From my Broken Heart to yours: Ana Gaza, Inti Gaza Part 1

The first morning, I watched clutching my robe, my heart struggling to beat, hot tears stinging the backs of my eyes. I watched, paralyzed by the image of bombs dropping, of fathers running, carrying bloody children in their arms. I watched and felt so powerless.

It still amazes me, even though I know it's nothing new, that the media in the US can be so one-sided. It's appalling to me that they don't use their journalistic and investigative skills to look at the root cause. It is right for Israel to only "defend" itself? Why is it not okay for Palestinians to defend themselves? And why hasn't the Israel gov't said the truth about how many folks Hamas hasn't hurt with their retaliation? What is wrong with showing the truth? The truth is, is that we are all in the wrong. But why is Palestine only to blame? How is it that Israel can exist, can do these crimes and not be tried for them?

I wonder and think back to riding the 18 bus from Ramallah to Jerusalem. Several times, I road back and forth between the West bank to Jerusalem. Being accosted by young soldiers with M-16's who were hot and bored and had itchy trigger fingers.

I road in silence, trembling with the desire to say something of substance when they'd harass young mothers, other foreigners, teenagers who were equally bored or scared or frustrated with concrete walls and in guns in their faces. I remember, closing my eyes as hot tears burn the backs of eye lids, the french man who may have been imprisoned, if not for the boredom of the soldiers who finally found it unappealing to bother him on the bus. I remember back to watching, less than 6 inches from my face, an M-16, with trembling tiny fingers pointing in my direction as I tried to pass from one side of the country to the other.

Lets take a look at history and simplify it if we can. Lets say that you lived in a house a very very long time ago and it's been sold/given away and other generations have lived there. Other families doing just fine. And they know you're going through a hard time and are saying, "Okay, you're having a hard time, you can come and stay with us for a little while if you like," and their response is, "We're not going to stay for a little while, we're going to stay and you can go live in the dog house in the backyard and you can only go ten feet out on each side of the dog house and nothing more. And if you move, we'll shoot you." That's the situation in a nutshell. Of course there were Jews in the country already, but no one was trying to kick other folks out of their houses or off their lands.

I think back to my cousins and aunts and uncles not being able to leave the West Bank and see all the things I got to see in person. And being searched, having their bags looked in, having their trunks turned upside down, having their children scared.

I wanted to go to Gaza, but the farther south you go, the worse the soldiers are, the more security there is. No one rides the bus to the last stop I've heard. No one hardly dares unless they're with the news or an organization in their own car and even then, you need permission way in advance.

Human nature shows that when put between a rock and a hard place, you're going to want to fight back. You're going to push back against that rock because you're not going to sit there and get crushed. If someone, for example, from NY was only allowed to go from 14th street to 42nd street and only 125th when the Mayor felt like it and no where else and searched all the time, have your lights and water cut off periodically, be treated like an animal, you'd want to lash out too.

Palestinians and other Arabs alike didn't just start bombing and fighting out of no where. This didn't just HAPPEN because of boredom or evilness or Islam. This didn't just happen for no reason. Palestinians are fighting the way the Jews fought to stay alive during the holocaust. The Israels are treating Palestinians the same way they were treated. Just as a child abused might grow up and abuse their children.

So Israel can defend itself and Palestine can't? I don't condone either side. There shouldn't be any fighting. But there is. I just want folks to see why. Its not one-sided. Its not the mighty innocent Israel taking out those bad Palestinians. It's a genocide and a Palestinian Holocaust. Tell it like it is. For real and stop worrying about being PC. And why should Americans care? Because its our tax dollars that are paying for the weapons that Israel is using.

I know that some don't agree. That when they think Palestinian, they think terrorist, dirty, crazy Muslims, screaming women, evil men, exotic land. But Palestine, to me, is home. Is the beauty of the curves my cousins lashes make above her eyes. Is the fascination my uncle, my fathers younger brother, had in showing me every religious site for every religion in Bethlehem. Is the rise and fall of the voice of young men during morning prayers. Is the love I felt from every Palestinian I encountered. Palestine is home. It is love. It is the pump of blood and winding vitality streaming through me. And it hurts deeply to know that so many haven't gotten a chance and will never get a chance to see what I saw when I went to visit my family.

