Jim and
I woke before everyone in the flat this morning, and decided to
go the market to buy supplies for the day’s cooking. As
we tossed garlic and chili peppers into our bag, the now too familiar
sounds of machine gun fire filled the air. People began running
and vendors quickly packed their fare. We had thought that curfew
had been lifted from 8 to 8, but the IDF apparently decided that
was too generous.
Jim and
I couldn't make passage to the flat, so we hid in the marketplace
until we could make phone contact with the rest of our flat mates
(there are ten men and myself). We all met at the city center,
and were soon confronted by tanks. Young children followed after
the tanks throwing small stones. A symbolic gesture of defiance,
as a stone couldn't barely begin to dent these dinosaur sized
tanks. The soldiers threw out a sound grenade which frightened
everyone because it was black instead of the usual bright orange.
As the
tank moved on we followed to provide some protection for the children
who were still on the streets. I had to struggle to keep up, as
we were running quite quickly at some points. Youel looked back
at me, "Someone is going to get shot today." He announced.
My eyes turned fierce. "Don't say that!" I insisted.
As I turned round a corner, the tank opened fired on the street.
I saw our men hit the ground and I hid myself. It was chaos, and
then the tank rumbled on. Suddenly, I felt my throat and chest
burning. Tear gas. But, we only got it in whiffs as the tank rolled
away.
Welcome
to Jenin. The rules are different here, with the soldiers, with
the locals. It's a whole new horror story, but I feel really honored
to be here, and maybe get the chance to help some.
Tamara
(I'm
leaving right now for the Red Crescent where I hope to get a job
on the ambulances or perhaps work at the hospital on the maternity
floor.)
