My Imaginary Diary

by Niv Hachlili

My Imaginary Travels to Wallland 1.

Nine meters down, don't look, you might fall.

Don't you look down Niv,

It's mighty high.

Don't say a word, Finish your food.

If you don't, the army will come and Take you away.

It's freedom behind those walls.

Freedom calls us,

As wind does.

The sun rises,

And clichés have No real meaning.

We can laugh there on what has been done.

The skyline awaits us on the right side.

On what side did you wake up this morning?

Latitude is gone now,

But poverty is our line.

Nine meters high.

Don't you fall, you hear? 

You might just land.

Imaginary wall 1.

Imaginary wall 2.

Imaginary man and wall

Imaginary travels to Blood-land

• We went out in the morning,

Not knowing what the night has brought.

• We did not listen to the news.

• Drove peacefully to another photoday on the bank.

• But peace was far away from us.

• Something is wrong, I thought out loud.

• The eastern streets were deserted,

• No one on his way to work.

• David made a phone call that cleared things up.

• "We must turn back" he said,

"Sheikh Ahmed Yassin was assassinated".

• I turned the car around and took some

Empty Street photos, while driving.

• David said, "You should get a radio".

• We drove quietly, tension was in the air.

• Suddenly, people appeared on the hills.

• Hundreds of people, walking, calling.

• "Don't stop to photograph" he said, "Please".

• I didn't even think of stopping.

• Stones and rocks, rocks and stones,

Ancient weapons still in use.

• I pressed the gas paddle to its end,

Flying us towards the tear gas clouds.

• "shit" I said,

• "shit" David said in his mother tongue.

• "Faster!" he cried and whipped my car

As it was a horse race.

• The checkpoint was close.

• On it's other side Imaginary quiet-land.

• The army jeeps came down,

Roaring governing, Ruling.

• Imaginary Blood-land takes its toll.

• The cries were everywhere,

Tear gas, Plastic covered bullets,

Grenades, sticks, Rocks, bottles.

• We kept going, heads down,

No tricks, no magic.

• Let us be safe on the other side.

• Let us be safe on the other side.

• We are on the safe side.

• Take a breath, "Were you afraid?"

• "I still am" I say.

• Behind us the clash is on.

• Now you can keep your head down

And steal some stills,

Dirty, bloody, painful photos.

• People pay good money for Middle Eastern pain.

*

• That night my mother said –

• "Enough is enough, promise me,

No more West Bank this week!

You must think of us too"

• I promised her.

• After all

It makes you sick.

Niv’s imagination

Imaginary empty street

Imaginary soldier

Imaginary stones

Imaginary Private Thoughts

• It is sad that things happen,

It is sad when they don't.

• They just leave us here,

Waiting.

• The smell of fear around us.

• And I can feel myself pity the ones,

Who are and will be hurt.

• Like I'm not a part of it,

This existing reality.

• I only have my own,

Imaginary world left,

Now, knowing now.

• Watching with compassion,

As the wrestle goes on.

• Who will be on his knees next?

• Who will cry tonight?

• Who will curse the world with pain?

• They have decided,

Devouring us all.

• Giving us death,

Wrapped as a necessity.

• Instead of admitting,

They diminish life.

• They despise life.

• They thrive on our blood.

• As if they have shares.

• In death's stock market.

Imaginary exploded bus at the wall

• The imaginary traveler goes to photograph

• A special musical show in Al-Hakawati theatre

In east Jerusalem.

• Night before the Israeli- Palestinian land day,

The place is full, packed with young people.

• The show is Beautiful,

The band plays amazing.

Imaginary Music part2

• Even though it's not he's language,

The imaginary traveler is touched.

• At the end of the show the crowd goes wild,

Sings together,

Words he can't understand float in the air.

• On stage, Ten Palestinian players and one Jew,

Their music takes the traveler Far away,

Makes him drift to dream world,

Forget where he is at.

