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Jenin

Near the city of Jenin refugee camp is located the same name, who became famous after the clashes that saw him hold out for fourteen days to attack Israeli forces in 2002. For those who like the numbers 482 and that of the houses demolished by bull-dozzer after entering the field of Israeli forces. Today, two years later, the wounds of that time have not yet healed. The whole field is a worksite and work hard to rebuild what was destroyed to erase the memory of the atrocities to the looks and make room for a bit 'normal.

Along the streets of the camp is not difficult to meet Zakariya, a man in jeans and T-shirt, his face burned by gunpowder and a machine gun always at his side. In the sad face carved glass eyes, red from sleep not scratched.
Zakariya is the leader of the Brigades of the Martyrs of Al-Aqsa, an armed wing of Al-Fatha. This man, twenty-six, he lost all the family and of the friends he grew up with, who were killed during the fighting and after the invasion the camp by the Israeli army.

It 's a man long dead. A man who so loved life that's too much suffering has dried roots and made him disenchanted and a cool tool for the battle of his people. It 's a quiet man of few words. It just says he has nothing against Jews, and set not to accept any compromise on the freedom of his people. Stop fighting, he says, only if I am killed, or if Israel withdraws from our land according to UN resolutions that have defined the boundaries of the two states in 1947.

front of the Jenin camp and the many Zakariya here you can meet with difficulty walking into deep suffering. However for me it's a pain away, it's a pain to others, not mine. I feel the discomfort as being a layman in these places made sacred by the innocent blood that has been paid to rivers. I can not even imagine the edge of the blade that cut the meat to these people. So before the meeting just feel the need and the duty to comply with an almost religious silence, to contemplate the humanity of victims and executioners, to take over, most, for those who here has lost a part of themselves forever. A sparrow perched on a thread of light over the cemetery of those killed in Jenin, bored and indifferent, chirps.