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| Nablus City Centre |
Yesterday morning I felt very sick ... the whole night I was wheezing and had difficulty breathing due to phlegm accumulation, and I didn't have the strength to cough it out. That meant walking around the terrace for a couple of hours. I really wanted to sleep but if I did, I'd choke to death.
In the morning, our students were telling me not to go to Nablus as I looked very ill. But I had to as there were medicines and food to deliver to the MC sisters for the poor. The journey is long and tedious, about one and a half hours through the mountains of Samaria. And the sun beats down relentlessly. The danger is falling asleep at the wheel as the road is long and the heat makes you drowsy. Once there in Rafidya, a suburb of Nablus city where the convent is situated, I left the bags of clothes, food and medicines with the sisters, chatted with the inmates in their care home and then celebrated Mass for them as they haven't had a priest in the city for some time. Then it was the long journey home at noon ... the sun being even more harsh. This is probably my last humanitarian run to Nablus this summer. I no longer have money to pay the transport to get and back.
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| Fruit from the fields |
City life in Nablus continues despite the spike in Covid Delta infections. Inoculation in the Palestine Territories is low and infection rates are high ... yet people don't wear masks, never keep distance and marketplace mentality dominates. It's frightening. Yesterday alone Israel recorded over 2000 new infections and talk is a possible partial lockdown. In Palestine there are no records of infections ... it's surreal ... like it doesn't exists. We'll see the consequence in the next few years.
Meantime the journey back also provided a view of life in the agricultural fields ... lots of fresh fruit and vegetables being sold along the street. And its very cheap as they're sold directly by the farmers. No middle-man, no franchise shops that take commissions. Life here is alot more simple. I saw lots of children and young people, working in car-repair shops, farming in the fields, serving in restaurants ... they will never see the sea, know what an airport is like, travel in a plane or train, so many things that we take for granted. They will die in their villages. And yet they are happy and content. Sure they'd like to enjoy all our modern amenities, but they recognize the fact that their situation is limited in opportunities, and they accept it. There's nothing much they can do when their govt doesn't do anything to better their lives and the Israeli wall surrounds them like an open air prison.
I felt sad seeing all that, feeling all that. Very sad.