YOUSEF HABIBI, IM SORRY--Beit Ommar, Palestine-- 012811

Yousef, habibi, you are gone.....why you became another of the invisible victims of this stupid, unfair occupation? Mohamed your 14 year old brother was arrested in front of my eyes, without me being able to do anything. I wish it was me who was arrested, but it was him and he spent three months in jail for throwing the so called stones that israelis use as an excuse to arrest young Palestinians. I'm sorry that I could not do anything for you or for your brother.....I AM SORRY, HABIBI, I AM SORRY!!! Johanna

I still recall about two months ago,when I was in Beit Ommar. We were attacked with tear gas and sound bombs, by the Israeli military, for demonstrating peacefully against the Israeli occupation and the illegal confiscation of Beit Ommar’s land. I was there, with many other Palestinians and Israelis, that week, like other weeks with their bodies as their only weapon, trying stand for justice.

Beit Ommar is village, south of Bethlehem. The people of Beit Ommar, young and old, still stand and still struggle, every day, every hour, every minute. As did Yousef Fahkri Ikhlayl, a 17 year old Palestinian, until January 28 when he was shot dead in the head by Israeli settlers of Bet Ayn. Today, another innocent young Palestinian adds to the victims of the occupation. But Yousef was not the only victim. This is the second settler attack with live ammunition on Palestinians in as many days. On January 27th, Uday Maher Qadous was shot by settlers while farming his land in the village of Iraq Brin, near Nablus.



The Israeli media just mentioned the event, saying that the settlers were hiking when they were attacked by Palestinians with stones. Then, of course, they had the right to self defense, but with M16’s. Contrary to claims by the Israeli Military of “clashes” in Beit Ommar and Saffa between Israeli settlers and Palestinian resident, in reality Yousef was murdered while working on his family’s fields with his father.

Bekah Wolf, American citizen who worked with Yousef in the Center for Freedom and Justice in Beit Ommar said:‘Yousef was a kid who hoped for a better future for Palestine. His life was ended prematurely by right-wing extremists. People around the world should be outraged by his shooting, and should work to bring his attackers to justice. “

Yousef worked on initiatives with the Palestine Solidarity Project, an anti-occupation organization in Beit Ommar. In the summer of 2010, Yousef attended the Center for Freedom and Justice’s Freedom Flotilla Summer Camp where he engaged in educational projects, community service, and unarmed demonstrations against the Israeli occupation. In the fall of 2010 Yousef was a participant in a youth photography class also sponsored by the center. So he was not just another kid who threw stones.

If this happened in the US, a democracy, the perpetrators would be detained, investigated and prosecuted according to the law, for homicide, but not in Israel. The military was sent to escort the settlers instead of detaining the responsible of the killing. On top of that they attacked the thousands that came to pay respects in Yousef’s funeral with live bullets, tear gas and sound bombs.



The Israeli newspaper Haaretz reported on the killing of Yousef, but did not even mention his name, as if it was not important. The report was accompanied by a picture of Palestinian in East Jerusalem throwing stones, instead of settlers holding guns. It also had statements from Kiryat Arba's council chief Malachi Levinger reiterating claims that the settlers were attacked while hiking in the area, and emphasized what he called as the "right of Jews to travel their country." also adding that “We call upon the IDF and the police to aid the defense of this right and to seek the guilty parties within the rioters not within the travelers who acted in self defense," Levinger added.

Their country according to whom? At least not according to international law. There is consensus among the international community that the settlements on the West Bank are a violation of international law and the occupation is illegal. All of the farmers from the Saffa village have documents proving their ownership of the land, and have been working on the land without military interference for decades.

Bet Ayn is one of over 200 Israeli settlements within the West Bank. Today more than 1,000 settlers from Bet Ayn live on land that was used for centuries by Palestinian families. Residents of Bet Ayn have a long history of violence. They frequently attack neighboring residents of Palestinian villages and destroy their sources of income. The primary reason behind this campaign of terror and destruction is an attempt to deter local Palestinian farmers from farming their land to facilitate the annexation of the land by the Israeli military for further settlement expansion.

