From: mary gossman marygossman@hotmail.com
Subject: Marhaba from Kharbatha

Marhaba Everyone!

I should just start by saying that I am of course fine and in good health. I have not been writing and should try to explain why. While in Palestine last year, I was very busy with actions and witnessing. This did not allow for much personal time and therefore not much reflection. I think maybe this was a good thing for me. Things are much different this year. I spend most of my time meeting people and discussion the many issues surrounding the Occupation. I am so grateful for my time here and the beautiful people I meet, however, I am dealing with the situation much differently now. I have a lot of time to think and process what is happening here and throughout the rest of the world.

My heart is really heavy right now. I do not usually ask for help…but I really need each and every one of you to help me right now. Every time our government, politicians and corporations act, they are speaking for you and me. Even if you are not directly involved in these actions, you and I bear a large part of the responsibility. I truly believe "silence is compliance." If you are not doing something about the injustices committed in our name you are indirectly supporting them. Please forgive me if what I am saying is unclear. I have spent days listening to stories that would break your heart – a sixteen year old boy in jail for a year and his family has never spoken to him – a man forced to divorce because his wife is in Jordan and they haven't been allowed to travel to see each other in over three years – life in a refugee camp – death – humiliation – poverty – loss of opportunity – no HOPE…

Well, I wrote this a week or so ago. I don't know what I was thinking other than I wanted people to know my heart is bruised right now. I want to make myself understood – Palestinians make a clear distinction between Americans and the American Government. They do not hate us. There are many questions about what we think and why we are not helping Palestinians. It is difficult to see so much pain and suffering. I just feel a lot of pressure and need help sharing the burden of trying to repair some of the damage done in our names. I will not continue with this…there is much more I want to talk about.

Tom and I went to Jerusalem for a short break and to collect information and maps that will help us continue our work at home. Last Friday, I went and stood with Women in Black in Jerusalem. Women in Black is now worldwide, but started here with Palestinian and Israeli women standing silently in solidarity against the Occupation and the violence. I held three signs that said "Stop the Occupation" – one in Hebrew, one in Arabic, and one in English (I don't think I need to explain why). It was a wonderful experience and I meet people from many places including Minnesota. I really felt like I was doing something important. Please know that many Israelis were very angry. We were cursed at and spit on by many passersby. I never stopped smiling. I still reach out with love and kindness and said, "I understand." I refuse to be part of the violent cycle, even verbally. I believe in love and kindness even if I am still learning to incorporate it into every part of my daily existence.

Later that night, Tom and I went to get some ice cream outside of Damascus gate. We heard gunshots and found two Arab men shot by Israeli soldiers. We later found out the two men had been fighting and the soldiers shot them to break up the fight. One man was shot in the hand and the other in the chest. What was really disturbing about this event is what followed. A small crowd gathered around the men and the soldiers were becoming increasing irritated. They yelled at people to leave and charged them with batons when they did not. I was standing a good distance away but letting the soldiers know of my presence. They charged again and I did not move. They ran past me and beat a man who was in the back of the crowd running away from the soldiers. The man fell to the ground and lost consciousness. When two men attempted to make it back to where the soldiers were so they could call for help, they were chased off and threatened with guns. Help finally came about a half and hour later. I lost my appetite for ice cream after reaffirming my belief that the Occupation and the Army are constantly increasing tensions and doing harm not just in the Territories but also within Israel.

Tom and I also took a trip to Abu Dis. It is a town outside of Jerusalem but within the Occupied Territories. I had seen areas where the Wall was being worked on and the actual Wall from a distance, but never up close. So we went. It was a long walk and a fairly quiet one between Tom and I once the Wall came into view. I hope you have seen the pictures and do not believe the propaganda that is being feed to us by America and Israel. I looked at the Wall for some time and finally had to touch it. All I want to say is the WALL is cold, ugly and built with money provided by you and me.

I have one last thing to tell you about. For the past five days, I have been living in a village called Biddu outside of Ramalla. The Wall is being built in several areas simultaneously in this area. I do not have time to explain all of the effects of the Wall right now. I will say it is stealing the land and livelihood of thousands of Palestinians and cuts them off from necessities and loved ones. It truly is a strangulation Wall.

