The People Who Speak in Poetry - by David

Today we visited a Palestinian place of study, Birzeit University, in the West Bank. Here we met Ghassan Andoni, a Christian Palestinian who is Professor of Physics at the university and co-founder of the International Solidarity Movement. We also met two students, and a member of the administration staff.

I felt at home in the university. The inside of the buildings felt similar to British Universities - long corridors kept cool by their marble floors, administration offices bustling with secretaries making phone calls, classrooms with the last lesson's diagram still on the blackboard.

Students here are committed. Many of the students live in Bethlehem - a 30 minute drive away. Yet the separation wall between the West Bank and Israel means students have to go the long way round, a journey that takes at least an hour. If students are stopped at one of the 93 checkpoints in the West Bank at the whim of a moody Israeli soldier, the journey can take 3-4 hours. One American professor at the university was forcibly held at a checkpoint for 3 hours whilst an Israeli soldier read the sports section of the newspaper that the professor was carrying.

Given the harassment and violation of dignity that Palestinians are subject to on a daily basis, it is an amazement that they are able to stand at all. Yet not only do they stand, but they stand tall, they stand on the shoulders of giants. According to UN statistics, Palestinians are the most educated people in the world.

Still, it is not easy for them to sustain this upright pose. Asked what hope she has for the future, the female student replied: "What future?"

Then, speaking in English, her second language, poetry flows from her lips. She speaks from her heart:

"I can't feel anything here. I can't give anything. I can't give feelings. We are dying everyday. We are dead. That's it."

Every paragraph she speaks is punctuated with "That's it". That's it, there's nothing more, we have searched so far for peace, how can we continue searching, where can we find hope for ourselves, let alone hope to share?

"It's like we are pushing a wall," she says. "Everyone is depressed. Everyone is down. How can we give?"

The administrator, though, speaks up to disagree. He has hope. It took him 11 years to complete his studies for an MA in sociology because of the difficulty of getting to university. Somehow, he still manages to believe that a better future is possible. Like the female student, he speaks in poetry:

"From my inside I find there is hope, because occupation can't stay for ever." He pauses a moment, allowing his words to permeate the room. "Occupation can't stay for ever. No way."

Where does he find this hope? It is found in the refusal of Palestinians to hate Jews. Israelis believe that Palestinians all completely hate Jewish people; the Israeli government has to preach this to sustain the state of Israel and the illegal occupation of Palestine. Despite having every reason to be bitter, the Palestinians:

"Are not against an kind of religion. We have our hands open for peace; for dignity."

Palestinians are dying inside with the pain of oppression, yet their hands are open for peace. What can I do to fill these open hands with the peace they so deserve?