But Yousef’s death has reached the international community. Throughout the past week, supporters around the world honored Yousel in Jaffa, Chicago and San Francisco. Finally, the world is awakening.

On Iraqi Realities and Unrealities, Erbil, Iraq 011211

The past two weeks have been overwhelming. A 17-year-old Palestinian shot by the settlers in Beit Ommar. Closely following the events in Egypt and just wanting to be in that same Tahrir Square I was a little bit more than a year ago. But now is different, last year it was just us, internationals standing in Tahrir Square, but now, it just lifts my heart to see it filled with Egyptians both young and old, women and men, Christian and Muslims. The images are just so empowering. When I was there two months ago, I never imagined that this will unfold, otherwise I would have stayed there.

I cannot find words to express how I feel. Sometimes angry, sad, and sometimes frustrated. Sometimes grateful for the freedom I have, just by virtue of being born American. I find myself just living the Iraqi reality, where basic things such as electricity are unavailable most of the time. I will be writing a more deep analysis on that soon, but for now just know that it is even a struggle to take a hot shower, because of the lack of electricity, so that happens only once or twice a week. I took a shower today, well, a half shower. I really lost count on when was my last shower. My roommate makes fun of me, and tells me to thank the Ministry of Electricity.

Electricity is an issue, but there is gas and tea to keep one warm...


Nights in Iraq are cold, I sleep with many blankets and even sometimes I feel cold. It is midnight, and as I write, the electricity is gone, like every day at this time. There are two kinds of electricity supply, the public one provided by the state and the private supplied by generators. My roommate explained, “We have to switch to the one that is available”. It took me more than a week to understand which was which, after every day around midnight, the electricity supply changes to the state supply and mostly all day, the generators take over. “This is not life” my roommate exclaims every time, and I have learned to echo her slogan.

Snow on the Iraq mountains in Shaqlawa

As I mentioned before, one of the big challenges is being a woman and trying to live in a male dominated society, where women are barely seen out alone. So this has been one of my challenges. Every day, after work, I sit in a cafe that is close to my work, I am the only girl, and I have to deal with all the guys looking at me, like if I was something strange. I can because I am not from here, so my “reputation” will not be stained, nor anyone will kill me for dishonoring my family. But local girls have it miserable to live like that, they don’t have a social life, they just go home and sit in the computer or talk on the phone, and just try to look for a husband so they can be free to go out without being judged. Oftentimes I find myself thinking like an Iraqi girl, as I have been living, working, laughing and crying and sharing their frustrations for the past two months. These are beautiful, well prepared women, they know about the opportunities they could have if they leave Iraq, but there is a lot of pressure on them and while they manage to find their way out, they have to stick to the rules.


My coworker putting make up on our way to work


I came here to see “the real Iraq”, the face of Iraq that is not shown by the mainstream media, the poor and the marginalized by the war, but in turn I have found another face of Iraq: the face of the internal struggle seen in my own co-workers, the faces of the guys that work on the cafe, and the supermarket I buy my groceries from. The faces of the internally displaced Iraqis that turn to Kurdistan as their source of stability, jobs, peace and security. The faces of those who look fine on the outside, but that have a big pain inside. The pain of being away from their families, the pain of having lost everything in Baghdad, of having being threatened to death and pushed out of their homes because of their religious views. The pain of women being trapped in a society that oppresses and discriminates her, that does not allow her to be a WOMAN. On the same day, three of the young women, who are close to me complained about the same: they felt sad, and depressed, the daily routine of going to work and coming back home, without nothing else to do, no chances to participate in society, to go out with friends, have fun, to be active in their communities, to be able to shape their future. An I found myself suffering from the same things.

A typical scene at the suq next to the citadel, Erbil

An equally challenging thing is having to deal with the Kurdish bureaucracy: that is NOT EASYYY! The Assayish, (kind of like the Kurdish CIA) has to give me the clearance for renewing my visa, which with this bureaucracy, is never going to happen! I was really disappointed because after my visit to the Ministry of Interior and waiting for one week, they just dismissed me with a list of documents, some of which at this point are very complicated to get, including an 8,000$ guarantee letter which someone has to give me! Also, they need a letter stating that I am residing here in Ankawa and I have to show proof of residence, which I really don’t have because I am not even renting a place.