On Sunday, we went to a demonstration against the Wall in a village named Kharbatha. I have so much to say about these three hours, but I will try to make this concise. When we (five internationals) first arrived there were young boys running away from the demonstration suffering from tear gas. We approached with caution and concern. A few of us went to the front of the crowds where Palestinians and soldiers were face to face. This was my first time involved in a demonstration like this so I did not engage verbally at this point. All of the sudden, the soldiers began running away from the crowd and I was quite confused. A Palestinian man hollered at me in Arabic and I understood the word "head". I looked back and the Palestinians were running away and taking cover. I got down immediately. By the time I realized I was not protected it was too late. I was on top of a fairly flat rock like a lizard catching sun. First came the tear gas, next the sound bombs, and finally rounds and rounds of "rubber bullets". They are actually steel that is coated in thin, hard plastic. They were closer than I care to tell and you could hear them and see them. I was more scared than I have ever been in my life. I wanted to leave and realized that I had no way out. If I got up or even picked up my head, I would be in greater danger. This is how it went for hours. The soldiers would run up and confront the crowd and then cower behind their guns. I finally found my strength when three female teachers and their female students marched to the demonstration and walked right up to the front. They were chanting and sitting peacefully when soldiers approached. Drawing on their strength, I decided to engage with the soldiers. I was in-between the two groups. I was asking the soldiers to look into the eyes of the people they were beating. I told them I understood they were angry, frustrated, and didn't necessarily want to be there. I told them to realize they have the power and the choice – use it wisely. There was no reason to tear gas and shoot at women who were chanting and sitting peacefully. Some soldiers looked at me and even responded. Most just ignored me but others began shoving, pointing their guns, and yelling at me.

During this short time, over 37 people were treated after being shot with "rubber bullets". All but a handful was shot above the waist. Many more were shot and did not seek medical help. I know this because Tom was shot in the ribs and I wasn't with him nor could I go to him for fear of flying bullets. I heard the news over a telephone although he was maybe twenty yards behind. He is bruised but strong. He continued filming and bearing witness with amazing courage. I try not to cry to often but I really want to scream. During the day I saw two individuals shot in the head (although there were more). The first was a elderly woman who briefly put her head up to say "God is Great" and the other an Israeli activist who was confronting the army and demanding they put down their weapons and cease firing upon innocent civilians. Unbelievable!

Eventually the soldiers were sick of internationals like myself and they called in the border police who have the ability to arrest us. The number of soldiers and police were close to 100. They took out binoculars and we could tell they were pointing out the internationals who were on the front lines and engaging with the soldiers. There was one final attack. We knew it was coming because many soldiers put on large orange "necklaces" – each one consisting of about eight sound bombs. They charged and dispersed the crowd with at least thirty sound bombs in a matter of seconds. It was really sad to turn back and look at the faces of the soldiers as I fled and covered my ears. They were laughing and pointing at me – I was no longer standing with them face to face. They felt they had won some contest. The truth is everyone is losing. I yelled so they could hear, "you have guns, I only arm myself with peace and love."

One female international, Sonja, was arrested. Tom was forced to flee by himself down in a valley hiding from soldiers surrounding the area. My friend Gurdy and I were caught in a small clash and then cornered off by the police. Without explaining everything, we were detained with the intention of being arrested. I refused to go with them and slowly moved away while talking calmly and hopefully rationally. We provided the arresting Commander with an out and were able to usher a Palestinian detainee to safety with us.

I could go on but it is still painful for me to think about. After the demonstration, I talked with many young girls and boys. The boys feed me beans they picked from a nearby field and the girls painted my fingernails a bright orange color and put glitter on my face. For those who ask…this is why I am here.

I continue to work and to attend demonstrations. I struggled before I wrote this email. I know many of you will worry. This is not the purpose – I am but one of millions to worry about. The purpose of this email is to distribute the truth. I believe in it – I will fight for it – and the truth will win the conscious of the world!

Habibi and Habibti!

Mary

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