Journal, May 19-22, 2006 (edited June 14, 2006)—Gaza & Ramallah
Photos: Gaza-7
Other photos and writing
Dispatches from Gaza - 7
(Popular Achievement thru the American Friends Service Committee)
part one
By Skip Schiel
A bevy of beauties, last night, that is, dreams. Beginning with teaching a raucous high school level workshop in Quark Xpress, making mistakes pedagogically, running out of time, the equipment not working properly, so that all was chaos and I was shouting when the bell rang to end the session. Then, in a subsequent dream, I filled a small tube with gasoline, the gas would not stop flowing, I contaminated my hand while trying to twist shut the cap. Then I photographed a dance, finding a position as the dancers disappeared behind doors, ready for them when they came out. They’d changed costumes, I could now see legs, very tantalizing, and finally, one dancing gent came to a friend and me and invited us into the dance. We all hugged and sat down together. And in the last segment of my dream-filled night someone commented that “he always wears baggy suits,” describing my clothing style. As these words were uttered I saw myself in a mirror. Yep, baggy suits. Got to do something about that.
And so it went during the night, otherwise quiet, altho I heard what I guessed were several artillery shots, a report much sharper and louder than the usual Kalashnikov energy burst.
—Gaza, May 19, 2006
On a contrasting note, Ibraheem Shatali took me out for coffee and then falafel dinner, along with his brother, his friend Mohamed, and his colleague and my primary host, Ibraheem Khadra. A long lingering evening smoking the nargila or shasheesh (not me, no more smoke in my lungs), a non alcoholic beer (no booze allowed in Gaza), and probing questions from Ibraheem brother about how to end the occupation, how to use the media, what I do and why. I mentioned one of my revelations while in the hospital: write or phone Amy Goodman of Democracy Now and invite her to interview some of the people I’ve been with here, especially concerning the hospital—Mohanad el-Helo, Dr. Aref [cardiology department head], and Dr el-Sarrej, director of the Gaza Community Mental Health Program. I also encouraged the brother who works with Palestine TV and Ibraheem K, media coordinator for AFSC, to consider making videos and offering them to Democracy Now [she never replied].
The day was mild, once gain, even chilly as the wind blew up and the light waned. Only men frequented the outdoor coffee house, maybe a woman or two in the daytime, if with men. A rare women out at night in the commercial district, but only with husband or boyfriend or father.
We walked back from the restaurant, a swift and joyful journey, especially for me who suffers from the prohibition of walking alone, night or day. The soldiers are out with their rifles, guarding the balmy air of Gaza.
Meeting with Amal Sabawi and Ibraheem K at AFSC, we discussed our upcoming photo and writing workshops. Each for two sessions, each primarily for coaches, each a hands-on experience. Both generating outcomes, as they like to call results, that relate to the siege and the work of AFSC in Gaza. Good enough. I enjoy working with this staff. They are dedicated, talented, imbued with principles that I would call Quaker (respect for others, nonviolence, truth, simplicity), and hard working.
—Gaza, May 19, 2006
We held our 1st photography workshop session for AFSC yesterday, some 12 students for 2 sessions of basic photography. They are all either coaches or coordinators with the Popular Achievement program, and come from Gaza, Khan Yunis, Jabalyia and other places in the strip. They are an earnest and joyful set of young people, three women, the rest men.
However we have a problem with communication, economic means and an Arabic time sense. No one brought in the five earlier made photos that I’d requested. Only 1/2 had cameras. Three were on time, the others drifted in, some as late as two hours past start time. Mobile phones were a constant distraction. But they did have questions, and they were motivated to learn, and they did seem to appreciate my slender offering.
The translator, Hadeel, aided us immeasurably. She coordinates visits mostly of media people. She works closely with a Japanese TV producer and the BBC. She dresses in the western style: revealing. Unlike most women in Gaza who conceal their forms with a bland, dark, shapeless pants suit, Hadeel has chosen relatively snug clothing. She is not only expert in English but having a media background quickly understood most of the concepts I was trying to portray. Such as depth of focus. She was completely engaged and accepted my loan of a camera to practice with while the others did their in-class work.
After an introduction of ourselves to each other and an overview of the workshop, I launched into a rather technical discussion of camera principles. Thanks to the ever-resolute Ibraheem K we had a video projector that communicated with at least one of my cameras so I could demonstrate settings and techniques in real time. This is invaluable, and one of the greatest gifts of digital technology. I suggested several steps to making a photo—notice, think, try, and try again. This I demonstrated by making a series of photos of Ibraheem. Then I suggested three principles—follow the light, choose the position and time, design the photo. Here, and for the earlier steps, I demonstrated by imagining we were assigned to photograph the group. What would we do about the light, where would we put the camera, when would we expose the sensor, and how would we design the photo?
I brought in an array of my own photos, from Bil’in and Haifa, along with photos in various publications, and spread them out on a table for us to examine. I used these primarily to suggest ideas about design: where to put the center of attention, how to balance the photo, what to do about color, etc. I tried to remember the questions they’d asked at the outset and refer to them: flash, people, camera components and use, good pix, difference between digital and film, motion, being a pro, etc.
It went well, and I expect most will return for our second session.
One part of the plan did not happen—going outside to photograph in the field. Initially, talking the trip idea over with Ibraheem and Amal, I thought we decided to choose a location related to the siege. But Ibraheem didn’t remember this. So in the minutes before students arrived, Ibraheem and Hadeel and I decided to simply go to the beach. We can walk there, it is beautiful and a perfect day for the beach, and people probably won’t mind being photographed. However, life intervened. During the workshop a few faces registered alarm. Ibraheem pulled me aside, spoke in a low voice, and I thought he said, “We have a problem: someone planted a bomb in your building.”