For the past month, I have been living with one of my coworkers, I stay here and there. I don't even have an address, well, nobody really does. If you ask people for an address, they will say, next to the supermarket. I say I live by the Venus restaurant. Is really funny. So, how do you get mail, I asked. "We don't " my co-worker replied. I really confirmed this today, when I was checking the UN contact list of active NGO’s in Kurdistan. The address column was filled with, next to the gas station, behind UNICEF old building, and the like. How do you get your electricity bill. "There is a collector that comes to every house and collects the money for the month". And of course, you pay cash. And about water, people here pay 250 ID, which is less than $0.25. "People here wash their cars every day and clean all the time”. These are some of the faces of the real Iraq that I came to experience and that every day are making me appreciate the freedoms that we have. I have not only heard the frustrations of Iraqis, but also lived them myself. The only difference is that at any time I can take a bus or a plane and leave this country, but they have to deal with them, to lift their heads, dry their tears and tell themselves that is going to get better.

I know I am only writing about the challenging things, but this to remind myself of the beauties that surround Kurdistan


Half an hour from Erbil these are the amazing views of Iraq


These are the things that I really appreciate and that help me forget for a few hours of the other more difficult things.....

Let's do it the Kurdish way, PLEASE!--Erbil, Iraq, 012611

I will introduce you to the Kurdish way of doing things: 


Here in Kurdistan, bureaucracy reigns. In order to do anything you need three things: money, time and a lot of patience. Things are not organized let alone there are any procedures, and if there are, they are subject to change without any previous notice. If you need anything done, you need to pay for it. It [the government] works as a private company, like in most parts of the Middle East. Either you have "wasta" -know someone-- or you have to pay, before you get white hair waiting for things at any governmental office. I learned the words for up and down [in reference to the location of the different offices I was referred to], "sere and khware" respectively. I guess the government is the biggest source of employment, so they have created so many positions to deal with the same thing, and to make it more difficult for people. They do this so people don't have time to think about important things, but just worry about basic things like food, electricity, bureaucracy, etc.



So, with that background, now I'll tell you how I tried to renew my visa, after being here in Kurdistan little more than a month. First, when we got to the building, the parking lot was full, so we had to park on the "street". But there was no such thing as a street since all was just covered by mud. We parked and attempted to walk on the mud. I felt as if my feet where being swallowed by the mud, they felt heavier and heavier....I couldn't stop thinking, Oh My God, if I fall, (which is likely to happen to me) how am I going to get out of this mess. I think I got more than a kilo of mud on my white shoes...



Thank God, this is the capital city, imagine elsewhere. Construction and development everywhere, but the auxiliary infrastructure to support that development is unexistent. How does the Kurdistan Regional Government expects to expand and open to the world, but still keeps this archaic methods that date from the Ottoman times? We went to a small office and got the petition for the visa extension, then to the second office, the Passport Control office number 3, where the guy just look at your paper and sends you to the next office, then to number 11 and then to number 15, or whatever. I counted 6 different office, the last one being the "Blood Test Department". I did the blood sample and I have to return on Sunday, to finish the process. So I guess that was the easy part.



I have my solution to the mud issue for next time, I will get a couple of plastic bags and wrap my shoes around them. This is the latin way, if you cannot deal with them, join them. So far, ALL my shoes (3 pairs in total) are full of mud, but what can I do, if I can't fly...Yet. Maybe Barzani has to come here and see how things around here!

Chronicles of a Woman’s Friday in Iraq--Erbil, Iraq 011411

Yesterday was Friday, and the weekend here in Iraq. I decided to visit around the ancient citadel of Erbil. It is like 15-20 minutes from Ankawa. I wanted to walk a little bit because the weather was nice. A lot of cars when passing by me were honking. So far, I was feeling safe but I started to worry when I noticed that a pick-up slowed down and stopped next to me. While walking, I was taking pictures and I took a picture next to a house and a generator. The guy started to ask, in Arabic, something related to the picture and the house. I couldn’t understand all that he said, but he was not happy that I took that picture.