Thurs Oct 23rd in Jerusalem and then some

Today I went to the Orthodox Russian Church of Mary Magdalene, to the birth place of the Virgin Mary and to her Tomb. I wanted to do more walking to other sites and churches, but today I was just too tired.
This morning I felt so tired but like I could handle it. And on the bus ride into Jerusalem, I started feeling a bit nauseated, but felt better when I got off the bus and starting walking and getting some fresh air. But I just dragged and dragged once I had to climb up hill and then down to get to the Churches. Definitely wasn't even a quarter of what I did Tues but I still felt it.
I guess I didn't get a good enough rest last night. I would have just left and went back to my Aunts casa, but I'm seeing Nihaya's mom today so I need to stay in the area.

So I'm in a cafe getting a snack so I don't fall over. Maybe I didn't eat enough this morning for all this walking. Then again I felt full. I think my body has had it's fill of white flour khubbuz. Maybe it's time for some wheat or whole grain if I can get it, but I doubt it. Maybe just no khubbuz at all. LAH KHUBBUZ!!!!

I'll use my hands instead.

That's what'll make you fat. All that damn bread. Ha! I say that as I eat a bit more with my hummus and tabouli! I'm glad I've been walking up and down so many hills and mounts.

5 more days until I'm back in NYC. I almost can't believe a month passed and I've seen all this stuff and there's still so much more to see. I wonder what else I can see before I go? Not sure where else I can go? I've got 70 Shekels left. That's like $20 or so. I can go to the party tonight for 40 Sheks. Fri not so much goes on because its sabbath. Sat I may go to my cousins. And sun and mon? I don't know. Going some where will cost more money. Maybe there's a show I can go to or just hang with my cousins or do more writing. I don't want to have to take money out of the bank since when I get back the first of the month is days away.

Gotta get back to reality now. Real life. Yay!

Maybe I'll just hang out with my cousins. I'm sure my Uncle also wants me to come back to Beit Rima for a day or 2 and that doesn't cost anything....except a bit of sanity...


I also wonder what I'll be thinking once I go back to the US. I wonder if the peace and connection to whatever higher power will last. It's not as if connections with God are severed across the world. I just live in a place where slowing down isn't always an option and in the bustle of living, you forget your peace. Get lost in your caffeine and don't know how to get back to connect.

I hope I can still stay connected. I hope to not get so lost in the shuffle that I lose the peace I've acquired over this month.

What's interesting though s that I haven't really been working on my self reflecting book. I've been writing in my other story. Doing these blogs. Writing emails to folks. But when writing about my life in the book I was working on, I sort of haven't felt compelled to write anything about it. Not sure why. Maybe I've done enough self reflecting in my blogs and in myself to feel sated on the need to do it. Who knows. All the writing I've done though is enough to add to the book for later anyway and to point it into the direction and the theme of what the book is about.

I also realized that I still didn't get too much more info on my dad. Maybe thats also something I can do this weekend. Grill my aunt and uncle on information on my dad. That'll inspire me to write. As hard as it will be to do, I'll do it.
I think it'll make the bond and connection to the peace I've gotten a bit of be stronger while I'm back in NY.

Palestine smells like home Part 2

I feel safe here. I'm not sure why this overwhelming sense of peace and calm is in me now, but it is. In NYC, I've been having trouble sleeping, having trouble feeling safe. I just don't feel the safety I use to feel for some reason. It's not all the time, but some times at night I've gotten super paranoid. Why? I don't know. Maybe it's living alone that set in, even though I like living alone. Or maybe being single, even though it doesn't bother me too much some of the time. Maybe letting go of things of the past and moving on has left me raw and opened and vulnerable feeling and so for the moment, I don't feel safe all the time.

But it feels different now. I feel better. Fell safer. Feel at ease. Feel at home. In Palestine.

I've finally been able to sleep. I don't feel paranoid. I don't feel like someone's going to come and get me in my sleep, or when I relax or am alone. I feel safe. Maybe being surrounded by family and by people who have been showing me so much love (albeit overwhelming), just so so much love.
Maybe. Or maybe just knowing that other people are in the house with me. But I've been in the house with others in NY and still not felt this ease. Still not felt this peace. I've never really had this problem on such a consistent level though. I've known situations were unsafe, but I haven't really felt heavy duty fear since I was a child. I always knew somehow that I'd be ok. And before I came here, I felt that safety gone.
But now....
My heart doesn't race at night. I don't check if the door is locked and secure a bunch of times. I don't jump at every noise. I feel safe.
Maybe because I feel like I'm at home. Maybe I've finally come home.
I like the idea of Palestine being home

Sat Oct 11th: From Beit Rima to Jericho

As we drove today along the road from Beit Rima to Jericho, these are some of the things that happened and that I saw. Ill probably add some pictures to this later since the bloggy thing is acting up. Or maybe its the slow wireless???

