When I left Palestine one and a half weeks ago I had mentally prepared myself for the dreaded lines and the harsh questions I knew awaited me at the Ben Gurion airport. I braced myself with patience as I approached the line for the first security check – it seemed to go on for miles and miles. My flight was early on a Friday morning, which means I arrived at the airport around midnight Thursday night. I took a deep breath and got in line, thinking about what I should do to pass the time. I looked around me and realized that my fellow travellers were not all what I had expected. In addition to the traditional tourists, the backpackers, the business people, the Jews, the Israelis and the large Arab Palestinian families, there somehow seemed to be more glitz and glam than usual. A woman in front of me was wearing a denim jacket with the face of a woman pictured on it in imitation diamonds, sparkling in the bright airport lights. The people relaxing or sleeping in the waiting areas seemed to be more dressed up than usual. Then two men came to the line and stood behind me. They were both on their IPhones, comparing pictures: “Oh, look at this one, look at this one.” “What time did the show start? I am just emailing Michael to let him know how amazing it was.” And so they kept going, about lights and costumes and crowds and music until I realized what was going on: Madonna had played a concert in Tel Aviv the same night and all of these people, glamming up at the airport were Madonna fans who were on their way back after her concert.

As they kept talking it was obvious that they did not know about the thorough security checks and long lines awaiting them. I considered turning around to explain the system to them but as we approached the first of many security guards I kept to myself and did my best to look innocent and non-threatening.

I am not going to complain about the treatment I got at the airport this time. Yes, the lines were long and the questions intrusive, but it is really all about the people you meet and how you approach them. I chitchatted with the girl who was going through my luggage, joked with the two girls at the security check and smiled at the guy in the passport control who let me through easily with a “God bless you”. It was a far cry from the last time I travelled through this airport. I couldn’t believe my luck.

As I waited in line after line I had the opportunity to observe how everyone else coped with the situation. The Madonna-fans were still high on the experience of the concert and floated through on that feeling. Many of the elderly tourists got a little overwhelmed by all the intrusive checks, while the backpackers just sat on the ground and waited patiently. I smiled as several German people complained of the lack of system and order; how could the guards let anyone in front of them in line and why did it all take so long? And then there were the Americans who pretended like they owned it all and had the right to do and say whatever they wanted. The Israelis and the Jews had their own lines and a minimum of checks while the Arabs and Palestinians were checked the most thoroughly.

As a foreigner you never really know how smoothly everything is going to be but if you look Arabic or have an Arabic-sounding name, you will have to brace yourself with even more patience than the American Madonna-fans and the German business people. Because of the Israeli apartheid system most of the Palestinians are not even allowed to move freely in their own country, let alone travel from the Israeli airport. This is what I tell myself when I go though the airport, and what I wanted to explain to my fellow travellers who kept complaining: this is nothing compared to what the Palestinians go through. We might have our luggage and bodies search, and have to wait in line, but the Palestinians have their houses demolished and their land stolen and they have to wait weeks, months or even years just to get a permit to go to Jerusalem. As a foreigner at the airport you never know what you get, but as a Palestinian, it’s business as usual, despite the glitz and glam of some of their more fortunate fellow travellers.

Julie Holm is a Writer for the Media and Information Department at the Palestinian Initiative for the Promotion of Global Dialogue and Democracy (MIFTAH). She can be contacted at mid@miftah.org.

Whenever people ask me “How do you like it here” or “What do you think of this place”, that is usually my answer to them. Culture shock. Coming from America, my ideas and views of the world are incredibly deluded and sheltered. It is strange to say sheltered, since America is known for its “freedoms” and mobility, but in retrospect, sheltered is the only way I can describe my experience with other cultures especially those of the Middle East. Hearing English-speaking, American based news and sources that only sparsely cover aspects of events in Israel and Palestine and having access to the internet, where credibility is fleeting, one can only speculate as to what life is actually like on the other side of the world. In order to seek the truth, I decided that I have to see the land with my own eyes and draw conclusions for myself, without the radical influences of either side.

Talk about a reality check.