• When the show is over, he walks the

Empty streets, enjoying the warm weather night,

Talking to he's companions.

• A police car appears from the dark,

Stops right next to them,

"What are you doing here ?“

• The imaginary traveler is being asked.

• "Walking" he answers peacefully.

• "What are you doing here?“

• Repeats the border police soldier,

"Walking" insists the traveler.

• "This is not legitimate." Cries the soldier,

The imaginary traveler is surprised,

He's imaginary tour book doesn't say such a thing.

• "Not legitimate?" he asks angrily,

"Not legitimate to travel peacefully,

Minding my own business, in the street?“

• "Not in these streets" answers the young soldier.

• "Really? And what streets are those?“

• Wonders while raising he's voice,

The long time, tired, traveler.

• "He didn't mean it like that…" hurries

The older cop in the car, to explain,

"He meant it's not ordinary…".

"Oh, if that's what you mean, then good night“

Say's the traveler and walks away.

• "We don't need to worry about you ?",

Calls, asks the older cop.

• "No, no need to worry at all" .

Imaginary singer

Imagining singer

Imagining the kanoon

The crowd goes wild

Imaginary Travels to South Hebron Hills1

• I have so much I want to say about my Imaginary Travels to

The south Hebron hills, but I Just can't find my words

To describe this terrible beautiful anguished place.

• I can only pick up fractures of reality I've been a part of.

• It's a beginning of a long journey.

**

• Yusuf can't speak my language and I can't speak his,

But he insists explaining everything to me

As we run from one hill to another,

From a dark cave to a darker one,

Wakes up the sleeping ones, gathers families,

Insisting I'll see them all,

And I understand there are big issues at stake.

• The kids see me and burst into tears,

"Settlers !" they call and can't calm down,

"I'm a friend" I explain in their language

But they are stroked with fear,

Running to hide behind their mothers.

• Every cave I go into, the kids panic.

• We hurry to leave and carry on,

To disturb the next family at it's turn.

**• Billal says to me, "Maybe I can't read and write, but

I know how to plant and to plough, to grow, to harvest,

To build my house, and feed my kids.

• How to slaughter a sheep, how to make good

Bread. How to live my land without hurting or killing it.

• So what does it help if People on the settlement,

Above us, learned all those fancy things I didn't?

• All they want is to drive us away from here by violence.

• I don't need to be educated to know this is wrong.

My home has always been here,

Just like yours, we have no where else to go.“

**• 15 minutes of walk,

Down the hill,

Stands the imaginary deserted Army base.

• Two weeks ago the villagers woke up,

To discover it vanished into air,

Like it has never ever been there.

• I walk down to see what is left,

Meeting old acquaintances of mine,

Brown training targets forgotten behind,

Stuck on barbed wires,

Cardboard soldiers aiming their

Cardboard guns at me,

Scary souvenirs in this primeval land

Of strong winds and hazy brand.

Imaginary old friend

Jimba kids

Jimba kids

Jimba kids

Susia

Yusuf

Imaginary Sailing in South Hebron

• We sit at the headmaster's room

In the elementary school of tuwana,

South Hebron,

Every sentence contains words like

Wall, settlers, Fence, Borders, Gates, violence,

It's crawling sneaking down to the

Wild wild south,

Cutting, chopping, disintegrating.

• I leave the grownups talk

And run out to play with the kids.

• To feel the holiday sun on my face,

To drive away those worries

Those fears.

• Now we are all brave pirates

On a red flagged ship,

We fight the imaginary waves,

Scream with joy,

Getting wet by the fantastic water,

It's a warm day.

• The kids carry me along the hills with them

Sailing on a cloud of dreams

And childhood bliss is in the air.

Imaginary sailing

Imaginary sailing

Imaginary sailing

Sailing

Sailing

Sailing

Sailing

Sailing

Imaginary Families of the World

• While I was looking at the pictures I took

Of the family who hosted us in

The village of twuana

A close, familiar, warm feeling

Sneaked into the heart.

