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<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Here is an account sent to us by Yehudit Harel
about an episode of Israeli soldiers commiting acts of vandalism/theft/looting
in Ramallah. Yehudit, among other things, is very active in Gush
Shalom.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Bryan</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial
size=2>---------------------------------------------------------</FONT> <FONT
face=Arial size=2></FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Dear All,<BR>I am getting more and more accounts
not only about the IDF soldiers looting private homes and businisses - but also
about senseless vandalyzing of privare homes. The Israeli IDF soldiers behave
like Thirld World Army Hooligans - leaving behind them death, fear and
destruction.<BR> <BR>This is a story I got from a of a friend of mine
accounting the experience of a professor of sociology at Birzeit University,
Majdi al-Malki. The Interview was completed by mobile phone, under curfew
by my friend in Ramallah - Rita.<BR>Yehudith Harel</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>On Thursday March 30th, 2002, we left our house,
located close to<BR>the governorate of Ramallah at around 5 pm. We were
expecting a<BR>concentrated attack on President Arafat's compound.
The<BR>compound is barely a 100 meters away from our house. We<BR>thought we had
to leave our house to protect our children,<BR>especially our eight year old
child who terribly fears the awful<BR>noises of war, as she had previously been
sensitized to them. And<BR>so we went to the center of town to my mother's,
thinking it would<BR>be safer.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>At about 4.30 the next morning, Friday, we began to
hear loud<BR>explosions coming from the area of the President's compound.
By<BR>seven in the morning, we tried to call our neighbors, but the
lines<BR>were already cut. During the first 48 hours of this onslaught,
we<BR>could not reach anyone in our area at all.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>On that Friday at around 2 p.m., Israeli tanks and
armored vehicles<BR>entered the middle of town, and the first battle in the
downtown<BR>area began to rage right by Rukab's Icecream Parlor,
that<BR>landmark of Ramallah's downtown. It so happened that my<BR>mother's
house is located in the same building, on the third floor.<BR>Suddenly, we found
ourselves right in the middle of the battle that<BR>we were trying to avoid by
leaving our house. And so we hid in one<BR>of the rooms that we thought was
relatively safe. We heard many<BR>explosions, and Dalia, our eight year old
began to cry and cry and<BR>cry. We held her and tried as you can imagine, to
comfort her. This<BR>lasted about half an hour. Once it quieted down, I took a
look out<BR>and discovered that shells had entered in shops and buildings
right<BR>around us.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>When it quieted down, we thought that the battle
was over. And so<BR>I began to assure Dalia, and tell her that she would not go
through<BR>this again. By night-time, she discovered that our sitting
area,<BR>located right in the middle of all the rooms was the safest place,
so<BR>she decided to sleep there, and insisted that I sleep with her on
the<BR>floor, on a mattress. At about 2 am Saturday morning, once again,<BR>we
began to hear shelling and shooting even heavier than before.
I<BR>estimated that all this came from down below our house, but had<BR>no idea
where it was directed. Dalia of course woke up and sat on<BR>my lap in great
fear. After a long half hour of shelling, suddenly the<BR>neon light fell, the
house shook; it was as if we were in the midst of<BR>an earthquake, glass broke,
we had no idea where, it sounded like<BR>everywhere, and Dalia was stunned with
fear. Everyone else<BR>crawled, including Reem, my one year old, into our hiding
area.<BR>This battle went on and on and on till 6 am in the morning.
Those<BR>were the longest 4 hours in Dalia's and certainly my life.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>By 6 am, we began to hear loudspeakers calling on
the Palestinian<BR>fighters to surrender. And then it quieted down till 11 am,
we just<BR>heard the bad noises of tanks roaming around. Then our phone<BR>rang.
These were the neighbors, the only ones who remained in our<BR>building. They
told us that they had been held for two days in their<BR>house, but all
locked in one room, without access to phones or<BR>people or anything, even the
electricity was cut off. They also told<BR>us that they were able to call us now
because the army has left the<BR>house and released them. They also told us that
our house was<BR>used during these two days as a dormitory by the Israeli
army,<BR>specifically, one of the Golani Brigades. Those that stayed in
our<BR>house were an unbelievable 70 soldiers in a space of about 200<BR>meters.
When the army left, our house was left in total disarray,<BR>they had used
everything as if they never saw homes before. We<BR>were told that they even
used the ordinary floors, carpeted, in lieu<BR>of toilets.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>My wife Nadia freaked out and began to cry. I did
not what to do<BR>nor what to think. But by then, battles started raging all
over again<BR>where we were, and we had to pay attention to our safety
and<BR>forget the disaster at our house for a while. And then, Dalia began<BR>to
throw up, and would no longer eat, and I began to seriously<BR>worry about her
health. I called friends and sought assistance via<BR>ambulance for my child. It
is a long story, but finally the ambulance<BR>came, and we were taken to a safer
place, my sister's house.<BR>Once we got to what we thought was safety,
Dalia began to cry,<BR>and everyone else as well, old and young. Personally, I
cried when<BR>I stepped out and saw the destruction in the street. In the course
of<BR>this dangerous trip, we were able to carry with us bread for all<BR>those
on that other side who had none. Once people saw the<BR>ambulance a large number
from different homes all came out<BR>calling on us to give them bread, some had
not eaten for days.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>Four days later, we were able to get back to our
house, when the<BR>curfew was lifted so that people could obtain basic
provisions.<BR>First, we were shocked by our stairs, so dirty, leftover food,
leftover<BR>urine, leftover everything. As we entered, the entire door
was<BR>broken and out of place completely. We went in, there was<BR>unbelievable
dirt around, all over, everything thrown to the floor. In<BR>the bedroom, all
was on the floor, and then we began to discover<BR>what they had stolen: all my
wife's gold, my children's jewelery,<BR>even the little gold bracelets and
ear-rings of our one year old<BR>Reem that people usually give here at the birth
of a girl ; They also<BR>stole my sunglasses, my cell phone charger, there was
no money<BR>in the house that I left, but they had stolen our Dalia's
pocket<BR>money, around 50 shekels that were in her piggyback. They tore<BR>the
curtains. The kitchen utensils were on the floor, our provision,<BR>like rice
and lentils were on the floor, and the bathroom, I will not<BR>speak about the
bathroom. Even Dalia's storybooks and toys were<BR>torn and on the floor. And
they also tore out Dalia's drawing of<BR>tanks as well as her notebook of
stories. They even stepped on<BR>and soiled Reem's bed covers for a reason I
just cannot<BR>understand. All the other neighbor's homes were destroyed in
the<BR>same way.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial size=2>I just cannot understand. I can see that they
wanted to use the<BR>house to sleep and rest, but I cannot fathom why they
would<BR>destroy and steal this way. I feel bitter, very
bitter.<BR></FONT></DIV></BODY></HTML>