I’m used to living on the side of the winners, the Americans, the powerhouse, the rich and feared who support the Israeli occupation. I’m used to the media depicting our opposition—i.e. anybody who we deem as “terrorists”—as inhumane, bigoted, and intolerant. I’m used to living an easy, predictable life, while still complaining about mundane every day “first world problems”. However, what I’m not used to is living on the other side. I have gotten a chance to do so, and experiencing truth is much different than our own conjectures of the situation. Getting an actual first-hand understanding is quite possibly the most revealing thing I could undertake.

The truth hurts.

It is incredibly difficult to explain to people that haven’t experienced it, what a checkpoint really is. To my American counterparts, the best way to explain is to find some way for them to relate. Imagine being black—or a minority—in the southern United States. Then imagine getting pulled over by the police, and their only purpose is to make your life difficult. Then imagine having to go through this every day just to get to work, or just to go see friends and family. That is the reality of the situation here. These checkpoints make a normally 10-minute commute turn into an hour and a half journey. Coupled with the fact that these Israeli soldiers are thoroughly searching cars, interrogating people, and carrying large assault rifles, it all adds up for an incredibly tense and stressful situation. Even as an American, with no Arab blood, just the fact that I was in a Palestinian neighborhood raised eyebrows and warranted me harsh stares from the military guards at the Qalandiya checkpoint. I was pounded by relentless questions asking why I would leave the “haven” of Jerusalem to be around Palestinians. They could not accept the simple answer that I wanted to eat at a restaurant in the area. I could not tell if the soldiers honestly could not fathom my reasoning, or if they were just trying to make life a little bit more confusing and stressful. Granted, because I am American, I received much nicer treatment than my Arab counterparts around me. However, a harassing inconvenience of an interrogation was hardly worth the delectable kanafeh I had on the other side. Having to deal with this persecution—to a larger extent—every day seems insurmountable. The whole operation has a shockingly prison-like feel.

Prisoners in their own homes.

Ironically, the United States supports this occupation, and pours billions of dollars into this war effort. I know that if any American citizen were subject to the sort of treatment that Palestinians deal with on a daily basis, then there would be instantaneous international attention, and action would be taken immediately. My question is, what’s the difference? Or is it a question of: do people really understand the truth of what is going on? Are they only going by the media? The checkpoints are only a fraction of the injustices and hardships the Palestinians face daily, and third parties simply turn a blind eye to the reality. This may seem obvious, but in order to remove the blinders and see the actuality of it all, one must see it with their own eyes. It’s hard to understand a condition without truly experiencing it.

Kevin William is a Writer for the Media and Information Department at the Palestinian Initiative for the Promotion of Global Dialogue and Democracy (MIFTAH). He can be contacted at mid@miftah.org.

That is, until now. Israel has gone so far over the edge, even the dullest of minds can see how discriminatory and frankly, insane, Israel's politics really are.

Boycotting Israel, politically, economically, culturally and intellectually has been a means of resistance for years, albeit with ebbs and tides in terms of its effectiveness. Palestinians boycotted Israeli products during the first Intifada in the last 1980s and the early 90s and international groups have been intellectually and culturally boycotting Israel for years, something which took on particular force after the creation of the Boycott and Divestment and Sanctions movement, which went global in 2005. Naturally, Israel was far from happy about those who dared to challenge Israel's image of democracy and freedom. Palestinian and international activists have been imprisoned or barred from entering the country after being pegged as somehow posing a "security threat" to the state of Israel.

However, Israel's hostility towards the boycott took on an even sharper vengeance after the Palestinian government launched a campaign at the beginning of the year to boycott illegal Jewish settlements and their products. As it turns out, the campaign has proven effective, not only here in Palestine but abroad. In May, two Italian supermarket chains announced they would no longer sell products produced in West Bank settlements. The European Union has made it clear that settlement products are not eligible for preferential treatment in accordance with tax-exempt trade agreements. And Palestinians have stopped buying or even seeing settlement products on their shelves, thanks to the customs authority, which blocks any wayward shipments of settlement goods into Palestinian areas.

Israel has reacted badly, its officials calling the boycott "economic terrorism" and a breach of trade agreements. Earlier this month, 25 Knesset members introduced a bill in the parliament calling for the criminalization of the boycott. Basically, the bill says that if Israeli citizens (in this case, Palestinian-Israelis who have voiced their support for the settlement boycott and Israeli leftist professors who support an academic boycott) are found to be involved in any sort of boycott of Israel, they would be made to pay a fine so as to compensate those companies hurt by the boycott. For non-Israeli citizens (that is, all those people of conscience who come to support the Palestinians), if found guilty of "boycotting" they could be banned entry into the country for 10 years.

