After spending 5 weeks there this summer, I understand why.
Arriving from Ramallah (on the fastest taxi/service ride I have ever experienced) the first thing you see on arriving in Nablus is its most famous checkpoint: Huwara.
Huwara, its people and its colour. Yellow.
Once in a service (cheaper taxis that take people from one set stop to another, most of them old Mercedes) it takes only 5 mins to reach Nablus' vibrant city centre.
And then, something else hits you and you start to realise that Nablus is like no other place in the West Bank.
This is the best example I've seen so far of controlled chaos.
People seem to live here. Everyone I meet is smiling, laughing, inviting me to their homes for tea, asking me about my country. Everyone seems so happy to see me here. Everyone. After a few days in the city, I realise that this is only the outside. Inside everything is a lot darker. Nablus reminds me of a clown. Smiling to hide its suffering.
Everyone is happy to see a foreigner, an international, because not many come to Nablus. Walking around the city you quickly realise that there is no tourism here. Only a few NGOs operate here bringing internationals (a nationality in itself in Nablus. Anyone coming from Europe, the U.S.A, Scandinavia... is called an international) into Nablus. In the U.K the Foreign and Commonwealth Office strongly advise AGAINST travel to Nablus. But why? This is a stunning city full of amazing people. I struggle to understand.
People want to know my story and I want to know theirs. They want to understand why the world has forgotten them and I want to understand what has happened to them. They want to “take off their veil”, allow me in. I cannot refuse and decide to film them. For them to talk and the world to listen. To give them a platform to express themselves.
After a few interviews, it rapidly becomes obvious to me that everyone has a story here.
Hakim tells me that everytime he hears the Israeli Army during the night, he wakes up, gets dressed and sits quietly on his sofa waiting for them. Not because he's guilty of anything. Except maybe of being Palestinian. No one is safe in Nablus during the night. The situation is extraordinary. Nablus was one of the first cities to welcome a Palestinian police force a few months ago (around November 07) but this police force only acts from 6am till midnight. From midnight onwards the Israeli army takes over. Every night the Israeli army enters the city and its refugee camps (Balata, Askar, El Ayn) and, with the help of loudspeakers, sound bombs and weapons, arrest Palestinians, quite often ransacking their house, beating them and their families, and sometimes killing them. The Israeli army has “carte blanche” here. Even during the day. A police officer told me that the Israelis sometimes call them during the day to tell them that they'll be down (the army base overlooks the city, on top of a mountain) in a few mins. They clear the place on the spot to let the Army do “its job”. It is as simple as that.
Hassan tells me that one day he was arrested while going through Huwara checkpoint. He spent 11 months in jail. To this day no one has told him why. The only thing he knows is that it was administrative detention. In every story you hear, jail comes up. For a male citizen of Nablus, jail is pretty much compulsory. Nearly half of Nablus's male residents have gone past the Jail square. However this is no board game, and these men are not just visiting, some of them are incarcerated for months at a time without knowing why they were arrested in the first place or when they'll be released.