Wiped off the map: South Hebron Hills part 1

So I’m cycling up from the lowest place on earth, at the hottest time of day. ‘You’re so stupid,’ I tell myself, scouring my surroundings for an inch of shade. There is none. I sit at the roadside with my map on my head for a bit of protection from the burning sun.

It is a horrible, Zionist map. A ‘Super Touring Map of Israel’, the cover proclaims. The map includes the whole of the West Bank, with all the illegal settlements marked, as though it is all Israel. Many Palestinian towns, and most Palestinian villages, are not labeled. Slightly ironic that this is my tool for exploring and learning about Palestine.

I automatically trace the most logical route to my destination: from Fasiyel, down to Jericho, up up up, then into Abu Dis, through Jerusalem, and into Bethlehem to stay the night with a friend before continuing to the South Hebron hills.

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Having climbed up to sea level and beyond, passed the massive sprawling settlement of Ma’aleh Adumim (home to 30,000 settlers), it felt good to get to Abu Dis. Staying focused on the road full of maverick drivers, whilst not ignoring the chorus of ‘welcome, welcome!’ is a necessary skill to cycle through Palestinian towns.

I was just negotiating this balance when I suddenly faced the wall. The 8-metre high concrete separation wall was blocking my route. ‘I forgot’, I thought – again reprimanding myself for stupidity. It felt bizarre to have the luxury of forgetting that I couldn’t just cycle from Abu Dis to Jerusalem. They were so close on the map.

So I cycled around the golden city, winding up and down the hills to Bethlehem. After a restorative evening with a friend from university (and porridge for breakfast!), I was pedalling once more.

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The ride was beautiful and hilly. Dusk was just settling in as I approached Atawna, I had made it! I turned off the main road, down a bumpy track to the village. Water tanks perched on every roof, unpaved roads, it was a total contrast to the towns around. Something felt quite strange though. After a series of weird interactions, where I tried to speak some Arabic, but got mostly Hebrew in return, the whole atmosphere was shouting at me: something is wrong.

It was only after a rang my friend at the Freedom Theatre and asked him to speak to someone in the village, to try and give me directions, that suspicions were confirmed. ‘Next time give me to someone who knows something about Palestine!’ my aggravated friend said down the phone. I was in fact in Israel. (Palestine ’48).

Feeling quite scared now in this less-than friendly village, with darkness descending rapidly. I tried to get out of the maze of walls and houses as fast as possible, being chased by barking dogs helped with the speed, although also accelerated the fear. Back on the main road, I pedalled my heart out and breathed a sigh of relief as I got back through the check point.

By this time, it was too dark to cycle safely to At-Twani – the Palestinian village I had been aiming for (which didn’t appear on the map). It wasn’t far though, I stuck my thumb out, got a lift, and received a wonderful warm welcome.

The next morning I was sitting on a hilltop, reunited with the Freedom Ride group, listening to Nassar from the Popular Struggle Committe for the South Hebron Hills. To the left of us the village of At-Twani (much prettier than Atawna) is nestled neatly among the slopes, sheep roaming, scattered olive trees, and traditional stone walls lining the roads. To our right, is an illegal settlement.

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It’s hard to digest what Nassar describes of the problems the village faces. In addition to the usual struggles in Area C – where people are not allowed to build at all, not even plant a tree, or develop infrastructure in any way, Palestinians living in these hills face consistent and violent attacks from those living in the settlements (in this area mostly radical orthodox Jews).

Just a few days ago, a six year old girl suffered a head injury after being hit with stones by settlers. This is not unusual, children travelling to the school in At-Twani from the neighbouring villages have to pass close to a settlement, often incurring attacks and abuse as they make the daily journey to get an education.

In order to report an assault, Palestinians in the region have to go to the Israeli police station. Despite hundreds of incidents, with incontrovertible evidence presented, not a single settler has ever been charged with anything. The rule of law simply does not apply to them.

Last week, one child had a panic attack faced with their usual route to school, past the settlement. Today, a couple were assaulted; thankfully they were not hurt, but badly shaken by the experience. It is practically a daily occurrence, Nassar tells us, and for most attacks, the psychological impact remains a lot longer than the wounds.

Just as we were all feeling quite depressed and concerned about what Palestinians in this area are having to face, their lack of safety in their own homes, and the pure lack of humanity shown to them by the settlers and occupation authorities, we were reminded once more that it would take more than even this to destroy their spirit!

Celebrating Palestinian heritage day we were treated to wonderful acts of singing, dancing and theatre from children in the school, and people of the community. It was Palestinian culture at its most vibrant, energetic, and fun.

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After speeches, graduations, and lots more dancing, we ate a feast of traditional Palestinian dishes. The food was delicious, with an amazing variety of flavours and textures.

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It was disturbing and incredible to witness these people, with such a wonderful rich culture face such injustice. The occupation and the settlers are trying every tool in the book to make their lives here not worth living, but the resolve of these Palestinians in the South Hebron Hills is strong and powerful. They are not leaving their land so easily.

According to the road map I have been using to cycle across this land, there is no Palestine. If you look on google maps, there is no Palestine.

So what about all of these Palestinians? Of these stunning songs passed through generations? Of this culture, so kind and hospitable that I breathe relief when I pass back through the check point to the West Bank?

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Right now, Israel is ethnically cleansing Palestine. Withstanding over a century of this Zionist project, Palestinians day in day out face the unjust realities of occupation and colonisation with determined spirit, and a call for support.

Time and time again we are asked to share their stories, ‘please, tell people in your countries what is happening’, right now these communities need a life line. They need something to restore faith in democracy, justice, and humanity.

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