feb-early March. My teammates and good friends Peggy Gish and Anne Montgomery are going with me, a group of about 15, joining others on the ground from Voices in the Wilderness.

I have spent a great deal of time thinking through the possible consequences and penalties of my actions, as it violates US law for US citizens to travel to countries deemed 'enemy territory.' It is also against the law to distribute the medicines. I have consulted with the seminary, my team, and several of you already in forming my decision to engage in civil disobedience. It is possible I could serve jail time or be fined when I return. I have decided to refuse any fines imposed on me, and am willing to serve jail time, but will speak out publicly as much as possible before, during, and after, should that eventuality occur. Voices has led 45 educational and humanitarian delegations to Iraq in defiance of the sanctions, and has been penalized considerably lightly given the provisions of the law. So we shall see. I am of course nervous, but my experience of leading two emergency delegations in Palestine, as well as living and working through two invasions, as well as Voices' carefully built relationships with the local community in Baghdad and other Iraqi cities, gives me a sense of what to expect. While I am anxious about the process of getting there, being there, and then getting back to Hebron, I also feel a calm resolve and have since the opportunity to participate was offered to me.

Anybody got a used video camera? Just checking my options. I tried to bribe KIMT the other day, no luck so far. (I promised first crack at the pictures).

But enough for now. I did three speeches and an interview today and got called up to do three more talks, all work and no play are making me duller by the minute. I got a potluck dinner in my honor tonight at the Presbyterians and will do another one with the Wesleyan Methodists and it looks like I'll have plenty of stored reserves to insulate me through the winter over there. Pass the hot dish...

Le Anne

Recipe for Arabic Pita Bread

Recipe Break: Arab Pita Bread
September 30, 2002

Hi everyone,

Aunt Dar and I put together a Palestinian dinner party for Iowa City friends this past weekend and it was a smashing success. The 20 or so cook's helpers/taste testers scarfed down all but our bowl of backup rice. If you are as ambitious a cook as she is, let me know and we can plan a similar fete in your neck of the woods when I'm home next.

In the meantime, many people have asked me why their attempts at pita bread have not turned out as desired. I personally have had no idea until now. This recipe worked well for us, was reasonably entertaining, and the mistakes correctable. More recipes to follow.

Enjoy!

Hubbas (Arab Pita Bread) Makes 20, allow 3 hours or so prep (with nap breaks)

1 pkg active dry yeast large bowl
1T sugar small bowl
3 c. warm water rolling pin, board
1 T salt lots of towels/cloths
1 T oil plastic garbage bag, or newspapers
9 cups unsifted all purpose flour griddle or skillet

In a small bowl, combine yeast, sugar, and water. Let stand until bubbly (about five minutes). Stir in salt and oil.

Place all flour in a large bowl and make a well in the center. Pour in about half the yeast mixture at a time. Mix and knead by hand until flour and liquid hold together.

Turn dough out onto a well-floured board and shape into a log. Divide into 20 equal pieces. Place pieces of dough on the board and keep covered. To shape each loaf, place a piece of dough in a floured palm. With your other hand, pull dough out away from sides, then fold it back toward center and press in middle, work around edge until smooth and elastic. Place smooth side up on cloth-lined trays. Cover with dry cloth, then top with damp cloth, then let rise at room temp until puffy. (1 to 1 ½ hours)

One at a time place a ball on a floured board. With a rolling pin, flatten, then roll out from center with 4 strokes each way to make a 6-inch round. Shake off excess flour and place rounds at least ½ inch apart on a dry cloth. Cover with the dry and damp cloth again, top with plastic or newspaper, and let them rise again another hour.

Adjust oven rack to 2 inches above bottom. Preheat to 475 degrees.

On a griddle with minimal grease, set each piece of bread just long enough to sear one side. (Some toasty brown spots acceptable) Then flip onto ungreased baking sheets for 5-10 minutes in oven. (Three breads fit on my sheets at a time.) Keep the oven light on and pull up a chair because this is cool. They inflate like balloons! If some don't inflate, don't worry, just get a good bread knife and fake a pocket later. Take out and let cool on a towel. You can flatten them down later, and refrigerate or freeze extras. Just reheat them before serving, they taste better that way (also true with store-brought pita).

If you like whole wheat bread, use the recipe above, reducing all-purpose flour to 5 cups and adding 3 ½ cups whole wheat flour, and ½ cup wheat germ.

Re-entry Discombobulation

Re-entry Discombobulation
September 15, 2002

Hi everyone,

I am home again as of last night and am getting readjusted to life in the US. My most recent discovery has been that reverse culture shock becomes cumulative; it doesn't reset itself every three months! I have felt extremely disoriented since getting back. I actually flew in on Aug. 31, but spent the past week in Chicago at the office and in Indiana at the CPT full-timer's retreat. It was neat to meet all the Colombia team people, who we don't interact with much because fluent Spanish speakers are needed to stay on that project and not move around. They are also mostly younger people, as opposed to our mostly older team, so it was nice not to feel like the 'kid' for a while.

My Sundays got booked up within 24 hours of my being home. But I may be willing to take on a few more speaking engagements during the week. So far:

Th, Sept 19, Baptist women's group in Osage IA
Su, 22, Either MC Unitarians or CF Mennonites, then overnight with little brother Tom (surprise!) in Cedar Falls.
Mon, 23, display table at Wartburg. (Available for classes!)
Th-Sun 26-29, Iowa City, Su Unitarian church
Weds, Oct 2, MC NIACC classes and display table
Su-Sat, Oct 6-12, taking a trip somewhere I think having nothing to do with CPT.
Su Oct 13, Methodist Church, Des Moines


I'll try to work in as many visits as I can around that schedule. Otherwise, I plan to try piecing together a quilt, attending pottery studio, and maybe studying up on Iraq.

It looks like I'll be headed back out Oct. 22, and will not get back home again until March 10 or so this time. It'll be a longer time out than usual, but should still be okay. Lots will be happening.

