“As we write this to you, we are still in Advent, a period of waiting and hoping and preparing, a time of expectation.” Marthame and Elizabeth Sanders write from Zababdeh, Palestine. Christmas in the Holy Land has a special meaning, but under military occupation it also means stocking up for curfew, anticipating loss, fearing for the worst. Despite the exhaustion, the fear, the uncertainty, the word from Zababdeh is Hope. And from this hope springs faith anew, reborn this Christmas season. Read more about Living into Hope: Christmas in Zababdeh, Palestine 

The Writing on the Wall is a series of interviews with Palestinians who live close to the Wall. Van Teeffelen asked three questions: How is your daily life influenced by the Wall and the checkpoints? What does freedom mean to you? What are your sources of energy? Toine van Teeffelen speaks with Terry Boullata, head of a private school in Abu Dis and an advocacy worker. “My neighborhood was turned overnight from a residential base into a military zone. Men, women, children - everybody was jumping over the wall at the low point near our house. You could always find children jumping amidst teargas and sound bombs. On a daily basis.” Read more about The Writing on the Wall: Terry Boullata 

The Huwwara checkpoint is closed to internationals. The entire Nablus region is completely off-limits. Our destination is the Balata refugee camp on the outskirts of the city, where Palestinian resistance to the Israeli occupation is said to be the strongest in the West Bank. One British journalist told me that Israeli military strategy is to keep foreigners from entering, flood the area with troops, then “turn the lights out”. We are met by a van and driver who takes us around the checkpoint then leaves us at the side of a nearby mountain road. He tells us to hurry up the trail, then drives off quickly in order to avoid being seen by Israeli forces. Read more about With the ISM in Balata refugee camp 

The Writing on the Wall is a series of interviews with Palestinians who live close to the Wall. Van Teeffelen asked three questions: How is your daily life influenced by the Wall and the checkpoints? What does freedom mean to you? What are your sources of energy? Toine van Teeffelen speaks with Jizelle Salman from Beit Jala, an English language teacher and youth coordinator at the Arab Educational Institute in Bethlehem. “I need to take a detour to get to my house. I used to take a road which has now become an Israeli checkpoint and military camp. We’ve heard last year that the land on the hill above my house, which we cultivated for many years, will be expropriated in order to build the Wall and next to it a military road. This was of course most difficult news for us.” Read more about The Writing on the Wall: Jizelle Salman 

Although the house is still standing, the engineers have declared it was too fragile and dangerous, as its foundation has severely been damaged in the explosion by the Israeli army last week.  Impact of the bombs left its fatal marks everywhere; cracks run through every surface, windows and doorframes are blown out, walls are crumbling. As people continue to empty the house for the second and final demolition, this time by workers of UNRWA, Shirabe Yamada spent countless days and nights for the last five years since she has become a close friend of the Hammash family —- rolling stuffed grape leaves with the mother and daughers, conversations on the rooftop over mint tea, laughers and tears. Read more about Miyasar's fear: The Aftermath 

With thumb held high and a broad smile, the school bus driver welcomes Tamer who proudly carries his little schoolbag on his back. He takes the seat right behind the driver so as to be able to peep over his shoulder towards the road. Watching this is one of those little rituals every day which keep Mary and me in a better mood than the situation otherwise would allow. Wearing her chequered school uniform, Jara too takes the school bus but unlike Tamer she is not always in her best mood. Her bag is stuffed with books and she curves her back to carry the burden. Read more about A schoolbag named desire 

1 December 2004 — At a quarter to four this morning the Hamash family building was demolished with explosives by the Israeli Army. At least 12 Israeli military jeeps invaded Dheisheh refugee camp and surrounded the families’ homes, as well as Ibdaa Cultural Center’s kindergarten, which shares the same building. The Army ordered Musa Hamash, Aziz Hamash, Ahmed Hamash, and their families outside into the damp and chilly morning air. They were given 30 minutes to remove as many of their belongings as possible before the bombing. Read more about Israel teaches Dheisheh's children a lesson they will not forget 

“My son was shot by them on a day like today,” says Georgette, “the bullet passed straight through his chest but he’s alright now, thank God.” She leans frailly on the fence that separates our gardens in Ramallah. “Best you not go out just yet, if you need anything just ask.” The Israeli Defence Force are in town again. They’ve been here all night arresting men suspected of involvement with armed resistance groups. They bang on doors and pull young Palestinians into the back of waiting jeeps. They come and go as they please. Read more about Lives torn apart in Ramallah 

The other day a group of American university students visited Bethlehem University in Bethlehem of the nativity fame in the Palestinian Territories. They discussed with their Palestinian peer a number of issues, including mutual perceptions or misperceptions, the stand of the American Administrations on the Arab-Israeli conflict, the situation in Iraq and the upcoming presidential elections in Palestine. After the formal discussions were over, the American and Palestinian students intermingled, exchanged e-mail addresses and promised to keep on with their discussions. Read more about An American Visit to Bethlehem 

On Sunday, November 21 at 7:15AM, bulldozers and armed security guards arrived at the home of Al-Helou family in Jerusalem to announce that their land will be confiscated for the expansion of the university dormitories. The Al-Helou family is among seven families whose houses are trapped among the university dormitory buildings. They have lived in this area, called Ard Al-Samar, since 1948 when they were forced out of the Jerusalem village of Lifta. The dormitory buildings have been closing in on the families, who are now confined in small pockets of land surrounded by the fences. Shirabe Yamada witnessed the destruction. Read more about Photostory: Hebrew University to displace Palestinian families