There is a lot of private security around, and apparently he was one of them. I asked what was the problem with taking a picture. I guess he thought I was a terrorist, taking pictures to later put a bomb! So I just kept walking and ignore him. Later, I noticed some other cars slowing down, and sometimes stopping ahead of me. I just tried to cross and walk on the other side of the street. I couldn’t believe that a woman couldn’t walk on a main street without being harassed. So, I thought about not pursuing my visit to the citadel.

I called my Iraqi friend and told him about my frustration. Why couldn’t I walk freely, what’s wrong with men here?. He advised me to ignore the cars and to take it easy. He said is better when women walk together. It felt really strange for me, coming from Palestine, Cairo and Turkey, and traveling all the time alone. What was different about Iraq? I have been here in the Middle East for more than 6 months and this never happened before. I told him I just wanted to enjoy myself and walk but that I could not even do that, without being harassed, plus there was nothing to do around here. He said that it was safe, to just try to walk and see what I could find, to try to enjoy the culture, see the differences between the culture and people here and my own culture;to explore around. I complained about how can I enjoy and explore if I cannot even feel free to walk, plus I didn’t know my way around. I complained that this was not what I came for and I felt I was wasting my time.

He asked me: “What did you come for, what were you expecting?”.

I replied: “I came to see the real Iraq”

But this was part of the real Iraq; there is not only poor people. This was also an Iraqi reality, and now I was experiencing it. He said, this is the reality, there is nothing to do. Young people struggle with this.

Shops with traditional Kurdish images


Ankawa is not a poor neighborhood, the houses here are very big and beautiful, but there is something else missing. There are no cinemas or clubs, or places for young people to gather and exchange ideas. Young people here is not motivated [to stay here], they often look to America as an escape to this traditional society, where there is no freedom. I was experiencing another face of the Iraqi society. Iraqi youth is connected to the rest of the world through technology, some of them speak perfect English, and there are new universities being established to educate the next generation of Iraqi leaders. But if they don’t find any freedom, they are feeling trapped and their only hope is to move out of Iraq. How do we expect to build a strong society?

Barzani, the Kurdistan Region President and Jesus, next to each other


So, after my conversation, I hesitated to go to Erbil, but in the end I turned my frustration into courage. My friend was right, I had to embrace the differences, try to understand them for what they were, and get the best of this experience, and the best was not to stay afraid and do anything, so I crossed the street when I saw a taxi that was leaving some women on the other side. So now, the challenge was, to get to Erbil city center. Of course the taxi driver asked how old I was and if I was married, which I tried to avoid answering pretending I didn’t understand him. I managed to accomplish the first part of the mission.






Once in the city center, I saw the impressive Citadel, dominating majestically the panorama. Now, the mission was to survive as one of the few women there. I mean, there were a couple of women, accompanied by their husband and children, but alone, there was not a single one, well just me. I found three young women and asked them to take some pictures, and they told me how to get to the top of the citadel.



It has been claimed that the site is the oldest continuously inhabited town in the world. The earliest evidence for occupation of the citadel mound dates to the 5th millennium BC, and possibly earlier. which lies 30 meters above the ground and is 7000 years old. On the bottom entrance there was an old man with a shop, I sat with him and he offered me a piece of his chocolate bar. I thought, oh, thank God that not all men are stupid. He said that he had 4 boys and 4 girls, and invited me to his house and said he will take me around in the car to visit many places. I went up to the citadel and walked around the once ancient city that is now in the UNESCO list.

Views of the mountains from the citadel


When I came down, I asked the man on the shop if there was a bathroom. He pointed to the other side of the street, where there was a mosque and lot of people. I guess because it was Friday and they were praying. It took me a while to realize I was the only woman walking on the packed sidewalk. At one point, I stopped and looked around and all eyes were on me. It felt a little bit intimidating but I took a deep breath and kept walking, telling myself, I had the same right that these men, to be there, and walk freely. I wondered around the stores and even bought a lipgloss by almost sign language.