• I knew I've seen those photos before,

They have been hiding somewhere

In the back of my mind.

• It was my father's pictures of us,

The kids,

Many years ago.

• We stood, sat, stared,

Looked at the camera,

Just the same,

In this beautiful naïve way kids look

At life.

• Those pictures are family pictures.

• All families, all over.

• That's what the kid from my

Dad's photos Insists on telling me.

• And I whish (So hard) he would be right.

Family photos

Family photos

Family photos

Family photos

Family photos

Family photos

Imaginary Travels into the Wind

• It's too early in the morning

Philip leads the way with his foreign car

I drive slowly behind him,

We pass by the soldiers,

Ashraf keeps filming,

They look at us,

"Don't stop" I say to him,

"Don't you stop either" he answers back.

• The soldier's signal - keep going.

Philip maneuvers on the dirt roads

I make an effort not to stay too far behind

And my old car complains,

She has a hard time carrying us to all

Those neglected places.

• On top of the hill the view

Is breath taking,

The wind breaks our words

And I feel I can stay here for ever,

Under us, the security fence is cutting

The valley,

Philip says, "They have rooted out olive trees,

2000 years old.“

• And now we are rooting out people.

**• On the way back we stop in the village

And I have a chance to photograph

The kids playing,

One of the neighbors comes out and says to me

"Look at the kids, how much love in them,

You have taken almost everything from us,

So all we have left to give to our kids is love,

All The love in the world and more,

Know that,

Remember that,

Every time a kid is being killed

A part of all love dies with him

On your side and on ours,

We loose love bit by bit."

Kidslove

Kidslove

Snakefence

Imaginary Travels into the Fields

• We blow the balloons together,

The girls like the yellow ones,

The boys like the blue,

The internationals brought them,

I brought small plastic animals,

But none of the kids is interested,

In my present,

Everybody wants balloons,

And they all get one,

Later we can watch them fly into

The cloudy skies,

And accompany them with our calls of joy.

**• No poems about the settlers

That burnet down

Last night

All of the wheat

That was harvested

In the fields

Of Twanah,

No poems.

Jimba kids

Jimba kids

Jimba kids

Jimba kids

Imaginary Free Falling

• I see the kid fall and start running

Somebody calls from behind

"Stay back ! they are shooting, stay back !“

• I almost reach the kid

When I feel a sudden pain in my shoulder

That throws me to the ground

My camera hits the rocks

My glasses fly away

My hands move blindly

Searching for an eyesight

White smoke covers me from above

I curse and bundle up

The pain gets stronger

One of them aimed for me

One of us, me, mine, did it

My fingers touch the rubber covered bullet

Laying next to me

I crawl behind a rock and wait

For it all to be over.

**• Since the imaginary traveler has

Started his journey

The nights has changed for him

He does not find comfort in the sleep

When he closes his eyes all he sees

Are seas of struggles

Hundreds of people walk through his imagination

And others are trying to stop them

By beating and kicking

Streams of sweat curve their way to his pillow

Trying to penetrate the concrete walls of his dreams

New rules and laws are established

At night

Sleeping with eyes half open

Jumping at any little noise

Keeping the light on

Closing all the windows

Locking all the doors

Checking that's nothing has changed

Every two or three hours

The imaginary traveler is tired

And frightened

And desperate

They have done a good job on him.

Imaginary grabbing

Imaginary waiting

Imagination too close

Imaginary travels into violence

• What words can describe the violence

That has taken over our life here ?

• I meet Yaron and Tali, and Tali says

"It's so strange that people like us,

Who are against any kind of violence,

Experience the highest levels of it almost daily.“

 **• Jonathan says "Slow down,

Those guys are crazy, they will

Shoot us without thinking.“

• I stop the car and look at the

Security guards that are aiming their

Weapons at us, I open the window and

Wave my hand, screaming "Journalists",

I drive very slowly on the dirt road,

The bulldozers are creating huge dust clouds.

