Stories from my trip to Palestine...
There are 2 deaf mute brothers in Hebron. They work in the family pottery. Both are regularly beaten up because they can't hear instructions yelled by the IDF.
One of the brother is married and has 3 children, one of whom has down syndrome. They live in a small house beside his father's house. He owns an old Cortina. Maybe worth $2,000. The IDF stole the car from him at a checkpoint, knowing he was deaf mute and couldn't protest.
He's telling me the story using sign language which is translated to English for me. He has the photo album out and showing me pictures of the car and his family adventures. Then he starts to cry. No need to translate this from sign language.
What was just an old car was his means of communicating love to his family. He can't say, "I love you" but he can express that in his actions. And his actions were his pride in being willing to drive any member of his family any where they wanted to go, for any reason at anytime.
The didn't just steal his car, they stole his ability to show love to the family. And he was heartbroken by it.
That was one of the stories I'd hoped to go back and shoot.
In 3 months I didn't met a single Palestinian that didn't have a story about the occupation that was not as or more tragic than this.
And the stories would inevitably end in the same question. "Why do they hate us so much?" They had the question but they didn't even claim to know the answer.