Lots of people have been asking me if I still have any marks from my beating. Really, I'm okay. Think of a women's rugby match, only with a camera. Since I got to keep the camera, I consider that I won. I actually got worse injured in a nice friendly round among CPTers of a game we call 'Slaughter,' in which someone lost themselves for a moment and began twisting my arm off. Lots of ice and time to blow off steam helped out a lot though. It was a game designed to help peace activists get in touch with their inner capacity for violence, so they don't get too self-righteous, I guess. Well, yeah, we all got in touch. In this game, you have two teams with a ball and a basket. You have to get your ball into the other team's basket. Other than that, there are no rules. We played on carpet, and there were many nasty formidable cases of rug-burn. Three people pushed me out of bounds in the first two minutes of the game, but since there were no rules and my inner aggressive streak had just come out full force (meaning no way was I done with this game yet), I made a peace accord with the person who was out from the other team, and we both went back in. I then got the ball in the bucket, but people didn't think much of my attempts at civil disobedience and peacemaking. Oh well. My wrist got messed up in the second round. I was really bitter for a while but lost my anger when the guy realized later that I was carrying an ice pack around on his account and said he was sorry. It's hard to stay mad at a guy like him, especially when he's 70. Actually, he felt so bad I thought maybe I should ditch the ice so he'd feel better, but then common health sense kicked in and I was completely fine two days later.

After the retreat I came home via Madison and Dubuque. We went to support friends who were arrested for doing a public witness at a 'first-strike' nuclear transmitter during training last January. We then went to eat at an Indian restaurant and nargila parlor, only the nargila was $16 per pipe! I will wait until I get back to Hebron for my fifty-cent fix. Either that, or I start fundraising by opening my own parlor. I did however get my seminary 'fix' visiting my friend Liz at Wartburg in Dubuque. So glad I'm headed for sem after CPT. So glad I am not there just yet...but I guess I'd better start getting 'fixed' on my Hebrew and Greek when I come home on leave, or much pain and suffering lies ahead.

I bussed home on the 11th, but got to go to one memorial service in the morning at the seminary, and then one at my home church directly after getting off the bus. Then someone said there was an anti-war vigil in central park, so I went straight to that. So now there is a quite large picture of me on the front page of the paper with my head bowed over a candle, and fortunately the caption does not tell that my head is bowed simply because I didn't hear the 'amen' at the end of the prayer and was waiting for them to go on while everyone else sat up. Oops. At any rate, there was no need to tell anyone from around here that I'd made it back.

I always mean to write more in my group letter, but then forget it all when I sit down to type. In the meantime, I'll sign off for now...

Le Anne

Vacations in Gaza

Vacations in Gaza
August 20, 2002

Hi everyone,

I am starting this week off rested, refreshed, and ready to get back into work in Hebron. You might say I had a lovely time with a lovely group of people, a much-needed respite from the rigors of daily CPT life this summer.

Where, you might ask, was I?

I was asked by a friend who works for Global Exchange to accompany their latest 'reality tour' group to Gaza this past weekend. Global Exchange does a lot of neat things, you should check out their website, when I scrape the money together I should just tell you now my plans are to go on their trips to Cuba and Iran. Although first I am being tempted by the upcoming CPT delegation to Iraq with Voices in the Wilderness. (Let me put in a plug for it now....any takers? You could also be going to beautiful Vieques, Puerto Rico...check the website.) And no paramilitary white settlers to kick you around in any of these places, either.

Anyway. Always, people have told me how desperate the situation in Gaza is. I could see that easily driving around: large swaths of Palestinian farmland are bulldozed clear to allow expansion of the settlements, cutting clear across to the sea. Very few houses are completed, most are seemingly fragile creations of cheap concrete block and cement. Those of you who went with me to Honduras in college know exactly what I mean. Gaza City looks like Tegucigalpa in every way I can think of right now.

But the land is also beautiful, and nobody ever told me that. I fell in love with the place immediately. I would be happy to work there someday. There is a distinctive architecture to the place, which I didn't think to photograph, but when a house is actually completed, they are painted with exquisite detail in Mediterranean colors. Each house is made as unique as the materials allow. The feel of the place is very fluid—by that I mean you feel as if you're floating between the horrors and the beauty. Life is intense and lazy at the same time.

We visited a Palestinian home next to the Kfar Darom settlement in Deir al-Balah. The family there has soldiers on the roof because it's a tall house, the back side is shot up enough to look like Swiss cheese. That's better than the neighbors' houses, which are crumbling and falling over from repeated shellings. The soldiers come into their home at least two nights per week and lock them into one room overnight, often without access to the bathroom. Sometimes they come during the day and lock them into the kitchen. There are eleven family members living in the house. Have you ever had eleven people milling around in your kitchen? All day? On a regular basis?

The house is three stories tall, but they are only allowed to use the first floor. Within the first floor, they can only safely use the kitchen, bathroom, and parlor-which they sleep in whether they're locked in or not. The other rooms will be shot into if they are in there.

Despite this, the family is not vengeful or bitter. Often these days you see people masking their bitterness, but here it seemed to me there was nothing to cover. They invite the settler children daily to visit their home and play with their own children (No takers just yet). They also welcome in a steady stream of journalists and visitors to share their story. They were incredibly articulate in doing so, too. Probably the result of too much practice. The daughter had near-perfect scores on her college entrance exam, and spoke perfect English, but due to the closure and the economic situation, there will be no college for her.

We stayed in a hotel near the coast in Gaza City, dined in a fantastic fish restaurant, and had dessert at a beautiful restored Palestinian mansion on the coast. Our guide was one of the architects. His class re-designed the building. Looking up at the stars and feeling the breeze, it was difficult to believe this was one of the saddest places on earth. It was hard to believe within this tiny strip of land that this place existed alongside everything else we'd seen all day.