 **• An imaginary manual for the

Imaginary street protestor –

# Try to stay in the narrow alleys,

They can't chase you with the horses,

And it's harder to shoot you down.

• # For the same reason, stay away from

Open fields (they will catch you or shoot

You in no time)

# Try to keep a safe distance from the

Foreign press people, they want to be where

The action is, and they are easy to spot with

Their helmets and bullet proof vests.

• The soldiers won't aim at them, but they will

Shoot anybody that is around and

Not wearing a big helmet that says

"TV" or "Press" on it.

• # Always watch the roof tops, for two reasons,

The first one is the snipers,

The second one is the roof kids,

• They will signal you where the soldiers are.

# If somebody pushes you, fall.

• He probably has a good reason for doing that,

Like, trying to save your life.

• # And when you are on the ground, protect your head

The horses might be coming.

• # if there is no laundry outside, know, this is

A tear gas disaster area.

• # When you hear the whistles don’t hesitate,

Duck, the bullets are here.

• # If it's the boarder police, god help you.

**• The bullet passes five centimeters from

Jonathan's face and I'm pulling him back.

• "He was aiming for me" he shouts in disbelief

And I bent behind the garden wall and take

A deep breath, "Let's move" I say,

"The soldiers will be coming down and we will

Be caught in the middle.“

• "I was so close to getting my head blown off“

Jonathan replies in surprise.

 **• I can hear my heart beat,

We run in the alleys, watching

The roofs, the kids direct us to

The action,

Boarder police soldiers closed on two kids,

I get close and the commander

Screams "don't beat them, the media is here.“

 **• The guy is lying on the ground,

I think he's dead, but Terry says that

He moved.

The medics carry him on their hands.

• His family is coming out of the house yelling

And crying, the women try to hit the soldiers,

The soldiers use their sticks,

I photograph and get a stick in my face.

 **• Imaginary Travels into Violence

And on the weekend, south Hebron hills, the harvest is on.

• Violence for breakfast and for launch,

Fear grows in the fields,

Kills all crops, all hopes.

 **• A small riddle for the imaginary audience –

Will an attacking settler be arrested on a Friday?

• (Or on any other given day, for that reason…)

**• Can the last person turn off the light please?

Caught

Caught

Chasing

Chasing

Here we go again

Here we go again

Press

Shooting

Here we go again

They shot my brother

You shot my brother

Imaginary Travels into Silence

• Musa is calling from the top of the hill,

"Niv ! they are coming at you, run away!“

• I start running, the ground is slippery and

I twist my leg and fall.

• Musa is hurrying my way,

"Get up, please“

He screams with fear,

It's just the two of us,

And musa is not even ten,

But he's ten times smarter then me,

I pick myself up and check my mobile,

There is no reception.

**• They look big,

Guns are hanging from their shoulders,

They don't seem to be in a hurry,

Knowing they control the hills.

• I tell musa to run to his family tent,

But he insists on staying with me,

"I very strong“

He says in Hebrew and holds my arm,

"I don't leave you",

I hide the camera in my back pack,

No need for another one to be smashed.

**• I don't know where the others are,

We are too far away from the tents,

Now I have to stand and look them

In the eyes,

Not to show them I'm terrified.

• Musa smiles at me,

His smile means "What can they do?“

• But I know what they are capable of,

And so does Musa.

• The harvest day is over.

Harvesting

Harvesting

Harvesting

Harvesting

The kids

The kids

The kids

The kids

The kids

An Imaginary Meeting with Past Life me

• "I used to be you“

I say to the young soldier that stands

In front of my face.

• They don't allow the car to move,

We get out and start walking,

"I'm talking to you !“

• Spits the soldier,

"I've fucking told you this is

A closed army area !"

• "Do you have a warrant to show us ?“

• "I don't need to show you anything,

I just told you.“

• We keep on walking.