On that note, let's not forget the "cultural terrorism" Israel accuses the boycott movement of perpetrating by urging musicians to cancel their concerts in Israel. Earlier this week, the American rock group The Pixies canceled their June 9 concert following the Israeli attack on the Freedom flotilla, which resulted in the deaths of nine Turks. Last month, Elvis Costello also cancelled his concert in Israel, saying his decision was "a matter of instinct and conscience".

The instances of boycotts against Israel have begun to grow more frequent, thanks to Israel's equally growing acts of violence against Palestinians and others. Following the flotilla atrocity, Israeli members of the gay community were curtly uninvited to attend the gay pride celebrations in Madrid, with the organizers saying they feared the group would be met by angry pro-Palestinian groups if they came.

Swedish dock workers launched a weeklong blockade of Israeli goods and ships between June 15–June 24, citing the reason for the blockade as "the unprecedented criminal attack on the peaceful ship convoy." And the largest British trade union, Unite, voted on June 4 for a complete boycott of Israel and its services, "similar to the boycott of South African goods during the era of apartheid."

Boycotting has always been a peaceful and legitimate way of protesting, be it apartheid South Africa or racist America. However, Israel, the country which is to blame for so much discrimination and racism, and hence the boycott of it, has now tried to turn the tables on the world and portray itself as the victim. In Israel, a number of supermarket chains have begun to start a boycott of their own of Turkish products. Turkish, that's right, the country of which the nine dead peace activists are citizens (save for the Turkish-American teen killed on the Mavi Marmara).

Israel's audacity is outrageous, no doubt. One of the chains that announced its boycott of Turkish pastas and flour is the infamous Rami Levy, the settlement supermarket chain in the West Bank, which itself is a major target of the Palestinian boycott campaign. "For reasons of ideology and conscience, it would be unacceptable for us to do nothing when the Turkish people behave this way," said Levy himself, the owner of the chain. "This is the minimum that we can do."

Just to get things straight –Rami Levy supermarkets are all built on land in the West Bank, Palestinian land, which international law deems as occupied. Settlements themselves are illegal, which means the supermarkets are equally as illegitimate. Still, Rami Levy is presumptuous enough to say his chain will boycott Turkish products as a matter of "ideology and conscience?" The Turkish people's "behavior" in question was boarding a ship full of humanitarian aid to a besieged and oppressed people, armed with nothing but the chairs onboard. In contrast, Israeli naval commandos stormed the ship, beat and opened fire on the activists, killing nine and injuring 40.

It seems unimaginable that anyone could possibly follow this argument and still consider themselves a credible critic. Now that boycotting is being proposed in the Knesset as a criminal offense, will Israeli supermarket chains such as Rami Levy and Mega also be punished for their "behavior?" Or are such laws retained exclusively for those who feel compassion with the Palestinians and who have a nagging conscience that compels them to defend justice regardless of the stakes? Unfortunately, we all know the answer to this one.

There is no point falling into the pit of countering the claims being made about the death of Mohammed Al Durra, the 12-year old boy from Gaza whose videotaped killing was seen around the world. The boy, crouching in fear behind is equally afraid father as bullets whizzed around them, was killed admittedly by the Israeli army. Later, the army recanted after investigating the tape, saying Durra was killed by Palestinian fire instead. Well now, Israel is changing its story altogether, saying he was not killed at all. In fact, he was probably not even wounded and the French channel that broadcast the footage and brought some pretty bad rap to Israel, had most likely filmed a charade.

The reason why I will not waste my time countering this claim is that even with the great lengths the Israeli government went to to prove that the boy was never killed, it could not provide any irrefutable proof that Mohammed Al Durra – who would be 25 now – is still alive. No pictures, no testimonies, no hospital or morgue officials giving statements to refute his death, have been provided. Only sketchy information about ‘poor quality footage’ and the fact that it seems as though the boy moved his arm after he had slumped over his father following the explosion.