I started out at my Aunts house in Ramallah and made my way over to my Uncle Nasser's house
in Beit Rima which is about 20mins away. His kids, wife and my grandfather live there in a
beautiful little house with a view of Tel Aviv, the dead sea and the entire mountainous
landscape. A couple days after that, I visited the enchanting and holy Bethlehem and went
to the Basilica where Jesus was born. Everything in there was made of gold. The next day
we made our way to Jericho. We wanted to visit the Dead Sea, but they close off the beach
for West Bank Palestinians that day so my uncle (who was driving) couldn't get in.
So off to Jericho we went.

When the soldiers "advise" you to do something, that is not them giving you an option. "Advise" for them is another way of saying, "you better or else." Is that what Jesus would do?
They want any excuse to pull a trigger, stomp a stomach, to start trouble beause they are hot. Bored. Young. Ill-advised. Ready to start trouble because they are on top and the rest of us are not.

Sounds familiar. Sounds unfair. Sounds like the way things have been for a very long time.


School boys hitch rides on the sides of check points and highway lines, hoping taxi vans will take them home or at least close, for little or no shekels.

The women walk along. Adoring eyes the shapes of lemons. Almonds. Green Olives. Sweets they offer for lunch and dinner. Beauty fading around the edge of their face. Their children in tow. The memory of a figure. Of youth. Of the freedom of hair in the winds walks behind them, insulated in their shadows and now living in their daughters just to be lost again on their wedding nights.

Sweat gets caught on colorful hijabs that rest on the shoulders of black dresses that touch their ankles and the tops of their high heeled sandels. Night and day, "Yamma. Yamma. Yamma."
A never ending chant sung by their children. I wonder if any of them were forced to marry. I wonder if the wnted to wait to have their kids. I wonder if their lives would have been different if given a choice.

Of course many fo them go to school, have work, have careers. But their first obligation after God is their family. To be a wife and a mother. There's nothing wrong with that of coutrse. Nothing wrong with taking pride and loving being a wife and a mother. It's a beautiful thing. It's a wonderous thing. Without women, there would be no world. We bring life into this place.

I just wonder how many times a day they hear Shukran (thank you). I bet not once. Every mother I've met hears Shukran from me about 2 dozen times or more every time I see them for everything they do. I wonder if it'll make a difference. Maybe it has. Maybe I have.

Jericho was very beautiful to visit. We went to a Saint George Monastery first. It's in Jericho, but before the Old City, off to a little corner of land near the highway. It's entrance is wide and welcoming, shaded by tropical looking trees, vines full of flowers and the smell of those flowers in the air. Holy men and cab drivers sat on either side, drinking coffee and talking about God knows what very early in the morning.

When we got there, it was almost 9:30am. We entered the next entrance which is also outside as the sun shown above us. A a gray and blue parrot sat in a white cage to my left, speaking in a language I didn't understand. I think it was Greek since Saint George's is a Greek Catholic Church. A Greek flag hung above the entrance. Interpretive pictures of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and a plethora of biblical characters hung along the stone walls. It smelled of those incense and candles only found in catholic churches. Like wood and earth and oil. To me it smelled like the Botanica's in NY. After all, they look up to the same Saints, right?

Off to the far left was the small entrance for the church. To the right was where you could buy all kinds of crosses and pictures of biblical folks. A woman with a thick accent spoke to us.

"Are you looking for the Church?" Her voice was soft, but heavy. Very Greek. I only know this because when I was in college there was a woman who was about 65 and going back to school who was from Greece and her voice sounded just like this.

"Yes." Was all I could think to say because I wasn't necessarily looking for anything. I was just looking at everything and anything. My uncle thought I might want to see the place and brought me.

"It's in there." She turned as she spoke, clicking her tongue at the parrot in its cage.

My aunt nodded and I went in first. It was very dark in comparison to the bright sunlight in the courtyard. Pictures hung everywhere (even on the ceiling) of the artists' versions of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, Apostles and more. Heavy clothes sat on the sides of the walls and the ceilings, made of what looked like velvet and silks and gold. I took pictures of EVERYTHING.

