Back in the USSR

The Immigration officer is in one of about twenty little boxes, staggered in front of a barrier leading to the luggage hall, he's pale and thin, gaunt even. "Shalom" I hand him my passport. "Ah! An Irishman!" He's all funny uncle smiles, usually they are hostile, accusing. "You get many today?" "No your the first and probably the last" Then he confides."I like the Irish, much more than the English." He wrinkles his nose and nods his head side to side at the very thought. "Yeah...Me too!". He's flicking through the pages of my passport, I spent about 8 months in Palestine last year, my last attempt to re-enter from Egypt got me a three month visa extension with the three month bit crossed out and two weeks written in biro next to it. "What is the purpose of your visit?" "I'm voluntering at the Arab Americian University in Jenin. I'm a teacher." Lie "For how long?" "Three months" Lie "Really, Jenin...You'll find no Bulmers* there!" "Ha Ha - Ha Ha" "Ha Ha- Ha Ha" "Ha Ha - Ha Ha" "Ha Ha- Ha Ha" "Tell you what! I'll give you a month" As he's stamping it, "You won't find any loyalists there either" "Excuse me?" "In Jenin. They're all on our side" After another search and X-raying, I looked in my passport. He'd given me two weeks.

*Irish Cider

Filistine

Nablusi cat

Dora the explorer, Ramallah.

Kids playing football in Sebastia. When I arrived the kids were playing ball on a pitch that you can just see on the right of frame, when i took out my phne to take a picture, the all legged it over and started kicking their ball around the ruins to make a photo-opportunity for me.

The reinterment of a martyr in Nablus, the guy had died in a prison in Israel in the seventies. His remains are in the back of the truck.

TABA

I crossed back at Taba border crossing on the Egypt/Israeli Border. After being questioned by the border police, I was waiting in the hall, it was really quite, a young woman border cop sitting next to me, thats her above. I started chatting to her. How long will I have to wait? I asked. Where are you going she said, Jenin I answered, a LONG time she said Laughing, Why? I asked, There are many activists come to fight the police and soldiers and cause trouble she told me. Do yo live in Eilat? Yes. Do you like it? No, it's a bubble... Don't you dive or snorkle? No it hurts my ears..Oh really, and flying, does that hurt your ears too? uhuh it does.. I told her that in India years ago this guy sat beside me on the street and handed me a notbook full of testimonies from other tourists about what an amazing job he had done cleaning their ears and recommending that the reader also get him to clean their ears. I was waiting for a taxi to the airport and wasn't interested, the guy was persistent, but and I'd kept saying no, I'd no money and was on my way to the airport. Then he'd thrust this really long knitting needle thing into my ear and told me not to move, I could feel the thing way inside my head, terrified I could hardly breath, he poked around for a bit and then pulled the pin out and there was a pea sized lump of grey waxy stuff on the end of it, and my ear felt so clear and light, then he asked how much I was gonna pay him. I gave him what I had and he was pissed off, so did a crap jon on my right ear. It was over ten years ago and my head still feels lopsided. Then another Border guard joined us, she had a bindi on her forehead, and said that a an old Indian woman had put it on her forehead and told her she was beautiful. She's right I said 'cos she was and she said thanks. I'd recently got a taxi ride in Nablus, the driver told me his family were refugees from '67 and now lived in a camp in Jordan, he was back because he'd married a Palestinian woman. As he took me through an Israel checkpoint he was civil and even plesant to the soldiers. He'd been a soldier in the Jordanian army and understood the deal he told me, they were just soldiers they don't make any decisions. I thought this was big of him, and decided if they're plesant to me that I'll be plesant back. My new friend with the Bindi made that funny side to side head gesture that Indian's make. It's like a wierd side to side movement that says hi, how are you nice to see you all at once. Then we spoke about this book called santhraham, a huge doorstop of a book about a guy on the run in Bombay, kinda book you know is all made up but enjoy anyway. We'd both read it. Then she said how she hated it when big groups of indians came through because her hands got so greasy and they always had to wash their hands after. I don't know, maybe this is true. Ive never handelled the passports of 50 Indian tourists. It just sounded so racist. Maybe it's cos they eat with their hands, I said. Trying to make things better. The manager of the border crossing came out of her office and gave me my passport. The stamp said three months, but she'd crossed that out and written two weeks. You need to go to the ministry of the interior she said.

Sinai

On my first day I was floating over this vast upsidedown coral cathederal, never seen anything like it. There's colourful fish all around me and I'm in the middle of thousands of tiny silver fish all moving as one, light was moving through the water like organ music bouncing off everything, and I still felt like shit, what the fuck ?

Day three I was floating, hands round my knees, looking for the longest time into the eyes of this Green and Electric blue and white square shaped fish that was peeking from under a shelf of Coral. I became was embarassed and ashamed for being in foetal position, like i didn't want the fish to think i was a baby. I laughed and we had a moment together and I really let go.

The Cat's Pajamas

At the Nablus Childhood Happiness Center

Joseph Tomb posse

Then

Now


Joseph, of technicolour dreamcoat fame's bone's are buried here they say. Palestinian soldiers guard the site, but they split and Israelis soldiers take control of the area when the settlers come to pray. It's a flashpoint. It stinks of shit, one of the side rooms has been used as a public toilet.

On the street outside some kids showed me there breakdance moves.





Then they took me on a ten minute walk to the "hash-hish" which I later learnt means grass so they could do flips and not get hurt. The Hashhish was in the meridian between four lanes of traffic on the main road outta town.

AK-47

Exquisite corpse or Cadavre exquis game with 10 year old 6th-ish graders from Askar camp.
There's a wierd cuteness when kids say murderous stuff so innocently, like the kid I met in Bethlehem who told me his heroes were Avril Lavine and Osama Bin Laden (this was well before his death).



Here's one by Man Ray, Joan Miró, Max Morise and Yves Tanguy