I learned quickly that the people in Gaza feel forgotten. After that, they feel underestimated. It seemed as though our hosts and every organization we visited there wanted to prove to us that people in Gaza have desperate circumstances, but are doing beautiful things with the little that they have. They are trying to show their ability to govern themselves under independence, which they never had even under Oslo. I visited an orphanage with meticulously tended gardens, a state-of-the-art deaf school with dynamic programs. The variety of cultural programs and development also are amazing. I think the people are trying to rid themselves of the image of being violent uncivilized religious fanatics. I also think that when the Occupation is over, the tourists will flock in.

We also visited the site of the apartment bombing which killed nine children. Gaza City has one of the tightest population densities in the world. I was suprised that there was as little damage as there was actually, but not suprised at the death toll. It is like the destruction of suicide bomber's families' homes. If the bomber lived in an apartment building with a bunch of other renters, ten families are displaced rather than one. I heard and read a lot of reports about the Hamas leader (Shehadeh) being morally irresponsible for 'surrounding' himself with children. And I thought to myself when seeing the destruction, even Sharon has the right to live with his family. What if someone came and bombed his home? What if bombs started dropping in the crowded slums of south Tel Aviv, targeting the houses of every soldier who killed a Palestinian? Or if the Palestinian resistance began dynamiting their homes? What if? Would it seem more repugnant than it already is?

If you read the team updates, you know about the shooting incident in Rafah. Not much more I can say about that here. I'm going to offer to take special-interest delegations to Gaza if I'm on site when the group comes. One person on our previous delegation called us 'negligent' in not taking every delegation there. I can understand where she's coming from. It is logistically difficult enough not to do so, though. And in some ways, if you don't know what you're looking at, you don't understand what you're seeing.

I ended the weekend strangely enough sipping overpriced beers in the American Colony Hotel garden and cheering the evening with 'Next year in Teheran,' for our two Iranian exiles in the group. Already I've been asked to help lead the next tour. I hope that I do.

Looking forward to coming home next week. Or at least back to the States. I still feel good, and that I'm doing good work. I'm glad we do three-year terms, because after one year I finally feel like I'm a 'good' CPTer. Would hate to have the term half over already.

I suppose the flow of this email fits the flow of life I've described in Gaza. Time to end for now.

Talk to you all soon.
Le Anne

Taking it in the Nose for Peace

Taking it in the Nose for Peace
July 31, 2002

Hi everyone,

I know some of you aren't on the Hebron news list, so I'll attach my latest contribution to peace at the end of this email. For those of you who are already aware of my rough day yesterday, thanks for the get-well notes. I am recovering nicely, though yesterday my head weighed about 300lbs and I was feeling pretty sluggish. Today, the bridge of my nose has a light blue mark and hurts pretty good, my chin is pretty tender, and I discovered three new bruises when I changed clothes last night. Between the shoulder blades, and the small of my back are a little out of whack, but I'll manage. My sardonic sense of humor has returned after a day of quiet yesterday. I guess in CPT you can't ever say, 'you should see the other guy...' I was thankful, however, that 'ultrareligious' Jewish women don't hit the gym; rather, they hit like girls. And that the one who was kicking me in the back of the head was wearing Teva sandals. The whole time I was thinking, so this is a settler beating, huh? Not as painful as I imagined, but boy is she trying hard. Hope they don't get the camera. Since I did manage to keep the camera, which doesn't happen often in settler attacks, and our team has a history of losing equipment, I plan to get a photo of myself with said camera and bruises and send it to CPT's insurance guy. With a letter reading "CPTer sacrifices body to protect equipment, prevent rising premiums"

For two brief moments, I thought that everyone had gone inside and left me out there to get whacked around, then I realized they were still in hiding from the settlers going after them. But once I yelled good and loud they figured it out. (I am happy to report I do not yell like a girl).

I did end up at the hospital yesterday, but for nothing related to the assault. Instead, I finally went to check out my ankle which has been messed up for the last ten days. I really did a number on it Sunday during the settler riot when I did a dead run across the old city. Afterwards was feeling pretty nauseous. Well, no hairline fracture as was a possibility, but a torn ligament. I've got a funny piece of elastic that is really too warm to wear this time of year and fortunately no advice I can't follow like, keep off that for a few days and be sure to use ice (ha!)

That's enough for now. It is so hot out here, I am glad we do not have a thermometer. Usually the air is so dry and breezy I don't notice the heat. Not this week. Ugh. Stay in touch...
Le Anne


For Immediate Release
CPTers ATTACKED BY RAMPAGING SETTLER WOMEN
By Jerry Levin

HEBRON, WEST BANK--Several young Israeli settler women and youths invaded
Hebron's Old Market area twice Tuesday, July 30, assaulting Palestinian shopkeepers and members of the Christian Peacemaker Team (CPT), who were trying to intervene and document the incident.

The first disturbance began at about 9:15 in the morning below the CPT apartment. Four settler boys started throwing stones and rocks over the barricade separating the Palestinian market from Shuhada Street. CPTers phoned the police and alerted soldier stationed on a roof across the street to the attack.

As CPTers Jerry Levin, LeAnne Clausen, and Janet Shoemaker reached the street to investigate, two young settler women came through the barricade and began throwing stones at an elderly Palestinian man nearby. Clausen left the doorway to protect the man from the settlers.

A settler woman demanded Levin's camera and tried to grab it. Levin, who was blocking entry to the building, passed the camera to Shoemaker who was standing inside behind him. When the settler women noticed Clausen photographing them trying to get past Levin, one moved towards her, trying to grab the camera. Clausen, trying to shield the camera with her body, was knocked down by one of the women who then bent her fingers back and struck her repeatedly with her fists. Meanwhile, a second woman hit her with stones, and a third began kicking her in the back of the head. Levin, trying to block the settlers' blows, got down and covered Clausen with his body to protect her and the camera.

Three IDF soldiers came through the barricade. The settler boys stopped throwing stones, but a woman standing no more than three feet away from Clausen threw a chunk of asphalt in her face.

