The magazine of the art-form of the photo-essay
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September 2013 issue
My Journey into
Palestine
by Maciej Grzybowski
At the beginning, there were only fear and excitement in equal measure. With just a short time to make a decision, I
soon found myself nervously packing, on a flight and then there we were, me and my two travel companions,
renting a car at the airport.
Tens of kilometers spent in the car, looking for a place to sleep, increased our impatience and curiosity. We drove
into a small, modest city. Children were playing football, not on a green, mown pitch, but on well-trodden rubble,
strewn amongst unfinished houses on a building site. We stopped the car. I wanted to experience the atmosphere of
this place a little better and so I got out alone. As I began trying to communicate with the kids I sensed a group of
elderly men edging closer towards me. Soon I was surrounded by friendly, curious faces and after a short
conversation we were all invited to their homes for coffee. Feeling privileged but at the same time, abashed, we
found ourselves sitting together on a small porch, drinking and sharing our cigarettes.
We changed our car for public transport, following the routes through cities and towns, large and small: Ramallah,
Jericho, Abu Dis, before arriving in Bethlehem where a chance meeting with the owner of a dairy enterprise turned
into a spontaneous yoghurt tasting session. We found the people of Palestine so open and welcoming.
Then back to the reality of home where everything was once again normal, but the euphoria of the recent trip was
still boiling inside me. A multitude of impressions: an exchange of looks, gestures, some words, longer
conversations, invitations, and handshakes. Real smiles; smiles hiding the suffering in a country where the only
constant is temporariness.
