The last training I ever gave

Today I was shown a newspaper photo of my friend Tom, just after he had been
shot in the back of the head while rescuing a child in Gaza.
I hadn't seen this photo before
I couldn't tear my eyes off his face
Later, I was badly shaken.

Just now I put down the thoughts in my head

Today in Toronto, I led a training. It was the CPT Ontario regional group
meeting, and I led three role plays and discussion about this week's past
events on team in Hebron. Afterwards, several of my 'students' came up and
thanked me for the training I gave.

You have a gift, you're very good at this, a natural, they said
I smiled
I guess it didn't go too badly

I remember the last student I had who thanked me for my training.
His name was Tom Hurndall.

The last training I ever gave in Palestine,
a tall, friendly boy my age
with dark hair and a slight beard,
gangly and gentle
A kindred spirit traveling Iraq and now Palestine
smiled and thanked me for the training I gave.
I feel safer and more confident now having been here with you, he said.

I smiled, received the compliment
touched his hand
and saw him off to Gaza.

Four days later, I received the terrible phone call.

He did everything right,
everything I taught him to do.
Everything I would have done.
Today I saw his photo
beautiful Tom
eyes wide open
as if calmly surveying the world
in reality,
dead.

His mother went to Gaza and held the boy he saved
he also is gangly and dark, with brown eyes and black hair

Above Tom is Alice.
Face wrenched in pain
hopeless, tormented
She also was my student
When she came she was petite and cute
redhead, shaved head, feminist
experienced activist
laughing, centered, solid

She's been in many famous photographs.
I think I've seen them all
Crouching over Rachel's broken body
in the dunes of Rafah
Melting into horror in the hospital upon learning of her death
Mouth gaping, body rocking
Her dignity torn away by the glare of television cameras

She did everything right
everything I told her to do
everything I would have done
Now as I am shown her distorted face
over Tom's distorted body
I am told now she will never get over this
I understand, Alice, neither will I

I remember Brian smiling
casual, chatting easily
strong and good looking

Sadly I am not so good with names and
I didn't realize it was him they were speaking of,
whose face was ripped away by the bullet
whose tongue and jaw and cheek and teeth
are shattered
who shall not smile for years
until someone finally found a photo of him
from 'before.'

Until then I had only seen
a bare body lying in the hospital bed
surrounded by tubes
and white cloth masking
where his smile used to be

The nauseating reality finally struck
I clung to my chair and waited for it to pass
it never did.

And here I have to pause and admit my shame
for being so glad it was not Tobias
With whom I made the sorrowful journey down to Gaza
and befriended, another kindred spirit
we shared admiration for each other's strength
we brought flowers for Rachel
how many flowers has he brought now
he's made this trip three times
Standing next to Brian under the streetlamp
He escaped,
only to have those terrible images seared into his brain

After Tom, he pleaded with me to come join them in mourning
and I wanted to desperately
But I also couldn't take it anymore
I am no longer strong
And he bore so much more than I did
He's still there

To make a friend one day,
And hear he is dead the next,
Then see his broken, bloodied body in the newspaper the next day.
How do you live?
Can I ever see another friend looking back at me through lifeless eyes
Can I ever take another phone call in the middle of the night?

I guess I really know now how it feels to be a Palestinian.
Or an Israeli.
The three years before were only practice in feeling

George, Rachel, Brian, Tom
My friends are dead and dying
broken
their shattered faces looking back at me
their bodies blending together
in my mind's eye.

[I don't begin to count the ones whose bodies are also broken
from beatings
and prison
still they live on
if only marginally inside
and I left the country
and I did not call
what kind of friend am I]

Already to account for the distorted corpses I have seen
I need more than fingers and toes
babies children fighters friends students teachers
Each face is still with me

The cries of the living, the wails of the maimed in Nablus
still ring in my ears tonight
drowning out the voices of the
perfectly normal whole complete people I mingle with now

Four years ago in an interview
someone asked me if I ever got angry.
I replied that there had been several indignities in my life
and I tended to ruminate when troubled
but no, I never really felt anger
It didn't seem worth it
They thought I must have been lying then
I assured them I was not
Now I know that indeed I was telling the truth

I feel the anger
it is burning
I am consumed with rage




-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
# people killed in terrorist attacks on Sept 11th: 3,700
# people killed by hunger on this date worldwide: 24,000
# children killed by diarrhea on this date worldwide: 6,020
# children killed by measles on this date worldwide: 2,700
.....................
# Afghan civilians killed by US forces in recent war: 5,000
# Iraqi civilians killed by US forces so far in this war: 2,500
# Iraqi civilians killed by US-enforced sanctions over past 13 years: 1.2
million
#Iraqis killed by US forces on Feb 27, 1991: 10,000
.....................
average # of people killed annually by draught and famine: 73,606
average # of children killed each year in conflict: 200,000
average # of children each year made homeless by conflict: 1,200,000
# African children under 15 living with HIV: 1,100,000
--------------------
Everybody counts.

