Yanoun to Ramallah

I get the school shuttle to Aqraba to head South. In Lower Yanoun it picks up the children that are too old to go to the school in Upper Yanoun and takes them to Aqraba with the older children from Upper Yanoun. The girl that invited us to her house and then guided us to her father, in the mountain, is among them. Only today she looks a lot older, with her uniform, her shoes and her head covered, unlike that afternoon, when she was wearing sandals and trousers and there was nothing hiding her long plaits.

Yanoun IV. On my own

When the villagers decided to leave Yanoun after the terror campaign carried out by the local settlers, they were then “convinced” to come back to live here. They agreed, only on the condition that at least two or three internationals would be here at all times. The organisation called CCPT took on the commitment of keeping at least three people here at all times.

Yanoun III. Not enough of us

J. and I stay in Yanoun. He does not fancy school so I go on my own. The relationship between me and the teachers, all men, without a man that accompanies me is completely different. The teachers say hello briefly to me and avoid me as much a possible, so I go home for some lunch during the break.

Yanoun II. School

J. and Z. stay at home while L. and I go to school at nine o’clock in the morning. L. was wrong about the nine o’clock lesson and I attend one on Arabic. This is the eldest children’s classroom; next year; the eldest will have to travel to Aqraba daily to attend secondary school. I copy in my notebook what the teacher writes on the blackboard.

Yanoun I

As M. drives us to the nearest town, he tells us about the latest incident that happened in the village where we are going. A settler injured a Palestinian farmer and he is luckily alive, recovering in hospital.