Clowning Around in Israel

You had to see it to believe it: Hunter "Patch" Adams,
MD, fully decked out in his clown outfit, and a retired Israeli
military general standing together in an enormous pair of red silk
underwear. Patch calls it his "underwear security," a play upon
"undercover security." It's an ingenious device which encourages
egotistical disarmament. You can't climb into Patch's underwear if you
are overly-defended.

"Being part of the fun" wasn't a thought that occurred to me when I signed up for the CodePink humanitarian delegation
to the Gaza Strip. Since our particular delegation was to enter Gaza by
way of Israel, I suspected our chances of getting in were slim. Indeed
we were denied permission and entry on three separate occasions. I
had recently seen the pictures of Gaza taken by two previous CodePink
delegations who had entered through Egypt. These pictures showed the
massive destruction of homes, schools, ambulances, hospitals and
factories. They also showed horrific human injury and death, not to
mention the rotting carcasses of livestock and animals. So, what came
to mind when I thought of Gaza was "death, destruction, starvation,
crisis, etc."

It was Nasser Ibrahim, the Director of the Palestinian-Israeli Alternative Information Center
in Beit Sahour (West Bank) who provided a way for me to see the
necessity of the work of clowning, with its love of joy and of fun, in
the context of a disaster. According to Ibrahim, political resistance
is an "effort to hold on to your humanity. It is the work of being
human."

Ibrahim's insight certainly came to life during our
three attempted crossings into Gaza. During our first attempt, we were
joined by "Kassamba," an Israeli anarchist band whose name roughly
translates into "sound rockets," and a troupe of clowns. Kassamba,
Patch and the Israeli clowns had all of us dancing, laughing and
smiling in an area that was filled with miles of fences, guard towers,
military vehicles and M-16's. When our passports were returned to us
and our entry denied, Patch took the passports and started a game of
poker with them just underneath the checkpoint booth, a move that had
the Israeli guards looking on in amazement and amusement. When Patch
reached out his hand to one of the guards, the guard reached back and
clasped Patch's hand with a strong grip. In this case, the hand that
clasped the other had to first release his hand from a gun. "Score,
humanity!" at least for this moment.

Our second and third efforts to cross were enriched by
balloons, kites and flowers as well as by a three-hundred person strong
demonstration by Gazans just across the crossing from us. Our kites and
balloons embodied our soaring spirits and the desire to connect with
the people of Gaza. Our flowers were placed in the fence of the Erez
crossing along with handwritten notes. Prior to placing our notes in
the fence, we were able to speak with a few of the Gazans who had made
it through the crossing and who were on their way to the hospital. Be
they elderly women or small children held by their mothers, the pallor
of sickness was quite evident, particularly in the sweltering heat of
the day. Most were suffering from heart ailments and were in need of
serious medical attention. In order to get out of Gaza, where medical
supplies are in short shrift and hospitals are barely functioning, they
had to wade through an onerous bureaucratic permit process only to
wait--if they were among the fortunate few--for hours before being
allowed out. The festive atmosphere we had created in this desolate and
inhuman space brought forth smiles and hugs from our Gazan friends.
"Score, humanity! Once again."

Though the gates to Gaza were not opened for us, the
gates around my heart were opened. Far from being dispirited, I know
that the roots of my peacemaking practice are stronger and more deeply
rooted than ever before. Once again the words of Nasser Ibrahim came to
mind: "Never give up!" I will not give up; I have only just begun.