The women then began moving further into the market. A few minutes later a patrol of about ten Israeli soldiers entered the market through the barricade, and gently escorted the women out of the area.

At 12:45 pm, the young settler women again charged through the barricade and attacked the poultry store next to the CPT apartment, taunting and hitting the owner, his sons, and breaking several dozen eggs. Still screaming they stormed further into the market area.

Calls for help from CPT brought an Israeli Police van. Once again the policemen stood watching from the safety of Shuhada Street. After several minutes, a contingent of about ten soldiers arrived, headed into the market and a few minutes later escorted the settler women out. The soldiers made no attempt to restrain or arrest any of them.

Palestinian shopkeepers expressed their anger to CPTers about the indifference of the police and the soldiers' solicitous treatment of the settler women. One angry elderly Palestinian man, yelled at the soldiers. "Our God is watching this. And he will not let this happen." An IDF soldier hearing him stopped, turned, and said very slowly, "He is our God. And he has saved us."

A Few Thoughts on Dysentery

A Few Thoughts on Dysentery
July 25, 2002

Hi everyone,

I just realized I will be home again in just over a month, (September 11, to be exact) and need to get my speaking calendar figured out. I plan to return here around the weekend of October 12th. I'll try to start clustering talks in nearby towns together, if those of you wanting me to come could please let me know soon. I know already I'll probably want to head down towards Wartburg after October 1st. I'll send out a preliminary schedule as soon as I can!

Well, it has been a busy week or so. I always forget when I've written last. I will start writing now and stop when the mosquitos methodically gnaw my toes off, as they usually do this time of night. It doesn't matter that I've applied a cocktail of three different repellents; these guys are mutants. I read in the paper yesterday that Beer Sheva is getting cases of mosquito-transmitted West Nile Virus. Ha, ha, that's really not so far from here. So we've been watching each other for signs of delirium. How does one tell around here, I say.

I say all this because the past three days I've suffered from a nasty stomach bug. As soon as I caught it, I thought about the friend I met earlier on the street in Jerusalem, who shook my hand and then later said, "You know, after being in Gaza I've been nasty sick. The doctor diagnosed me with dysentery." As I lay in agony, I thought, "Gee, thanks for shaking my hand." Probably by the time he'd mentioned it I'd already rubbed my eye or something. Fortunately, after some panicked phone calls (hey, just what is dysentery anyway?) someone on our team was able to tell me that in Arabic, dysentery is used to describe all manner of nasty stomach bugs. So anyway. Whatever it is, it is gripping all of Palestine, local and foreigner alike, and has for some months now. Bleh. The upside to being ill is that it got me off my ankle which I did something dumb to and wasn't slowing down to give it a rest. I'm back on patrol today, though.

Previous to the sick days, I spent a couple days walking out to the Baqaa Valley near a settlement where a number of families have been suffering from a settler militia which refers to itself as "Settler Security." I find that about as apt a description of what they do as "Israeli Defense Forces" around here. The families call it a 'gang,' which I don't find too far off the mark myself. They run around in jeans, flak jackets and sport Uzis. You call them what you like. Anyway. They've been suffering from these guys for the past year, more so in the past couple weeks, as has just about every Palestinian landowner located near a settlement. The militia all over the Hebron district (county) as well as the settlements in the city have been trying to expand their territory rapidly. This area I went to is one we don't usually cover, but I imagine we'll be spending lots of time out there pretty soon. I'm now working on a special report to release later this week and the team is trying to figure out what else we can do to stop the expansions. Stay tuned...

Team life has been gritty lately. I mean that in the most literal way. The team decided while I was in Jerusalem that we needed to save water during this shortage season by cleaning less. A thick layer of scum has now descended upon most surfaces. Slimy dishes are taking over our counter space faster than the settler activity I just mentioned. Let's not even discuss the squat toilet. Overall I am not amused. My teammie Greg was grouchy all day yesterday too, and when I finally made him tell me what it was, he said "team's too big and everything's filthy." Team size has been a bit frustrating too. I like a team that's large enough nobody gets overburdened, but small enough so everyone still knows what's going on and everybody knows who left their dishes in the sink and sneaked away.

I've been reading The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris and have found the comparison between monastic community life and CPT community life ironic and amusing. Mainly because she paints such a realistic view of monastic community. It has really helped me feel out, now that I'm finding myself a 'senior' member of the team, how to keep community glued together. Basically: worship together, constantly forgive, stay flexible, and communicate. I'll probably pontificate on that further in future emails. For now, I'll go catch up on those dishes.

In Peace,

Le Anne

I don't make the news, I just train the guys that do

I don’t make the news, but I train the guys who make the news?
July 3, 2002

Gee, when people take my training program for nonviolent direct action and civilian human rights protection, this is what happens to them. I guess I should attach a disclaimer to tomorrow's program. Guess I'll go find Darlene and spend a final night carousing. Eric, who is Jewish American, brought his mother over here with him. She is apparently taking it all rather well. Got to spend the last two days with a really cool Michigan Peace Team-er named Mike, am trying to recruit him to the team also if he doesn't get deported first. Add these to my guys in the Church of the Nativity and Muqataa last invasion-go-round. Well, I'm still firmly planted here for the meanwhile.
-Le Anne


[Press Release from ‘The Other Israel’ and Gush Shalom, the Israeli ‘Peace Bloc’]

Tomorrow: court decision regarding deportation order against two of the internationals
Date: Wed, 3 Jul 2002 19:06:06 +0200

URGENT:

Only now was announced that tomorrow at 12 o'clock the Administrative Court in
Jerusalem is going to give its final verdict in the question of the deportation order against Josie Sandercock (UK) and Darlene Wallach (US). The two were among a group of internationals arrested several weeks ago at Balata Refugee Camp in Nablus - while trying to provide humanitarian help to inhabitant whose house had been taken over.