My point is this: indeed, Mohammed Durra’s death was at least one of the catalysts that fueled the second Intifada, and thus, was an important event in the history of the Palestinians. However, more importantly – most importantly to me –is the fact that this is about a boy who died in sheer terror, with his distraught father futilely trying to shelter him from the barrage of bullets coming their way.

Mohammed Al Durra was a boy, with a life, a family and friends. He died a horrible death and now he is being made to die a second one. I did not know Mohammed or his family, but I can only imagine how awful it must be for them to read these claims now and feel the pain of losing their child all over again. If nothing else, this is disrespect for human life of the worst kind.

Some may postulate that the rehashing of the Durra case is a personal jab at the French cameraman who shot the footage, Charles Enderlin. Perhaps. But as a Palestinian who has seen the pain endured by numerous families who receive the horrible news that their sons or daughters have been killed by the Israeli army, my concern is for his family and for his memory. He should be left to rest in peace. If Israel has axes to grind with French journalists or with the international community for holding it accountable for its actions, then so be it. Israel is not lacking in the public relations department.

That being said, there is just one decent thing left to do. Leave Mohammed Al Durra and his memory alone.

Joharah Baker is a Writer for the Media and Information Department at the Palestinian Initiative for the Promotion of Global Dialogue and Democracy (MIFTAH). She can be contacted at mid@miftah.org.

This week Palestinians will commemorate Al Nakba, the catastrophe that befell the Palestinian people when Israel was founded. Every year, Palestinians hang placards pointing to the right of return, they carry keys symbolizing the homes they were forced to leave and could not return to and remember the Palestine that was lost to them 65 years ago.

This year will be no different. Every May 15, Palestinian recall their catastrophe and demand justice. They demand that they are granted the right of return for those who were made refugees virtually overnight and were then relegate to a life they did not choose. But more than anything, they demand recognition of the tragedy that befell them rather than a denial that it ever happened, or worse, that it was of their own making.

It has been 65 years since Israel was established in 1948, which means those who were cast into exile are either very old or have long passed. Those who experienced the Nakba are now few and far between, clinging to those few precious memories of a small garden in front of their house in Jaffa or of the salty smell of the sea in their neighborhood in Haifa. The rest of us are either descendants of these refugees or ordinary Palestinians who feel their cause is our cause because we are one people.

But the Palestinians have made one thing clear. The refugee issue will not die with the last refugee. It is felt nationwide, the loss, the injustice and the fact that those who were forced from their homes have mostly passed, longing for their beloved homes.

We cannot turn back time. What was lost has been altered, destroyed, changed or taken over by Israel’s newcomers. What we can do is hold on to the right to be recognized, for the injustice to be rectified in word and deed and for Palestine to never be lost in our minds or hearts.

Joharah Baker is a Writer for the Media and Information Department at the Palestinian Initiative for the Promotion of Global Dialogue and Democracy (MIFTAH). She can be contacted at mid@miftah.org.

Almost every Palestinian I know has fallen in love with Mohammed Assaf. Charismatic, young, confident and with a set of pipes that can blow your socks off, Assaf has shot to stardom and has become one of Palestine’s most beloved treasures. The 22-year old Gazan has made it to Arab Idol’s coveted Top Ten and for good reason. He is an outstanding singer. Even I, someone who is not much of an Arab Idol fan, find myself waiting each week just to hear Assaf belt out classical Arabic songs, trendy modern ones or nationalist Palestinian songs followed by heaps of praise and applause.

The charming young man has captured the hearts of his people, not only because he is such a wonderful singer but because he cajoled an Egyptian border officer to let him out of the Rafah Crossing so he could make it to the try-outs in Cairo; because he was late anyway and jumped the fence over into the building where they were being held; because he was still not registered and thus would have missed his chance if it weren’t for another Palestinian contestant who selflessly offered his number to Assaf after recognizing him; it is because he smiles so broadly when he sings, flirting playfully with the judges; because he wore the black-and-white Palestinian kuffiyeh when he sang about Palestine and because he said Samer Issawi, the Palestinian hunger striker who went without food for eight months was an “inspiration”. Then of course, we love to listen to Mohammed Assaf because he sounds so darn good.

There is another dimension that we love about Assaf because it embodies what we all believe to be uniquely Palestinian. Apart from the fact that he lives in the besieged Gaza Strip, he is a student of media, he is a singer and he has dreams for himself completely separate from the collective dream of the liberation of Palestine.