My reaction was more puzzlement than alarm. A bomb, in my building, why? And how will I get my stuff out. Will I lose my computer?
Slowly the real story emerged, or a portion of it: someone, probably Hamas, had attempted to assassinate a key Fatah security official. So going outside was not advisable. Without knowing the whole story but noticing that people were clearly troubled, we remained either inside or close to the bdg and photographed what we could. I suggested two activities—in pairs, photograph each other, and then find something, not a person, that interests you and photograph it in at least three different ways, making use of the steps and principles I advised.
This worked marvelously well. People were engaged, enthused, daring, and I was around to happily chide and coach them, mostly about how to find certain camera settings. I should remember this idea for future workshops.
Perhaps a mark of success was being asked to pose with students while others photographed us. This might merely be a shot of a Gaza with a foreigner, but it could indicate respect and joy. Another mark of success was the quality of photos they made in class. Since all used digital they could show what they’d just made. Ibraheem downloaded a batch onto the computer for many to ogle over. And surely, when we meet again, seeing what they bring in will reveal the effectiveness of the teaching.
I have the opportunity to try all this again today, different group but all coaches and coordinators of Popular Achievement, but this time for writing. I’ll plan it after I finish this entry.
The two Ibraheems took me out for lunch at the local fast food eatery, Quick Bite. I had a traditional Palestine wrap of chicken and sauce, resembling a shwarma. Then, after a discussion of safety and wisdom, a walk thru part of town to the old hotel, the old and apparently famous marna house, with an outdoor café. Eventually a few others joined us. One excitedly told about being near a shoot out between rival factions, near the El-Dera hotel where we’d considered having lunch. In retaliation for a drive by shooting, a few men opened fire seemingly at random. The man telling the story narrowly missed being hit, someone next to him was shot in the shoulder. The storyteller exclaimed, “God saved me today.”
While I ate chocolate cake and sipped strong Turkish coffee, Ibraheem S confided to me how tough life is now in Gaza. Constant fear and uncertainty. No true safety, a form of collective insanity. What can we do about it? he said, then told us a plan that he and some friends cooked up. On Monday, they plan to go to the Parliament building and advocate for peace. They intend to do this by dressing in headgear that suggests collective suicide, a noose around their necks, and masks with writing pleading for peace. If I’m finished with my planned water tour with Amani, I will show up to photograph. While the storyteller continued I causally made a few photos. [more shooting stopped Ibraheem from inviting me, thinking it might be too dangerous, but the demonstration happened. They had to duck behind a bank for cover.]
Driving home with Ibraheem K we went past the site of the shooting. It was littered with burning tires, young men sat idly in doorways. I suppose anger seethed.
—Gaza, May 21, 2006
Yesterday [May 21, 2006] was the 1st of two writing workshop sessions, a direct result of Fida [director of AFSC youth programs in the West Bank] pushing me in this direction. Amal and Ibraheem picked a group of coaches and coordinators they thought would be interested in writing and who could benefit from the training. I organized it somewhat like what I’d done in Ramallah, but expanded because we had more time. The core was writing in class, two pieces, one about how they became a coach or coordinator, that story, and the 2nd either a story showing some important detail about their experience during the siege or the experience of their group. This came after I’d outlined a few principles—write freely, as if speaking, consider your audience, and edit for story flow and powerful effect. I invited participants to read a sample of their writing to the entire group and there was no shortage of candidates.
One major problem is translation. The woman translating for us, Rawand, a slightly portly, giggling college student studying English, with very good English, was good but the lag and the differences between original language and translated language can create troubles.
I also began the session with a word from Eduardo Galeano of Memories of Fire fame, about one of his guiding principles: sentipensante—the language of feeling and thinking. That is, mix the writing together, break the molds, the boundaries, and write interweaving feelings and thoughts. Talk about translation problems!—how did this concept register with the Arabic speakers?
Another problem we encountered was the varying degree of interest and involvement in writing. Altho the session began well enough, and all dutifully wrote the 1st assignment, about half did not write for the 2nd. Rather, a small group heatedly discussed the local political problems, mostly Hamas vs. Fatah. I tried to chide them, and push them back to writing, but I believe I failed. Later, discussing this with Amal, she offered that we do have a problem of motivation. She wishes to somehow concentrate on those who truly wish to write and learn to write and omit the others. This might naturally occur thru attrition.
For my personal writing—and I often thought of Louise in this role, writing teacher, and how she is so animated and concentrated and writes with her students—I chose to write 1st about how I became a photographer (since I’ve not become a coach or coordinator), and then about my experience with the siege, how I get around, or don’t get around, feeling trapped, not able to stroll, limited to taxis, and at 1st scared by the notion of a UN armored car with armed guards.
Following the AFSC writing workshop I was driven over to the Gaza Community Mental Health Program offices where Marwan eagerly awaited me, both to begin the writing assignment [a press release about the siege]—how did I get myself into this role?—and to download photos from Saturday in Bureij camp for Marwan to use personally and to give to Ragdha [a camp resident].
One positive note for the day, and unexpected: I’d mentioned loving the Egyptian dish, kushuri, to Ibraheem and Ibraheem. Ibraheem K had promised to bring me to his home and his mom would cook kushuri. He surprised me yesterday by plopping 2 large containers full of this delicious plebian dish on the table and inviting all in the office to consume it. We had a little party. He offered what remained to me for home use, I scooped up about half.
—Gaza, May 22, 2006
LINKS
Part two of this writing
Shooting & Shelling (written by Skip Schiel)
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