<\/p>\n
The Israeli separation wall slopes up into blue sky. I stand in the shadow it casts, dwarfed by its manmade slap of division.<\/p>\n
My friend Yuan emerges from the makeshift gift shop clutching a handful of postcards. He is particularly pleased with the\u00a0purchase\u00a0depicting the\u00a0now iconic image of a silhouette of a young girl sailing over the partition with a handful of balloons, attributed to the political artist Banksy<\/a>.<\/p>\n We can also\u00a0buy a can of spray paint, Yuan\u00a0tells me, in case\u00a0we want to leave our\u00a0own messages\u00a0of\u00a0solidarity with the people of Palestine.<\/p>\n And evidently, many visitors\u00a0have chosen to do just that, the once grey concrete now a defiant mosaic of graffiti. Beneath the glare of military watchtowers, I adjust my camera lens, zooming in on one message scrawled between the declarations of solidarity and hope: \u201cThe whole world is watching,\u201d it reads.<\/p>\n Despite the consistent trickle of people who come to experience something of the reality of life within the territories, however, one can\u2019t help but feel that this\u00a0is probably not the case. The gaze of the international media focusing only sporadically on this increasingly tiny piece of land known as Palestine (“Palestine” depending on who you speak to, of course).<\/p>\n We are just outside Bethlehem, a place whose biblical status had already given it a special place in my imagination and later we will visit the place Christians consider the birthplace of Jesus Christ. But one does not have to look far for\u00a0evidence of the conflict that now mars the region.<\/p>\n Across the valley from this holy town, an Israeli settlement is clearly visible, large modern houses and glittering swimming pools declaring it separate from the surrounding countryside.<\/p>\n The scrubland in between is littered with barbed wire, leftover from the military appropriation of farmland so that these luxurious enclaves could exist and expand.\u00a0A warm breeze gently rustles the discarded plastic bags snagged on the discarded barbs as our guide explains his version of the region’s history.<\/p>\n He is a young Arab guy called Mohammed. We had met up with him after passing through the Bethlehem checkpoint as he, like most Palestinians, is prohibited from entering Jerusalem, which is where the tour had begun.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Mohammed\u00a0makes his political position clear from the outset: he believes a two-state solution is both desirable and possible.\u00a0Green Olive Tours<\/a>, the organization for which he works, is a small grassroots initiative which is hoping to facilitate tolerance and understanding on both sides.<\/p>\n Green Olive is a different kind of Israeli company that works very closely with its Palestinian\u00a0partners. They claim to offer an experience that is \u201cinformative and analytical, covering the history, culture, and political geography of Palestine (West Bank) and Israel” and have been acclaimed by the likes of Lonely Planet and Al Jazeera<\/a> for delivering <\/del>a unique and important experience.<\/p>\n