The two are represented by lawyers Mahmoud Jabbarin of LAW and Gaby Laski of
PCATI. The court is in the Disstrict Court building on Salah a-Din Street, East
Jerusalem. In an earlier session the presence of activists, journalists and diplomats
may have had an impact - there followed release on bail.

The decision of tomorrow is not only important for the fate of these two women, but
also as precedent. IF YOU FEEL THAT THE INTERNATIONALS DO AN IMPORTANT HUMANITARIAN JOB, THEN BE THERE.

(Based upon the information we just now got from Josie.)

A vivid description of the earlier session and about what these internationals stand for in Tom Segev's "Three Volunteers in Limbo" of Friday, June 14
http://www.haaretzdaily.com/hasen/pages/ShArt.jhtml?itemNo=176264&contrassID=2&
subContrassID=5&sbSubContrassID=0&listSrc=Y

The following is another ISM report out of the many we receive daily :

INTERNATIONAL SOLIDARITY MOVEMENT
http://www.palsolidarity.org
July 3, 2002 1700
For immediate release

Two Americans, one Brit held captive by Israeli Army

Held in inhumane conditions, denied access to consulates

[NABLUS] At 1600 Monday July 01, 2002 Israeli soldiers took Eric Levine, an American human rights worker, Brian Dominick, an American medical worker, and Peter Blacker, a British medical worker to an army occupied house near Nablus where they were made to stay under inhuman conditions, with no explanation, for over 45 hours.

They were put in a small unfinished room, out in the open. They remained in the open
day and night without adequate shelter from the heat or nighttime cold. They were
given one meal a day consisting of canned food and not allowed to use toilet facilities. The men repeatedly asked why they were being held and requested to make phone calls to their family and consulates, but were denied. Soldiers yelled at them, pushed them and told them that if they tried to leave they would be shot.

Today at approximately 1600 the men were released in a remote location near
Nablus, whereby they made their way into Nablus on foot. The two medical workers are
now with the Union of Palestinian Medical Relief Committees (UPMRC) in Nablus,
and Eric is due to be on a flight back to the United States tonight.

The Israeli Army has thus far not given either the ISM or consular officials any explanation as to why these men were abducted, treated inhumanely and held
incommunicado for two days.

Notes from the Invasion

Notes from the Invasion
June 29, 2002

Hi everyone,

I am wiped-out tired because I haven't slept for two nights.

Correction: I did get 2-3 hours sleep between when the first bomb was dropped in the center of town and the second one (3:30am). The PA headquarters was blown to pieces by Israeli F-16s. The force blew the windows inward (Dutch style, not double-hung) but the glass didn't break. It shook the house and was the loudest thing I'd ever heard. And we were about a mile away. We sent two pairs up to check out the damage to the houses in the immediate neighborhood of the blast. Stay tuned for pictures on our website. The dust is settling over the entire city. The night before they were firing Apache rockets and heavy artillery. Anyway, after the second blast last night, I was almost drifting off again, then felt something skitter across my arm. It was a 1 1/2 inch cockroach. So I shook out the mat, dragged it out of the corner, and committed an act of violence with a broom. Then a while later I was almost asleep again when I realised the windows being blown open (latch is broken) allowed the Mosquitos of Doom to enter our room. So I fended them off the rest of the night. Argh.

One bold rooster is still crowing across the street. I think I wrote the other day about the dead animals piling up due to the heat inside the stall. There is no way to move them or anywhere to take them, so the kids sneak in every day and remove the carcasses. The stench in our street is incredible. We morbidly wondered if installing a 'chicken cam' would cause at least the animal rights activists to apply pressure on the curfew situation. People could watch in horror over the internet as they suffocated and died, and the soldiers prevented anyone from getting near to aid them.

The Israeli military is now in charge of the water supply. Way to go guys. Now there is no water supply. Never give control of essential life resources for a civilian population to a group of people with guns. This is one of my Obvious Rules of Humane Warfare (if there is such a thing.) The other is, ‘Never allow contact between soldiers and refugees.’ That is why there are clashes here. The soldiers station themselves right outside the camps and make life miserable as soon as people set foot outside the camp. Then after the clash starts, the camp gets tear gassed. This is called collective punishment. The same situation occurs with soldiers and schools, as you have seen by reading our reports. My third Obvious Rule is, ‘Never give an eighteen year old kid a gun and a sense of superiority over another group of people.’ We've been dealing with that crap all week.

Anyway.

Yesterday I took food supplies up Tel Rumeida to a family living next to the settlement. On the way, I got goosed by an otherwise gentle looking teenage boy. Hey! You're way too young for me! Today we'll go a different path on the hill to check in on other families who can't sneak to a renegade grocery store because they're too close to the settlements.

It is now the fifth day of curfew over the entire city. But the soldiers are strangely absent from the streets. This is because they control all the hilltops; only one street in town is not visible to them. So why patrol? However, this does not keep tanks, bulldozers, and APCs from rolling up and down the street next to our place at all hours of the day and night. The noise is deafening. It's great to be on the phone and tell people to wait for the tank to pass. Especially international calls.

In lighter news, we've been invited to another Saturday night party with our colleague international observer force in town, TIPH. This is lovely and so needed. As long as Doctors Without Borders can come pick us up, we'll be fine. No taxis during invasions. So, it's a nice partnership blooming among the three groups. TIPH supplies the swank facilities, DWB the transport (TIPH isn't allowed out at night right now) and we I guess are the nutty entertainment!

That's my news for now. Keep sending the jokes.
Le Anne

Gee, it all looks so familiar...

It all looks so familiar…
June 27, 2002

Hi everyone,

Well, we are three days into the invasion of Hebron and have been busy busy busy. Our team has been escorting medical staff and patients to hospitals, sleeping in hospitals to prevent destructive military searches, running groceries to hungry families (they give us money, we go to the two or three shops defiantly open around the city), etc. etc.