Men in the market and I was just sitting and observing


Kurdish flag


I went back to where I started. It was a square, with water fountains, and benches, and little coffee shops. I wanted to have a coffee, but again was intimidated by the all men atmosphere. What the hell, I was already there and they were already looking at me, so I stopped in a small shop and asked the boy for Nescafe—a ready mix coffee-creamer-sugar—and sat among the all men crowd. A man came and asked me if I knew Kurdish and I said “ Kurdi nazanem” (I don’t know Kurdish) and he left. They were playing Shemame, a Kurdish song from Turkey that I know, but I reminded myself that I cannot dance in public, so I was just singing and laughing to myself.

Teaching myself Kurdish-sitting with my coffee



After I finished the coffee, I came back home, of course after having another interview with the taxi driver, I told him I had a Kurdish boyfriend and even with that he offered his services if I needed to go anywhere. I can’t believe that women here have to put up with all these challenges; on a daily basis. What is wrong with men here? But I am satisfied that at least I managed to challenge the stereotypes by daring to sit around all the men in the square. I was not scared, I was looking at them too. I was dying to know what they were thinking. I was smiling timidly and then looking back at my Kurdish notes. I guess they were as curious as me. I was wondering if any of them was going to say something to me and I guess they were curious as to why I was there by myself.

The Nescafe is a very sweet mix of mostly sugar, with a coffee flavor which is spread all over the Middle East


Mission accomplished, and proud I survived Friday day out in the city! Up for next Friday?

We Give Life and Love, and We Get Violence and Inequality-- Khabat, Iraqi Kurdistan--010511

“Women contributes tenderness, love, conservation of life, values, patience,.....Thank God for making me a woman, but how hard is to be so here in Iraq” Johanna L. Rivera/ Jose L. Redondo

We returned back to Khabat, for our second day in the survey. Khabat is just 30 minutes from Erbil, well, with our driver, surely less. Erbil is the capital of the Autonomous Iraqi Kurdistan Region. On one hand; the poor infrastructure of Khabat and on the other, massive development and investment being poured into Erbil, construction of villas, malls, cinemas and billboards that read “Democracy cannot be achieved without justice”. There is construction and dust EVERYWHERE, whereas in Khabat, there is no sewage system. You can see the sewage water running on many streets as the kids run and play around.



We met Kak Faisal[Kak is a polite way to address a person here in Kurdistan] and the took us to our first home. As we explained the survey and the benefits from participating on it to the woman, she was very receptive. She started answering to our questions and then 2 men one of them her brother, entered the room. My colleague explained to him the purpose of our visit and how we were seeking to identify women to participate in the survey and eventually in the courses. He was opposed to her sister participating in any kind of course let alone working outside the house. He said that “Our tradition does not allow women to work outside the house”, besides he pointed out that his sister was old (she was in her forties) and she would not be able to learn anything in such a short time (a 3 month-course). I didn’t notice when exactly the woman left the room, but we could not complete our survey and left the house politely thanking the brother (FOR NOTHING!!!)



The houses we visited seemed to be constructed recently. You could tell because most of them were on bare concrete blocks, no decoration. The infrastructure around this village is very scarce. You can see the sewage running on channels on the street, there is a lot of garbage around. Kids playing and running on the streets, along the sewage.





We went to a second house, where we interviewed a woman, she was 23. She was married at the age of 13 and divorced at age 19. Her children were not with her, as she doesn’t have any means of supporting herself or providing for them. This situation (the early marriage), which could seem unacceptable for us, is a common practice in this traditional society. Marrying at this early age, leaves women no choice but to leave school, often without reading and writing skills, to attend her wife’s duties and leaving her depending only on her husband. When he leaves or dies, she is left with her children and no source of income, sending her and her children into deep poverty.


Some Statistics:
The estimated number of widows and divorcees reached 2 million out of a total population of 30 million. Many of these widows’ loss stem from wars of the past decades, including the Iran-Iraq War, the First Gulf War, and the American invasion with its resulting sectarian violence. The Iraqi government has not been providing sufficient financial assistance to this vulnerable group and women are often in need of humanitarian aid. On a recent study by Oxfam, 76% of widows said they did not receive a pension from the government. 40% of women with children reported that their sons and daughters were not attending school. Another study by the World Food Program found that 12.4% of households in Erbil were headed by women.



