Politics of Ecstasy
Enough of food already, time for some politics. Who wants to take holidays in January? I had to use them or lose them. There was too much work on over last summer.
My wife & I decided to drive towards Glasgow & leave the car at the Science Centre & get a healthy walk in the freezing cold air. As we drove past my birthplace, we were surrounded by heavy traffic & a heavy police presence. There was the launch of the world’s most advanced warship, the type 45 destroyer: HMS Dauntless. Hold on a minute. Is this not a weapon of mass destruction? I suppose we here in Scotland should be grateful, that this is keeping at least 2 shipyards alive on the Clyde?
I mentioned some of this to my neighbour who was standing outside the new BBC building. He had parked his car at Partick & watched the launch from the north side of the river & he was on his way to buy some tickets for the Celtic Connections festival. We also passed Louise Batchelor who was filming a link, on the riverside at sunset, about Ambulances for the evening news.
Lots of to-ing & fro-ing as my friend had just returned from Palestine with her 83 year old ma. Is Mrs Carmichael then the oldest living ‘terrorist’ in the world? She has to undergo humiliating body searches. Some of her escapades are mentioned below with kind permission from her daughter.
Well today my mother and I travelled to meet a dear friend
Well today my mother and I travelled to meet a dear friend of mine in Ramallah with 2 young daughters. We were held at the terminal for approx 2 hours, of course for security. The funny thing being although it was meant to be for security, the Israeli Army just stood around laughing and joking whilst holding all the buses up.
Eventually they came on and made us all get off the bus and stand in the pouring rain. A journey which should take approx half an hour took us three hours. So soaking wet and dripping we walked along to my friends with some toys for her children.
After visiting my dear friend, my mother was saying oh it will be wonderful to get back early for one night. No such luck for her. After receiving a phone call from a young boy whom I knew in Scotland and returned to Ramallah to live. He picked us up in his car and we headed to his home.
Such, such wonderful hospitality again. Eat, Drink, Eat Drink. We danced and joked the night away with such wonderful laughter. Every time I come to Palestine I am filled with such warmth from the people here.
Even not doing an activist role here, you can still see the oppression and humiliation that is heaped upon and upon the Palestinian people here. Queuing at checkpoints, having to pull their jumpers up, taking their shoes off. All in front of people.
If the Israeli Army do not like what they have, they simply take it from them and rip it up and throw it in their faces. This is all true. My mother is horrified and has not really seen anything yet. It is enough for her though. She no longer can look the Israeli Army in their eyes as she cannot understand how they can do this to another human being. Nor can I.
My mother and I visited our dear friends in Aza and Aida Refugee Camp today and once again force fed and watered.
Towards the end of the day we went back to Aida Camp for dinner and my mother was sitting quietly in her chair when all of a sudden BOOM, BOOM, BOOM and shots being fired. She jumped out of her chair with a look of horror in her eyes. What is that she asked, and of course the reply being 'Oh just the usual, you know. The soldiers are here in the Camp again'. My mother rested her head in her hands for a few minutes and asked out loud 'Why does the world not do something about this, this is wrong'.
We all looked at each other in silence, shaking our heads listening to the gunfire outside the house and streets.
An hour or so later, we had to make our way back to Al Quds to get our luggage in time for leaving tomorrow early morning. Still angry at what the Occupation is doing here, I asked an Israeli Soldier, a young girl what the shooting was. She replied 'Oh, it is the Palestinians playing with fireworks'. I told her she was talking rubbish, that we knew it was the soldiers and the whole world also knew. She turned and with a straight face said to my mother and I 'WE ARE THE GOOD GUYS, THEY ARE BAD.
She then walked away laughing. Make up your own mind, who the bad guys are.
Aida Camp still has no gas cylinders, the Israeli Army are not allowing them through the checkpoints etc. They have actually been cooking on bits of wood chopped up. I kid you not.
I am now going back to my hostel to get ready for my early morning trip to the Airport. VIP treatment once again. My mother is carefully packing everything away and I keep telling her not to bother because they will take it out for her.
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