I think that is also why we like him so much. We see the hope for our sons and daughters mirrored in him. He is not one-dimensional – he makes sure his audience knows that with the range of songs he chooses to sing. From his Palestinian national song “Oh Flying Bird”, to Abdel Halim Hafez, one of Arab music’s giants, to a song by Ragheb Alama, one of the judges, Assaf has proven that he can run with the best. Alama even gave him copyrights to his song after hearing his amazing rendition.

In short, the Palestinians are proud to have a contestant as strong as Mohammed Assaf on the show. Watching him brings out a sense of national pride – President Mahmoud Abbas has asked the people to vote for him – and it reminds us that we can excel despite adversity.

I have never partaken in the mania of text voting for hopefuls on Arab Idol or any other show for that matter. Strangely however, I find myself leaning towards breaking that streak and punching in the number “3” for Mohammed Assaf. He may not be the next Arab Idol, but to Palestinians, he has already won.

Joharah Baker is a Writer for the Media and Information Department at the Palestinian Initiative for the Promotion of Global Dialogue and Democracy (MIFTAH). She can be contacted at mid@miftah.org.

Oppression can do strange things to people. When it is oppression in the form of a decades-long military occupation, it means the occupied people run the risk of becoming one-dimensional in the sense that the occupation is what defines them and shapes their past, present and future.

For the Palestinians, this is true to a large extent. Because the Israeli occupation consumes us, preoccupies our everyday lives and effects the smallest aspects of it, we find ourselves thinking mostly about this occupation and ways to resist it, do away with it, or at least work around it.

The thing is, the Palestinians are hardly one-dimensional. The fact that the occupation has taken over so much of our lives does not mean we do not have the potential to embrace other less discouraging aspects of life itself. In the past week, Ramallah – the hub of Palestinian cultural life – has seen Palestinian Fashion Week, the Contemporary Dance Festival and a Spring Festival for children. All of the above activities have been distinctly Palestinian but they were not solely catered to the traditional theme of occupation and oppression, which the Palestinians have grown so accustomed to and believe is the only way the world views them.

At the Nuwwar Nissan Festival [The Blossoms of Spring] , children danced debka [Palestinian traditional dance] wearing Palestinian kuffiyehs around their necks. Some even had little Palestinian flags painted on their cheeks. But mostly, there were happy children with butterflies or flowers for faces, carrying balloons, eating sweets and watching puppet shows.

At the fashion show, young fresh-faced Palestinian women walked a mini runway wearing stylish spring clothes, some of which had more than a hint of Palestinian heritage. There were dresses with Palestinian embroidery in traditional black and red, jackets with distinct Palestinian markings. But overall, this was a fashion show, a chance for young entrepreneurs and fashion designers to showcase their skills, for young women into fashion to dress up and march down the catwalk and for Palestinians interested in this art form to take part in something a bit different than usual.

At the final performance of the Contemporary Dance Festival, physically disabled dancers performed incredible routines that would be a challenge for any able-bodied person. The message was twofold. Not only was it a reconfirmation that the handicapped can be part of anything they set their minds to in society and even excel where most others would fail, it was also a message forcing viewers to think outside the box. Contemporary dance incorporates unique and often bizarre concepts foreign to conservative societies but ones that allow the imagination and mind to travel to places it has never been.

This is what Palestinians are being exposed to slowly but surely. Unfortunately, there are many in this society who do not want change to come, will fight it tooth and nail and brand it as anti-Arab or anti-cultural, using religion and tradition as their crutch. But while the good and the bad comes with change, we must learn to embrace the process and the fact that it broadens our mental horizons even if we do not necessarily have a palette for fashion shows or contemporary dance or modern art. Palestine and the Palestinians are dynamic, vibrant and alive. It is not just the Israeli occupation that defines us even though it is the most imposing obstacle in our way. Let’s put it like this: once the Israeli occupation ends – and it will end without a doubt – the Palestinians need to fall back on a cultural canvas that embraces not only their collective history and culture but one which is also a space to explore infinite horizons.

Joharah Baker is a Writer for the Media and Information Department at the Palestinian Initiative for the Promotion of Global Dialogue and Democracy (MIFTAH). She can be contacted at mid@miftah.org.