We've been dealing with a largely nasty group of soldiers, shipped in special for the task. We figured out today they ship in new guys for this because they don't have attachments or relationships formed with the place or its people. They clearly haven't been here long enough to see the paramilitary tactics of the settlers, and they have either been propagandized or shell-shocked enough to feel little compassion for Palestinian civilians. Many also do not know us or the other organizations in town and are obstructing our work. Still, there are a few good eggs.

We also have realized today, after one exasperated teammie asked the question, "Who is the sick mastermind who decides to do all this stuff (closures, curfews, blocking ambulances, etc.)" Another asked, "Don't these soldiers get a briefing on international law?" A refusenik friend who was previously in the army gave us the answer. He said, "basically there are no rules. The 18-year-olds are given guns and assignments, and have a free hand to do whatever they see fit and their commander allows them to get away with." That certainly gels with our most recent experience, three young guys blocking our path, refusing to call their commander, each giving different orders about what we could and couldn't do, where we could and could not go. Standing right beside each other as they spoke.

I did have an interesting conversation with one soldier today. We were trying to take food to a bank security guard marooned without supplies when curfew was announced. He said, "you think I don't care people are starving here? I don't make the orders." I said I thought he probably did care, and I hoped he would think about the morality of his commander's orders. He said, "but the orders are not from my commander, they are from the Prime Minister himself (Sharon)."

In the meantime, I've been training international volunteers to be trainers for other humanitarian/nonviolent action volunteers in Palestine for the summer. We didn't have time to do the 'role plays' required for the training, but they got their practice hands-on when the invasion began and stranded them in the city. They've been a great help in attending to the hospitals' security.

Those are just a few happenings right now. Overall, there are a dozen or so Palestinian police holed up in the headquarters here, an old British Mandate building that is heavily fortified and difficult to destroy. Apache helicopters have been shelling and firing missiles the past three days. It is a siege that will likely end in their deaths whether they surrender or not, so they feel they have nothing to lose. The entire city is under curfew. A city of 140,000 people looks like 'After the Bomb' or some movie like that. You can hear tanks rolling in the streets and gunfire in the distance.

Our team morale is pretty good right now, hope it can keep up. I scrubbed all the black gunk off our pots and pans tonight, which was therapeutic, but will have a chat with teammies who don't wash both outside and inside the dishes when they have kitchen duty. And then I chiseled off the stove which someone baked rice onto while I was
home. Yes, there will be chats. I guess things slip through the cracks. We've all had the stomach flu in the days leading up to the invasion, Immodium supplies are nearly exhausted now, so we were wiping down door handles and computer keyboards and scrubbing suddenly disgusting toilets. Now we are all simply dehydrated from the long hot treks required across town on a full-city patrol. I hope this serves as a brilliant recruiting campaign for you all into this type of service! ;)

Well, three tanks rolled by and they shelled something from a helicopter just now. Hope the night is quiet. We'll all be having a couple beers in Jerusalem when we get out of this mess. Write me funny stuff or mundane stuff that has nothing to do with the Occupation, please! Especially send raucous jokes to read off.

Hope to hear from you all soon.
-Le Anne

PS. The first morning of the invasion, I completely charcoaled two pieces of toast in rapid succession. The last two pieces of bread in the house. And the house was full of smoke. Really, this was because the phone kept ringing off the hook. Really. Good thing we found a renegade bakery while out on patrol. And we aired out the house.

Home Again

Home Again
May 29, 2002

Hi everyone,

I saw so many people over the weekend that I normally write home to that I forgot I should write to tell the rest of you I'm home! I will be in Mason City until Tuesday the 11th of June. Just a short hop home. A little shorter than I expected, because the flight was cancelled, meaning an extra 24 hours in Tel Aviv. There is nothing to do in Tel Aviv besides go to the beach, and hang out in the hostel and watch MTV. [MTV is pretty darn funny if you are no longer accustomed to watching TV after two years.] I did both, and it put me in a good mood for handling airport security. I was calm and chipper, and got the lady who frisks people to crack up so she was having a hard time doing her job.

I think I have been missing several emails people have sent me, at least I gather from the chiding I am getting for having not responded. Also, several friends have said they don’t want to bother me with ‘boring stuff’ from home, because of the life I live in Hebron. I say, feel free to write as much as you like about 'boring stuff,' because 'boring stuff' not involving lethal conflict is usually just what I want to hear about when I'm working over there. :)

I am working on a training curriculum for international volunteers going to help out in Palestine for the next day or so. Then I will be free to visit and talk to people.
Hope to hear from you all soon!

Le Anne

Aftermath

Aftermath
May 8, 2002

Hi everyone,

Well, it's beginning to feel like going home time for me again. I only have two-odd weeks left until the 22nd, my fly-home date. Unfortunately, I only have two-odd weeks home before I have to be back here. (The 12th) I suppose that's how life is, getting your vacations when you don't need them as much and being scrunched for time when you wish you had a year off to put things in context. It could be worse. Greg is here for five months straight, with maybe a week's visa renewal break in between. Hopefully after this year's staff retreat, there will be a generous break afterwards, where I'll have time to both decompress and do some speaking. This time around will be 99% decompression. At least it's not to the point of de-depression.

It has been a difficult time. My friend Huwaida has been deported for helping smuggle international accompaniment volunteers into the Church of the Nativity; however, her good work has prevented much death and destruction there. She and another friend Adam Shapiro (who you saw on CNN and Good Morning America a few weeks ago, receiving death threats against his family in Brooklyn--causing them to flee--for helping Palestinians get medical aid during the invasions in Ramallah) are getting married and will try to get back in the country again soon. Huwaida went on a hunger strike
when they arrested her demanding no travel restrictions for international humanitarian volunteers. She managed to get some guarantees in writing before they shipped her out. I hope I get to see her again. If not, I'll be shipping her a case of Diet Coke and a box of chocolate to Michigan.