We walked about looking at the artistic strokes in each painting. All the soft colors, all the expressions on faces immortalized for all time. Opened to interpretation by all. These artists, I assume, painted these holy characters in their own images. In any event, they were beautiful.

Once we were done looking at everything there was to see in the small space of the church, we went back out into the courtyard. My aunt laughed at the parrots squawking talks. I don't think she could understand it either. We went over to the books, paintings and crucifixes hanging along the walls. They were all on sale. 5 shekels here, 7 there. Once again my uncle wouldn't let me pay for anything. He says I'm a guest and his niece and he is obligated to take care of anything I may want or need. I hope to one day return the favor for him. I guess he also figures he's been out of my life for the last 8 years and wants to make up for lost time. Or maybe I'm assuming.

Once we were done at the Monastery, we made our way over to the Old City in Jericho.
This is where larger than average people lived, warriors that defended their lands fiercely and befell tragedy by the hands of God for dissing one of his messengers who wanted to make peace and work with them. The land where the Old City is, they say, is 10,000 years old. And that's when they were shaken with an earth quake and more. Now the ruins show old signs of what houses use to be there and old pottery and bowls sitting about. This Old City is also where Jesus passed to get to the Mountain where the devil tempted him during his 40 fast. There you can ride a cable car above the land. We walked below because it was 3 shekels and cooler to see and touch everything in person. We didn't get up to the mountain though because it was too far and high. On the site where Jesus fasted is now a Church, just sitting on the side of the mountain. Almost looks superimposed or something.

Once we finished walking along the ruins in the hot morning sun, we went over to Hisham's Palace, where the king stayed during vacations to get the sun and heat of Jericho. The ruins are a bit more complete at the Palace but still so far gone. It's only been about a 1,000 year maybe a bit more said my uncle.

The air spoke in ancient tongue. A click and whisper on the wind, howling along the skin. A caress from a lovers lips. King Hisham's Palace lay in ruins. A distant memory of what is use to be. I find the ruins to be even more enchanting that the building itself use to be. I ran my hands along the ancient stones as I took pictures of the old place. It was built in the time of Prophet Mohammad and was the kings get away retreat.

We walked along the entire grounds, the children mesmerized by the sites of the large old stones and the sand they stood upon. I wonder if Mohammad and Tasmeen who are 2 and 4 will remember this later on. I hope so.

Similar to Jericho and Bethlehem, the oldness and history of the place tickles along your skin and jumps your heart a little. It's exciting. It's new. It's old. It's history that you can touch and taste and smell from hundreds of years ago. If you close your eyes after gazing upon all these things, you can almost hear the crackle of the fire, smell the sweet sweat of the guards, hear the hushed giggles of servant girls, catch the distant hum of a song on the lips and in the throat of a singer. You can almost catch yourself back in time, a treasured guest at the Kings Palace.


Once we left there, we headed of to the Oldest Tree in Jericho, where Jesus rested as he walked. The story is in the book of Luke. I took pictures, tried to avoid the German tourists who seemed to want to push folks out of the way and gazed up at the sun through the leaves of this beautiful tree.

We tried to leave right away, but the battery for our car died. That's not a fun situation with a 2,4,5, and 12 year old in the car. My uncle ran around and finally found some jumper cables and got the car started an hour later. We drove about, looking for falafel and then later on that afternoon I got dropped back here at my Aunt Haifa's house in time for the wedding Sunday.

Thursday Oct 9th: Near to family- small stream of thought

It's important to be near family. It's a bond that makes us strong. Knowing that you have someone to rely on when you need it and vice versa.
To know you matter to some one and that someone matters to you. Because family matters.
Who ever you consider your family. It just is.

Palestine smells like home and Rimawi's everywhere: Part one

It's been some what of a mystery as to why we all fell out of touch, as to why the family that was near to me through my father was no longer near to me once he was gone. Of course things like that are never done on purpose, but nevertheless, there was a piece missing inside of me that was connected to their part of my family.

I haven't really had a chance to write since I've been here so I'm using the quiet time I have now that folks are at work and school to write.

I love the way Palestine smells. It's so homey. I love the smell of Palestine. The sites and sounds. The smiles and the laughter of children. It makes me feel warm. Makes me feel safe. Makes me feel like I've come home.

