Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Gaza continues to throw up surprises. It is true that there is a lot of poverty, garbage and desperation here. But there are some delights too.
The Conflict Sensitive Journalism course ended today so I decided to celebrate with dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town. I took a short taxi ride south to the Roots Restaurant (no relation to the Canadian clothing chain!) Just off the street are a couple of neat one-storey buildings used for special occasions, and the sound of music and a D-J was blaring from a wedding celebration. But the real focus is the dinning area behind. It’s a vast tiled patio bordered by trees and plants. A flat metal roof provides protection from the rain, if it ever comes, and fairy lights twinkle overhead.
I arrived at 7, far too early for most people here to eat. A few sat around smoking the narghile, the local name for the large, ornate waterpipe that burns flavoured tobacco. I took a pass on the pipe, but the meal was excellent, a beef stew with potatoes and onions, spiced in the Gazan style.
I decided to walk back to the hotel, following the ocean road when I came across a very swish convention centre, currently hosting the Palestine Book Fair. It was closed, but right next door was something I didn’t know existed here: a seaside resort. It is aimed at local people. Kids were running around the grounds while the adults sat at tables sipping coffee and smoking. There’s a row of cute little single-storey beach houses for rent closest to the road, then a broad grass lawn with tables and chairs scattered about. A small bar serves (non-alcoholic) drinks and snacks near the edge of the beach, and behind it, the large stretch of sand, studded with umbrellas and play structures for the children. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s nice to know there is a fun place families here can escape to.
A friendly waiter who spoke no English invited me to sit down, so I ordered a small dark coffee, as thick as mud and scented with cardamom, and looked out at the surf pounding the shore in the night. But even here you can’t escape the Occupation. There’s a long straight line of lights twinkling three kilometers offshore. It looks pretty, until you realize it’s the Israeli-imposed barrier that keeps even fisherman from venturing very far from shore.
It was a nice end to the day, and today was a good end to the course. Trainees presented their final assignment, a short story about the conflict of their choosing. While some writers were clearly better than others, they were all remarkably successful in apply the principles I’ve been talking about for the last five days. They’re still not completely persuaded to adopt everything I’ve said in their daily work. But they’re clearly giving it some serious consideration. When the class ended, I expected they would all disappear immediately, but it seemed no one wanted to leave. They just kept asking questions, debating ideas and taking pictures. I hope that’s a sign that they enjoyed the course.
That’s it for my teaching. The courses went better than I could have hoped and I think I’ve left Palestinian journalists with something to think about. I hope it makes a difference.
Tomorrow, it’s back to Ramallah, then on to new adventures in Bethlehem and in Petra in Jordan!
John
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