Largely widowed and almost entirely all without any employment, the female-headed households live in constant threat of eviction with few if any alternatives, making them especially vulnerable to exploitation and violence as they search for other means to find food and shelter. IOM research in 2008 identified victims of trafficking in northern and central Iraq with profiles of the victims revealing that more than half of female victims were orphans or from single parent families. Another IOM survey of 1,355 female-headed displaced families who have returned to their places of origin found that 74 percent are struggling to secure adequate nutrition for their families.

Kitchen of one of the families we visited for the survey in Khabat. Photo by Johanna L. Rivera

In addition to this, one in five women (21%) in Iraq aged 15-49 has suffered physical violence at the hands of the husband. 14% of women who suffered physical violence were pregnant at the time. 33% have suffered emotional violence, and 83% have been subjected to controlling behavior by the husbands.



Iraqi women and girls are not fully aware of their rights. 59% of women aged 15-49 believe that it is acceptable for a man to beat his wife under certain circumstances. This figure is higher in rural areas (70%) and among women with no formal education (71%). Women aged between 15 and 24 are as likely to tolerate abuse as older generations.



In a recent survey by Oxfam titled In He Own Words, Iraqi women talk about their greatest concerns and challenges, 1,700 women were interviewed and talked about their stories. Here I leave you with one of the stories that really made me take a deep breath:

“My son Amer graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering and was planning to get married…. On 5 November 2007, three days before his wedding, he and my daughter Basimah, along with a friend, went out to buy the wedding dress and other wedding accessories in the Al Karradah neighbourhood market in Baghdad. Two hours later, someone called us from Basimah’s mobile phone to tell us that they had been admitted to the hospital as a result of an explosion…. When I arrived, I started searching among the injured patients, running from one ward to another going crazy. Then they took me to the mortuary and there I found them. I wept silently for such a long time and so all the other women around me began weeping too....

I wished I were dead when I saw their bodies in the morgue piled on top of each other. I can't forget the scene of them even for one moment.... I wish I could see them again. They were the fruit of my life and the only hope I had in this world. …. We have received no pension money to live on…there are so many cases of widows and others [who have lost loved ones and breadwinners] who are also not receiving anything from the government, no compensation or pension."

-- Emman’s elderly husband is ill with cancer and can no longer work. Emman said that she and her husband always struggled economically, but had enough to ensure their children attended university so they could improve the family’s situation. Her daughter Basimah had a good job as a computer programmer but had resigned due to rampant insecurity shortly before she was killed.

So, I leave you ---------with something to think about as I keep on my journey deep into the Iraqi women’s struggle.


All of us, men and women, soldiers and peacekeepers, citizens and leaders—have a responsibility to help end violence against women, UN Secretary General, Ban Ki Moon

Thoughts and Reflections for the New Year—Iraq 123110

How do I start gathering my thoughts about this year of 2010? First, I have to say that it has been a very productive one. A year full of changes, challenges, and decisions made, of letting go of some things and people and embracing others, losing but mainly gaining. A lot of traveling, and when I say a lot, is a LOTTTT! From NY to Cairo and back, and then back again….

In Cairo, holding the PR flag, full of puerotrican children's hands in solidarity for the children in GAZA, December, 2009. 

I started and ended my year in the Middle East. Last year, on New Year’s Eve, I was in Cairo, in my first international activism mission. I took part on the Gaza Freedom March, an international delegation that gathered around 1,400 people in Cairo, whose purpose was to challenge the siege of Gaza. It was the first anniversary of Operation Cast Lead, and we wanted to get the world’s attention on the approximately 1,400 people killed by this unjust Israeli attack on civilian population. Although most of us didn’t make it into Gaza, we stayed in Cairo for a week, annoying the Egyptian government, also complicit of the siege, for enforcing Israeli policies and for not letting us get into Gaza. We did actions and demonstrations every day; from climbing the pyramids and hanging the Palestinian flag, to the biggest international gathering on Dec 31st near the Egyptian Museum.




I remember that, when everyone was getting ready for the New Year to come, we were getting ready to make our voices heard. More than 500 people from 42 countries gathered and came out to the street in front of the Egyptian Museum paralyzing the traffic. Immediately, we were confronted by the Egyptian riot and undercover police, that had been all week following us. They started to kick people and to try to break the demonstration.