It's like sweet and bitter and hot and salty. It smells the way I would imagine comfort smelling. It feels like life would be good here for me. Aside from war or oppression, life would be good. Where else isn't like that? The entire world is in turmoil. The entire world is falling apart. Where else can I go?

It's peaceful for me here, like a warm bath or the waves of the ocean playing along your skin hours and hours after you've left the waters. Just comforting.

And here I thought that there were alot of Rimawi's in NYC, but alas there are 10,000 Rimawi's here in Ramallah, mostly based in Beit Rima and then a few more thousand around Palestine.

My grandfather is having a complex built for most of his grandchildren and said that it's here if I want it and I just have to move here. That me, my brothers and sister each have an apartment ontop of one another and it's all paid for. Below the apartments will be stores. Maybe this is where I can put together a business. My uncle said the easiest way to become a citizen is to marry someone here or open a business. I think it's more likely for me to open a business than it is for me to marry someone here. I already have my heart set on someone else.

I'll continue writing later. I want to help my aunt cook, even though they don't want me doing much. At least I'll sit and talk with her and have some arabic coffee. Yum!
And I wanted to add more more pictures of Ramallah in here today, but the bloggy thing isn't working right. Maybe tomorrow or so it'll work fine.

ALSO, leave comments

Leave comments. Let me know what you think about what I'm saying about the country, about the trip, about everything. I'll be posting pictures on here AND on my website www.emanrimawi.com so stay tuned! :)

Okie :)

Less than a week until I leave

I've been so excited. I am excited. I'm ready to be there. Ready to do all the things I want to do, all the things I plan on doing, all the new things that may happen that I haven't planned. I'm excited.

But also very nervous. Very nervous about so many things.

Its like this hole that been in my heart about who I am and where I come from. In my soul and slowly, it feels like coming home. Palestine feels like home to me. It always has, it's just been out of reach. And now I get to reach it. It's always scary to get what you want. But I'm going head first into my fear and nervousness and going to experience everything that it has to offer.
Another reason I've been nervous is because of the news. Some of the news has been ok. Some of the news hasn't been very good and it makes me wonder how much traveling from town to town I'll be able to do. I check the news, all news sources to get all sides to see whats going on.

I know I'll be ok. I have this strong feeling, deep inside me. Just like the feeling I felt that I knew that NOW was the time for me to go. Just like that feeling, I know I'll be ok. But it still makes me nervous. I don't know what the soldiers will say. I don't know if someone will have had their last straw and board a bus I'm on and take his/her and everyone else life. I don't know. I guess no one knows.
I'm going with very positive energy and a very positive attitude.

But I can, of course only control myself. We'll see what happens. Next week on Thursday, I'll be flying. Thats another nerve-wracking thing. I hate flying. And it's going to be cloudy and possibly rainy. UGH!
It's time for bed. It's time for reading my arabic.

Min fadlek read my blogs as they come along through October. I want to share my experience with everyone. I've noticed I've been getting more traffic on both blogs. I'm really glad. And excited.

Until later.

Here are some articles I found. Good news, Bad news, Scary news. All going on right now.

Jerusalem crash 'not deliberate'

The family claim the 19-year-old driver was murdered by Israelis

Relatives of a Palestinian who was shot dead after his car ploughed into a group of Israelis at a bus stop have denied it was a deliberate attack.

Nineteen people, mostly soldiers, were treated for light or moderate wounds in the incident in central Jerusalem.

Off duty soldiers shot the 19-year-old driver, in what Israeli police have said was an attack.

"My son was murdered, they killed him. He did not carry out a terrorist attack" said the driver's father.

"This was a car accident. The car stopped after hitting a wall. Why did they kill him?" Mahmoud Mughrabi said at his home in Israeli-occupied East Jerusalem.

Israeli police have said they were "100% sure" Qassem Mughrabi intended to carry out a deliberate attack, with one spokesmen saying a failed romance may have been the trigger.

Israeli police spokesman Shmuel Ben-Ruby said investigators had found Mr Mughrabi, who had no prior police record, "wanted to marry his cousin but when she refused he apparently decided to carry out the attack".