Moving On...

Moving On…
April 22, 2003

Hi everyone,

While it is the end of April and was previously in the 90's around here, we've gotten a sudden chilly spell. I need to wear my mittens to sit here and type. We are in the cycle of dust storms followed by rains, then summer will truly be here. The trick in housekeeping is to use the rainwater to squeegee off the roof and floors before it cakes on impermeably.

Anyway.

Retreat time in Latroun was very good and much needed. It required brain cells I haven't used here for a while, such as those required for chanting in German and a little ancient Hebrew, plus speaking a little of both languages and quite a bit of Arabic, and picking up some Russian (it's an eclectic community). Also with lots of time to paint and cross-stitch as well, I felt like a million bucks up there. I reflected on the fact I have been in the field three very long years, and these past twelve months have been the longest. I still have a year left to go. Uff-da. It is a little strange to have a week's vacation and come out of it feeling like you really need...another vacation.

So in two weeks, I am accepting an offer for time away from this project, to help a little in the CPT office in Toronto, for about five weeks. Now, I know what all of you are thinking: Iraq is less dangerous at the moment, couldn't I go there instead? Well, maybe not all of you are thinking that, but I did just read the paper yesterday about Toronto's particular problems with SARS. After advising my friend Erin last week to please not breathe the air in China where she's working, I promise not to do any hospital accompaniment while I am in the north country. ;) I also promise not to walk up to any air vents in the airport and inhale deeply.

At any rate, the decision to depart here a month early was difficult, but once made sounds better and better all the time. I always fly through Toronto, only got to actually visit for about six hours once, when a teammate picked me up for a whirlwind tour between flights. I've got lots of CPT friends up there I'm looking forward to seeing. I'll be back in Iowa at the same time as previously planned, I expect, and will hopefully return to the Middle East in August, as previously scheduled. I still want to be here the next year, but I'll be much more energized for it if I do something different for a while now.

Ha, ha...I realize I have just achieved what 90% of Americans never do, according to the magazines...accepting the reality of the need to do less in order to live more...........and then doing it.

Before then though, I will be attending my Bethlehem friends' (Naheida's family's) land confiscation court hearing this Sunday. They could use your prayerful support. Hundreds of Wartburg students, Lutherans, and dozens of CPTers have spent time working on their farmland, which is now surrounded by Israeli settlements. Settlers have been harrassing them particularly this spring, and now they are going to court to challenge the land being taken for yet another settlement. The following Sunday, I will attend my friend George Rishmawi's wedding in Beit Sahour, which promises to be an event. He is one of 27 George Rishmawis in Beit Sahour, but I think he will be the only one with possibly more foreigners present than Palestinians. George is a long-time, very popular tour guide and peace activist here. I saw the Tannous' this weekend for their Palm Sunday (all of Ramallah is on the Eastern calendar for Easter this year) and they are well; I tried to help in making Mamool (date cookies) which are decorated very daintily, but it was easy to tell which ones were my not-so-handiwork.

Time to mop floors and clean up the rest of last weekend's dust storm, so we can be ready for this weekend's....

with peace,

Le Anne

Exhaustion

Exhaustion
April 13, 2003

hi everyone,

After receiving several "Where are you?!" notes, I am finally checking in. The tension of the war build-up, the grief from reports of friends' houses destroyed by bombing, the situation here including several deaths of colleagues in the past month, and other unfortunate encounters have left me exhausted and on edge, not really in a writing mood. It has been good to pass on reports and action alerts and have people respond that they've been helpful.

I am spending most of Holy Week on retreat in a German Lutheran community at Latroun, which is grassy, flowery, and has neat Crusader ruins. Probably I will be incommunicado (lost the cell phone yesterday, ending my two year championship title for not having lost any of our equipment.) I'll come back to Jerusalem Friday afternoon and rejoin the team for the holiday weekend.

A contemplative Holy Week to you all, and a blessed Easter...

Le Anne



"Why of course the people don't want war. . . That is understood. But, after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the
bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the peacemakers for lack of patriotism and for exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country."

~ Hermann Goering,
Nazi officer, during his Nuremberg war crimes trial.