• One of the soldiers jumps and tries to

Physically stop us,

Hands fly in the air and feasts are

Being raised,

"No fighting" I say

While he pushes,

"Understand, you can't stop us,

We are going to the field to harvest.“

• He looks at me,

He's face almost touch mine

"I used to be you“

I tell him again and nod my head,

He takes a step back and lets us through.

Fighting

Fighting

Jeep

Soldiers

Imaginary Albums

• Tomorrow night I will exhibit two albums

In "Haara" art event that takes place

At Nahlaot neighborhood, Jerusalem.

• One album is a journey into the past

Through the present, the second is

My journeys with the future generation,

Both Albums are linked by childhood

Hopes and shattered dreams.

**

• While I write, the counter is on.

11 soldiers and 15 Palestinians

Have died in Gaza in the last 24 hours,

A new start ?

• A never ending story.

**• Two years ago, on a Friday afternoon

A suicide bomber exploded in the Jerusalem

Market, Danya and I were there.

• After we got home, I became very sick

And tried to drive away

The smell of burning flesh, the bloody

Sights, with a long shower and sleep.

• After I finally fell asleep,

I had a dream,

I was in my Elementary school,

I was running the empty corridors,

Trying to get out,

Wanting to hide under the old white

Strawberry tree in the yard,

Sounds of explosions were everywhere

And when I finally found my way to the tree,

And climbed on him,

I reached my hand to the strawberries

But they were all filled with worms.

**

• This dream keeps on repeating,

Coming back to visit me,

It changes itself from time to time,

But the running through the maze

Of the school corridors and the upcoming

Disappointment is always there.

**• This Passover holiday I decided to go

On a double journey,

And that’s how the albums were created.

• One journey I shared with you, taking

Over 150 portraits of kids, Israelis and Palestinians,

I tried to gather their whishes and thoughts,

To collect them into a one messy chaotic big

Shared experience.

• The second journey was into my childhood

Memories that became nightmares.

**• My elementary school was in an old

Building that was build in 1899,

Today it stands deserted like a big

White whale in the middle of the city,

Behind the bubbling market,

The gates are locked and fences have been

Placed around it, Dead zone.

**• Until Passover, I didn’t visit him in

More then 15 years, except in my dreams,

So I decided it's time to go.

**• Someone told me the strawberry tree was

Chopped down,

Another said the school inhabits

Drug addicts and it's a dangerous place.

• Third thought it's a waste of time

"Chasing the past" and suggested

I would "Get a life".

**• The first thing I checked when I got into

The other side of the fence was the tree.

• He was there, big as I remembered him,

Blooming and healthy, breaking the

Asphalt around him, surviving.

**• I found a way into the building

And the second I got in I met

Vadim.

• Later I got to meet Gregory,

And Dimitri, and bosh

And others with no names.

• All alcoholics, some drug addicts,

Many lost without hope. 

• We reached an agreement,

I am welcomed to stay

As long as I don't take photos

Of them.

**• I spent three days strolling the building,

Took more then 500 photos,

Inside and out,

All of that time the strange feeling

Of taking part in my own weird dream

Didn't leave me.

**• Rooms filled with excrement,

Mountains of garbage all over,

Stench of urine and sweat,

Broken windows,

Frozen nights,

Terrified sad people.

**• Sometimes Vadim walks with me

Like a shadow,

"And what was that class for ?“

• He asks again

"This was carpenters class.“

• "Really ? No way !“

• He laughs and looks at the

Green painted walls.

**• At the third day I'm there one of the "Locals“

Falls asleep with a cigarette and almost

Burns himself to death.

**• Vadim and I sit on the strawberry tree

Before I leave,

It has fruit although it's not the season yet.

• There are no worms.

• I ask Vadim,

"Will I find you here if I'll come to visit?“

• And he answers,

"You might, but I can't promise I'll

Remember you, where we are,

Or even who the hell I am."

Vadim can’t remember

Class

Corridor

Drying

Outside

School

School yard

Shoes

Smile