Dead small

I have 3 dead pixels in the middle of my MacBook Pro and although being mildly annoying, it still works. Jamal, the boy who we took from the West Bank to Jerusalem to have heart surgery had a defective heart. Basically, there was a gap and so clean blood was mixing with the ‘dirty’ blood and so he, wasn’t working properly. He nearly didn’t make it through the checkpoint. With Warren and Doctor Hassan, we did make a difference. Doctor Hassan, was someone we bumped into at the checkpoint. Because he helped us get through he subsequently had his magnetic pass confiscated. It got given back but he is scared of going through the checkpoints now. What the surgical and ICU team did, and continue to do, is saves lives. Ever seen a baby die right in front of you? Me neither, but it got pretty close at times. What PCRF (Palestine Children’s Relief Fund ) do is bring these people to the Middle East and help children who need it most. Most of the children I have met from Palestine are sweet, well behaved kids. They don’t scream, or shout or kick up unnecessary fuss but are warm and respectful towards others. Of course the street kids, the tough ones, throw stones at ‘the wall’ or Israeli soldiers is understandable. Of course, they tend to get shot at with a machine gun. Like the one I met at the hospital and the ones at Ramallah.

Those who know me know I am fairly grounded and fairly tough. And I have to say I haven’t had a lot of heart for many things over the last few years. But seeing ‘the wall’, the Israeli military at checkpoints, the Israeli illegal settlements on Palestinian land, hearing first hand about ‘sonic booms’ at night in Gaza, Jamal being turned away at the checkpoint, his family being reunited with him, the feelings of the nurses and doctors who live under occupation and the daily struggle of getting to work to Jerusalem, the family who were rocket fired on when they were on a beach (killing six, all but one, who PCRF are helping)… . On the day I came back from the West Bank and got to my hotel room, I cried. Since leaving Palestine I have had a residue of indignation in my heart and a fire in my stomach. The unsettling things I have heard, seen and experienced have not calmed through being away from there, but in fact grown stronger. It’s been a very long time since I felt a desire to help a cause for a people and individuals who I warmed to very quickly. So warm and friendly were the family and doctors that it felt like home. And like family, it pains me deeply to see them live under such conditions.

Please, take a serious moment; Imagine going on a day out to Brighton with your friends or family and then having a rocket fired upon you killing all of them but you. That’s not going to happen though, because we don’t live in the Gaza strip.

For now, I will be supplying them with photographs for their annual report. Later, I will be collating a series of photographs of my trip and seeking an exhibition to promote PCRF’s work. I hope to be working with PCRF in the future in their ongoing projects.

The documentary I shot will be made into a short promotional doc for PCRF and a longer version will be cut with intent to sell for distribution and/or screenings in festivals.

I was told, ‘but how many can you save? How much can you help? There isn’t much you can do’. My answer to that would be that if it wasn’t for us, those two children would still have a heart condition today that needed surgery and that saving ONE life, is worth your effort, the numbers are degrees... Watching the family reunited reminded me that one life is not just one life, it is an integral part of a whole. It also reminded me that dead pixels, should be the least of my concerns. Fight the good fights… the rest isn’t important.



http://www.pcrf.net/first.html

- J