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7631693.stm

A mobile circus to challenge immobility

The beautiful story of the First Palestinian Circus School

The First Palestinian circus school was set up in 2006 when Shadi Zmorrod and Jessika Devlieghere -“father and mother circus”- launched that original project. Based in Ramallah, the school teaches circus arts to children from the West Bank. Bringing much more than circus knowledge to the kids, the school aims to break the barriers– both physical and social- within the Palestinian society, gather people with art, and provide a new way of expression for Palestinian kids. This summer, the Circus school was touring all across the West Bank to present a ‘mobile circus’ filled with Palestinian and Danish performers, joy, motivation and audience’s smile.

It all started in a checkpoint, like many Palestinian stories. At one of the biggest ones in the West Bank -Qalandia- were we met on a Saturday the members of the Palestinian Circus School. It is 3’o clock in the afternoon, and the sun is burning while some 25 teenagers and circus performers are waiting and queuing behind the gates of the checkpoints to leave Ramallah for a day and attend their first performance in Jerusalem.

Sebastian, circus performer from Denmark at Qalandya checkpoint

Pictures: Thomas Freteur

Amongst the teenagers, there’s Mays, Nayef, Marah, Ashtar, Hazar or Fadi … 10 Palestinian circus trainers and students along with Ramit, Mariam, Sebastian, Steffen, ... 7 professional circus performers from Denmark who came to Palestine for cultural cooperation.

The beautiful story of the circus started several years ago when Shadi Zmorrod, a young Palestinian actor discovered randomly circus art in 2000. Two years later, he met Jessika, a Belgian woman who came to Palestine a couple of years ago and fell in love both with the country, the man and the project and decided to stay in the country. Together, they start up a circus project that then became a school. They started out of nothing but now, the determined dreamers have performed with the school in Europe and Palestine, training more than 130 kids in the West Bank.

http://www.palestinemonitor.org/spip/spip.php?article609

Eid al-Fitr arrives to empty pockets

26.09.08 - 11:32

PNN / Fadi Yacoub - Under the Israeli siege and closure imposed on the Gaza Strip, and with the deteriorating economic situation that has followed, the coming Eid al-Fitr is looking bleak. This year is the worst yet, according to many in the Palestinian street. There is little money, prices are up and the dollar is down so low that the world market is being hit hard. Ghazi says there are many obstacles preventing the Eid celebration. He told PNN that in Gaza there is nowhere to go except to walk on the beach. "There is no money to shop or go to cafes." The Gaza resident continued, “The financial hardship experienced by citizens because of underpayment or nonpayment of salaries is an additional hardship to the other factors which include price increases because of the continued Israeli closure of the Gaza crossings.”

http://english.pnn.ps/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=3624&Itemid=1



Abbas: Israeli, US Leadership Changes Won’t Deter Peace Efforts
AHLC Urges Israel to Relax Restrictions, Pledge $300m to PNA

23/09/2008

Palestine Media Center – PMC

En route to his summit meeting at the White House with U.S. President George W. Bush on September 25, Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas said in Dublin, at a joint press conference with the Irish Minister for Foreign Affairs, Miche?l Martin, that the uncertainty caused by leadership changes in Israel and the United States will not deter efforts to further the Arab-Israeli peace process.

Meanwhile a group of international donors pledged nearly $300 million in new aid to the Palestinian National Authority (PNA), according to Palestinian Prime Minister Salam Fayyad, at a meeting of the Ad Hoc Liaison Committee (AHLC), which urged Israel in a statement Monday to curb its settlement activity and relax restrictions on the West Bank and Gaza Strip in order to help revive the Israeli-occupied Palestinian territories.
http://www.palestine-pmc.com/details.asp?cat=1&id=2024

Settlers raid 'Asira al-Qibliya and attack residents, Sept. '08.

Over the past year, settlers from Yitzhar and the surrounding area have sharply stepped up violent acts in nearby Palestinian villages. The attacks include throwing stones at passing cars, physically attacking farmers, burning down crops, and stealing livestock. On 14 Sept., after a Palestinian stabbed a Jewish boy and burnt down a caravan in the Shalhevet Yam settlement near Yitzhar, dozens of settlers raided the village of ‘Asira al-Qibliya. They threw stones, fired into the air, broke windows, drew Stars of David on walls of homes and widely damaged property. Testimonies given to B’Tselem indicate that soldiers were present at the time, yet did nothing to prevent the settlers' actions, and fired at the Palestinians.

http://www.btselem.org/English/Video/20080913_SB_Settler_riot_in_Asira_al_Qibliya.asp