Happy Camping?

Lying at the foot of a hill, dust blows in the dry heat down Jalazone camps’ quiet streets. The initially temporary accommodation has slowly become more permanent as the camps 15,000 residents acknowledge that departure is unlikely to happen anytime soon. Frequently the prefabricated concrete houses give way to abandoned structures baring the soot and bullet scars of one of the many armed confrontations. Rubbish lines the streets and piles high in corners whilst stray cats fight amongst the dirt.

The residents of Jalazone are some of the 8,000,000 Palestinian refugees made homeless by Israel’s creation in 1948. Gathering little more than their keys, the refugees expected to return within days, only to find their homes had been taken by Jewish immigrants along with all of their possessions. In further defiance of U.N resolution 194 the Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu recently stated that: “The problem of the Palestinian refugees would be solved outside of Israel’s borders”. Desperation and poverty are in the air here, but the Palestinian will for armed resistance has been smashed by decades of occupation.

Immediately a group of young Arabs outside a makeshift café invite me to sit with them and within 5 minuets a small crowd has gathered. Aside from the usual questions about England, the main question that always crops up is simple: “How do I get a Visa to England?” I ask why so many people want to leave: “What do we have here? We have nothing. No healthcare, no education, no jobs and no future.” Unemployment in the West Bank currently runs at 30%, the average wage is less than $10, skirting close to the world poverty line of $2 a day.

Jalazone sits in the shadow of an Israeli settlement named Beit El. Strategically placed, the settlements allow Israel to drill into the local water table and sustain its aggressive irrigation policies - Israel now controls 4/5 of the natural aquifers. Palestinians are forbidden from sinking new bore holes or deepening existing wells and can do little but watch as their crops whither and die. To add insult to injury the Palestinians are forced to buy back their own water from the Israeli water company at vastly inflated prices whilst Beit El discharges its raw sewage straight into the heart of Jalazone.

Hammam, a 23-year-old local offers to show me around on his moped. I ask him about the prisoners Ayman spoke of a few days before. At night the Israelis will come into the camp and use explosives to blast open the doors of peoples homes before arresting the people inside. He points out houses this has happened too – it is most of the houses on the street. I ask why the Israelis take people: “We do not know why. You do not ask.” I question why not: “Because if you ask, they shoot you. My cousin is spending 20 years in an Israeli prison, he does not know what he has done but we cannot afford a lawyer to challenge the court marshal.”