I haven't seen Neta or heard from her since she got out of Arafat's compound. I figure she's resting from the month-long ordeal and/or lying low. Nor have I seen any of my friends outside of Hebron for a very long time. That's one of the difficult things about living in an active war zone. Another friend, Brian, is still in Jenin camp. He doesn't want to leave as long as there's another journalist who will come to get an interview. I don't know whether he is still there because he's exceptionally strong and principled, or because he's totally cracked up. After coming back from Nablus, people told me I was the former, but I sure felt like the latter. So's the rest of the team, each in their own
different ways, but hey, at least we have each other here.

Talk to you soon,
Le Anne

Return from Nablus: Streets of Blood, Cloud of Death

Return from Nablus:
Streets of Blood, Cloud of Death
April 23, 2002

Hi everyone,

I just returned with the delegation from Nablus last night. We are now in Hebron, and heading out to the village of Dura tomorrow morning. We have been serving as international observers/ witnesses to the effects of the invasions on cities throughout the West Bank, and accompanying local medical and relief workers to assist the civilian victims. There is much to write, especially to say that these invasions were promoted by the military to 'take out the terrorist infrastructure.’ In reality, in nearly every city, they took out the infrastructure, period. The city centers and facilities and nearly everything else that makes a city a city has been decimated. Bullet and tank shell holes in every single building along the main streets and the old city market. Many of the oldest houses will have to be torn down, their thick stone walls cracked open. Thousands of vehicles, even school buses, were flattened by tanks. But that is another letter to write. In the meantime, you can look at jerusalem.indymedia.org to find out more about the invasions.

Right now, I am trying to decide which of what I saw in Nablus I will have nightmares and flashbacks from first. Will it be the mass grave dug across the street from the clinic in which we slept--a long ditch which already held fifteen bodies of combatants and civilians, adults and children, and will hold at least another sixty yet to be buried? Or will it be the refrigerated milk truck, used as a temporary morgue to hold all the dead because the hospital morgue was never built to hold so many?

Will it be the first street into the old city, where many butcher shops were, and also much fighting? The street itself is no longer there. The military took up the pavement, which lies in piles here and there. Instead there is mud everywhere. The city is coated in dirt. On the first day wesaw the damage, it was raining. Blood was pooled in the streets. A large piece of muscle was coated in mud. I didn't know whether it was animal or human. Scraps of flesh and more blood were under a piece of tin roofing we passed.

We went to the hospital and visited with the wounded. Some were fighters, and others were civilians. Many had been wounded when rockets hit their homes, or their homes collapsed on them. I saw toes blown away, missing limbs, steel pins holding together bones. One man was screaming in agony as the nurse changed his bandages. He was burned by one of the bombs. In the bed next to him was a farmer who had been in the fields with his sheep when the settlers came, a few weeks before. They killed all the sheep, then they beat him and left him for dead. When he regained consciousness,he dragged himself home.

Will it be the site of a large ancient home which used to hold 20 families? All made it out except one family of eight when the bulldozers came. They were found crushed only a few feet inside their door. There are piles of wreckage two and three stories high in places where houses used to be.

One was next to the church of St. Demetrius. As we walked over the rubble, the medical workers who were guiding us told us dozens of priests were yet unaccounted for. They thought the bodies would probably be found somewhere underneath. I do not know how they will get a bulldozer in that tiny alleyway to take the rubble away. I don't even know where they will put the stones when they try to clean up that area.

Will it be the blood spatters on a wall, the only thing left of three people who sought shelter under an overhang in Balata refugee camp? Actually, the missile never exploded. It is thrust deep underneath the shop. Yet the force of the impact shattered foundations across the street, and propelled one of the men through the metal shop doors and embedded his body in the back wall.

I think what I will remember longest is when we were asked by the hospital staff to come to the morgue and witness the injuries of three boys who were killed. They were all in a car when apparently a tank ran over it. The twelve year old was missing the right half of his skull, his brains collected in a plastic sack on the gurney. His only other injuries werecuts on the back of his hands. It seems he tried to protect his head the way we were taught in tornado drills in school. The six year old's head was simply split open. Another brother, maybe eight years old, had blood which covered and encrusted his hair. The rest of their tiny bodies were untouched. The father is in critical condition in a Jerusalem hospital, the mother cannot be found. Another little boy in the car survived. I wonder, do they know what happened? Where are they now?

Despite the wounds, it was hard to believe they were dead. The twelve year old's head was tilted slightly towards me, his eyes open. He looked as if he was just waking up from a nap and sleepily noticed I was in the room. It was the similar with the six year old, who looked like he was sleeping peacefully with his lips just parted. Time seemed to stop while I looked at them. One of our delegation members was asked to take picturesof the injuries. Then the morgue workers bandaged up their heads and wrapped them tightly with a sheet, leaving their faces uncovered in the traditional manner here.

While I found it strange how composed I felt while standing next to the children's bodies, when we left the morgue, I had a strong biological reaction that I can't quite put to words. I canonly describe without the real experience as what an early miscarriage must be like. We all returned to the clinic where we were staying feeling barely able to stand.

I have kept thinking about that mother, missing somewhere, wondering. Perhaps it is because so many mothers here are my age, and some keep handing me their children to hold in hopes that it will encourage me in the same direction. Twenty-four hours earlier, I had two beautiful children of a perfect stranger curled up in my lap. Two young Danishvolunteers who were with us had witnessed the 'accident'. I wonder what I would have done if I had been there. As my thoughts drift that direction now, I think I would have gone out of my mind, trying desperately to stop it even when it was too late. Would I, insane with horror, have allowed myself to be crushed as well?

Some of my other thoughts since then have included wishing I could find that mother and have a baby myself to give to her, to begin to make up for all she has lost. Or maybe to make up forthat made-in-America, paid-by-America tank that took her family. After all, I have seen more American-made weapons here in three days than most Americans see in their lifetimes.

Greg told me he had an emotional breakdown yesterday in Dura, which is also a grim situation. A man took him into his house, which was not hit by the tank fire. His was next door. He showed him how the internal walls had collapsed all the same, and a pile of heavy rubble in one corner. "That is where we put our two year old so she would be safe," he told him. The safest place in the house. Miraculously, she survived. He broke down anyway. He said, "it's not the violence, it's not the death....it's the innocence that's getting to me.'