During the demonstration on December 31st, 2009, Cairo, Egypt. Photo by Johanna L. Rivera.

The sense of unity that I experienced was incredible. Everybody was holding each other, while being beaten or kicked, or women being pulled by their hair. I remember a guy that held me and hugged me after I was shocked and crying because of my confrontation with the police (I was not beaten, but still was PTSD). This guy whom I didn’t know was holding me and I experienced a sense of peace and comfort. The people's bonding and unity was amazing. It was the same feeling I experienced last November, on one of Beit Ommar's demonstration when being teargassed by the IDF. The feeling that no one can break the unity and strength that comes from standing for justice and truth. It almost feels that your spirit rises and you are so powerful and not afraid of what can happen.

I imagine that was the same feeling that activists from the Freedom Flotilla felt when their boats were illegally taken by the Israeli military (May 2010). That same spirit that makes Palestinians go on every week in Beit Ommar, Bil’in, Al Walaja and many other villages fighting in non violent ways. I guess among all my frustration and sometimes helplessness, I feel there is some hope. Hope that comes from the past months living this journey deep into the struggle. Knowing that there is evil, sure, but that there is more good. Sitting at a table around Israeli and Palestinian activists after a demo, knowing that they are fighting with the only weapons they have; their bodies and spirits and that there is no man-made weapon that can overpower truth. The Israeli military, with their US-made weapons can kill many, but they will never kill the spirit of truth; and the truth is that we are all human beings, made equal and that we don't own the land; the land owns us. And I will add that my hope, even when sometimes is mixed with tears and frustration is the only thing I can take with me on this journey, is the only thing that keeps me standing in the middle of the struggle.

The hope I got from the people at the Tent of Nations, fighting everyday against the illegal occupation of their land. They have been successful for the past 10 years from preventing the Israelis of taking over their land. Hope from my girls from Bethlehem, because in their eyes and smiles I see that we have to keep the cry for justice, so they, one day will be free to see the ocean. The hope from the bedouine people of El Arakib, rebuilding their village again and again after its 9th consecutive demolition. The people in Beit Ommar, Issawiya, that confront the soldiers every day, and stand against the occupation. The women from KAYAN working from within to empower other women to gain more social and political participation and to fight Israel's racism. The hope from ALL the people I met that work everyday to fight injustice and inequality.

In the weekly demo in Beit Ommar against the illegal appropriation of land from the farmers


But still, many questions remain. First, I want to understand what is behind all this disproportionate violence. How is it that a human being can react in such a way as to use such disproportionate violence against an unarmed civilian, to purposely KILL. Today, there were news report of a Palestinian killed at a checkpoint in Nablus, because the Palestinian attacked the soldier with a bottle. How does that work? I hit you with a bottle and you kill me, when you are the one oppressing me and taking away all my freedoms and rights on the first place. I have been on the checkpoint when there have been excessive delays of more than one hour of just waiting and one soldier on top of us, on the roof with a gun, just watching, indifferent, while smoking a cigarette how the Palestinians get anxious.

Entrance of BETHLEHEM checkpoint


Second, I want to understand what is behind these terrorist attacks here in Iraq (the main one in October 31st) , on the Christian community. How come, in the name of religion, you can justify bombing a church, although what is said here is that what caused the bombing was that the government intervened in an inappropriate way by failing to negotiate with the terrorists but went inside the church, causing the attack to be worse. I guess this mistake in strategy is political too. I don’t know about you, but it makes me ANGRY, in a different way than the Palestinian-Israeli issue makes me angry. I don’t know why or how people become so brainwashed to do such things but I know how it feels (here in Iraq) to be afraid in the very place you are supposed to find peace and lift your spirit.

I can only hope that peace will come, one person at a time, one smile at a time. I know I cannot change the way or the politics of these conflicts. If I had a magic stick and could make ONE wish come true for next year, it would be to make the first commandment true. LOVE YOUR NEXT AS YOURSELF! At least I think that would be a good start.

Children playing in Khabat village 20 km out of Erbil--Iraq their eyes and smiles help me keep on this struggle. Photo by Johanna L. Rivera

Children from Beit Ommar village in Palestine, for them I keep my hope. Photo by Johanna L. Rivera

Look What I found around here in Iraq, Khabat, Erbil 010411

Today we visited Khabat, a village 20 km out of Erbil to conduct a survey about widowed women. The survey is part of a bigger project that is intended to be used as a base for an income generating project. This village has refugee families from other parts of Iraq because the region [Kurdistan] is the safest area in Iraq. Some of the women are the wives of the disappeared men and are still waiting for their husbands to return and they still do not know whether they are really widows or not. But in this situation their personal status is unclear leaving them with complex problems and unable to find closure and move on with their lives. For example, there are still mass graves to be identified and excavated. Women are extremely vulnerable in this situation. Another problem is the women with husbands who left their wives.

There are several women head of households either because they are divorced or widows. This leaves a big burden for this women that often have very little or no source of income.



We arrived to Khabat and waited over a cup of tea, as we were trying to go over the lists that were provided to us. Our local contact Faisal, who works with the municipality,arrived and took us to the major's house. There, with another cup of sweet tea, where we were sorting the lists from the Ministry of Martyrs and the Ministry of Labor and Social Affairs. The major is a more accurate source of information, since he knows the women and could identify immediately, who was who just by reading the names from the list.

After the major’s house, Kak Faisal took us to a house, there was a woman called Belal, who lived with her 2 children, Mohamed and Ahmad and her mother. We sat there and had some more tea and started the survey, explaining to the woman that we were going to provide her with some training that will give her some skills for her to bring some income to the house. The woman, 26, was abandoned by her husband and left with nothing when he married another woman. She now lives on a rented house with her mother, who is a widow and receives a modest income of 200,000 Iraqi Dinars ($167). The woman only completed primary school and she forgot how to read and write.

The infrastructure in Khabat is very poor, no sewage system

Me with Mohamed and Ahmed, aren't they adorable?

As my colleague, Dastan talked to the woman,in Kurdish, I noticed his soft and sympathetic tone. The two children, 4 and 5 years old were sitting beside us as we talked to their mom. I was immediately in love with them and trying to play games and gain their friendship as I was thinking what kind of future these children will have here in Iraq. Will they be able to go to school? What about their young, and beautiful mother? Will she be able to find a loving husband that takes care about her and her two boys. It is unfortunate, but I think the answer is no! Will this generation of men continue this cycle of violence against women?

We were making a survey and were welcomed in every single house, here we went with the major, which is a very reliable source when looking for a specific set of women, young and with children to be able to provide them with training to make them self sufficient.



After this first interview, we went to the municipality and there we met with a woman that provided us with another list of women and more tea. By now I am really hungry and hoping this sugar overload helps me.

It’s all kind of confusing and sad, but I am glad to be here and have this opportunity, to see the real face of Iraqi women. There are so many things that I would like to know about these women, which are about my age, and most of the time younger than me. I look at their eyes and I see how strong they are, I mean, you have to be strong on this culture to survive all the oppression that this society imposes on women. All the pressure is on the woman, she has to be perfect in order to accepted and be able to marry, perfect in her husband’s eyes, for her own family, for her husband’s family and in the end for what?

But sometimes we faced rejection from the men living with the women, this very traditional society does not allow women to work out of the house. If they are widow or divorced, they have to move with a relative and cannot provide for themselves, making them and their children poor and vulnerable.



Sometimes I am just glad that I was not born in this kind of society, and that I don’t have to deal with this. THANK GOD!!!!Sometimes I just feel sorry for them and I am angry that we as women have to accept this, just because “it’s the tradition” or because that is what women are supposed to do. I can’t believe we are on the 21st century and dealing with these issues that are leaving women illiterate, poor and dispossessed if they are widowed or divorced. I am frustrated because there is a lot of work to do before these “traditions” are changed and women are able to break this unjust cycle of oppression that leads to poverty and violence. Maybe it will take a generation or two, to educate men as well as women but I think it can be done, it MUST be done.

These children are vulnerable in many ways if their mothers are unable to have an income.