Tonight is not the time for me to write rationally. Our reports will be written, facts documented, the whos and hows and whys and where exactlys will get printed sooner or later. Tonight I write only to begin to express that thick, heavy, cloud of evil that is weighing on me and covers the land. I finally have realized what evil is.

"You Think These Are Children?"

“You Think These Are Children?”
March 26, 2002

[The following is an update I prepared for CPT’s news service following an especially intense morning.]

Tuesday, March 26, 2002. Curfew
At 6:45am, CPTers Le Anne Clausen and Christine Caton accompanied the principal of Ibrahimi school to the concrete barrier in front of his school to ask soldiers if the school would be open. The patrol of four soldiers arrived and refused to reply to either the CPTers or the principal, walking around them as if they were not there. After several attempts in Hebrew, the officer finally told the principal the school was closed. The principal went on to Tarik ibn Ziyyad school and the CPTers to Khalil and Khadijeh schools. (Six schools are clustered together in a large block south of the Ibrahimi mosque in H2). They stationed themselves at the intersection between the entrances to the schools and the soldier checkpoint. Several dozen young students were entering the schools without incident. The CPTers observed two soldiers stationed at the checkpoint aiming at individual children and making firing gestures. In the meantime, the soldiers were using the loudspeaker system of their jeep to shout sexual slurs in Arabic at a junior high aged girl who had to pass by the checkpoint in order to get to school. She put her head down and walked quickly into the school.
During this time, border police jeeps were racing up and down the roads around the schools. The CPTers calmly stood in the street, and the jeeps did not attempt to pass. Twice during this time, the checkpoint soldiers advanced with their machine guns poised as if to enter the street full of children. When the CPTers remained in their places, the soldiers retreated. At no time during the CPTers’ presence in the street was any provocation made by the students.
At this time, at least one of the jeeps in the area turned around and went down the next street to the Tarik ibn Ziyyad school. At approximately 7:30, as classes began, they heard shots, explosions, and screams from the direction of the school. The principal returned to the CPTers soon after that and told them to come quickly. The teachers at Khalil and Khadijeh discussed whether to let the CPTers leave their present position, but felt the situation was worse at Tarik ibn Ziyyad. As soon as the CPTers left the area, soldiers threw a percussion grenade into the street at the entrance of the schools.
When the CPTers arrived at the Tarik ibn Ziyyad school entrance, they observed the same patrol of four soldiers blocking students’ and teachers’ access to the school. A female soldier was firing at children about a block away, who were not throwing stones at the time. Immediately after her fire, some of the children threw stones in the soldiers’ direction. When Clausen tried to speak with the soldiers, they spoke aggressively with her in Hebrew and Russian. However, as Clausen continued to confront the soldiers, she realized that the soldiers understood English and were refusing to speak with her. Clausen asked one of the female soldiers, (who was an officer), why they were firing at the children. She replied, “It’s curfew.” When Clausen asked why the female soldier who was being most aggressive felt the need to fire at children, she shrieked back, “You think these are children?” She was pointing to a ten or twelve year old boy on a roof across the street. Clausen pointed out the age of the child she was pointing at, and received no response. As the soldiers were firing at the children, the soldiers each had expressions of enjoyment on their faces.
Diagonally across from the school, the two male soldiers ran suddenly up a street and threw both a tear gas grenade and a percussion grenade up the street. Several dozen female teachers and students were still lined up nearby. Caton was overcome by the gas and was briefly treated inside the school.
Clausen escorted several elementary school-aged children back to their homes. The children were terrified by the situation and had to be coaxed away from the school gate.Once most of the students had been evacuated from the area, the CPTers waited inside the school for the street to quiet down. While inside, they heard live shots fired from the soldiers’ M-16s. The CPTers were then asked by the principal to stand near the boys’ and girls’ school to protect the children and teachers who were being released to go home. Caton and Clausen stationed themselves near the doorway of the boys’ school. The two soldiers up the street were watching them as this happened. The CPTers then moved up to the girls’ school next door as the girls and teachers quickly moved out of the school and down the street.
At the same time some boys down the street had set two piles of garbage on fire, but were not throwing stones. This caused the two soldiers to come down the street with their guns pointed at the children, which included not only the boys but also approximately 150 girls and female teachers. When the CPTers saw the soldiers they moved into the street in a deliberate manner with their arms stretched out to get in the way between the children leaving school and the soldiers with their pointed and aimed guns. The soldiers gestured to them that they wanted to shoot and that we should get out of the way. When we did not move the soldiers stopped and put down their guns, and moved away. The soldiers repeated this three times. Caton and Clausen stayed in the street until the children and teachers were safely out of the soliders’ range.
After all the children and teachers had been evacuated, Caton and Clausen returned home to the CPT apartment.

Destruction in Bethlehem

Destruction in Bethlehem
March 17, 2002
Hi everyone,I am just catching up on some of the damage from the invasions I'm sure you've heard about in the news. In Bethlehem, the Dheisha Refugee Camp's youth center and guest house were badly damaged, with particular 'attention' to the after-school program's computer center. Also damaged was the new Lutheran school in Bethlehem, which was hit by tank fire. Naheida and her family spent most of the week huddled in the housewhile soldiers fired into their neighborhood. In Ramallah, the Tannous' also spent the week inside and downstairs, and I had the shock of seeing their house on the airplane news with a tank rolling down the street in front of it. They have also been without electricity and water all week. This is the first time since the Intifada began that this has happened in their neighborhood. Fortunately, both families are fine. Apparently, aLutheran church leaders' delegation arrived (three carfuls) while surveying the damage in Ramallah, and Mrs. Tannous still wowed all of them with hospitality. I've always said this woman is Palestine's answer to June Cleaver. I'll write more as I find out and get over to Bethlehem and Ramallah to visit them.
Le Anne