Highlights
Sixteen people crowded round Um Has- san's table that evening to eat the huge meal that she had spent the day preparing. Lamia had joined aunts and cousins in the kitchen. They had stuffed courgettes and aubergines with a spicy lamb filling, chopped vegeta- bles, rolled meatballs, roasted chickens, stirred sauces, boiled mountains of rice and sprinkled fistfuls of garden herbs. The steaming bowls and laden platters of delicious food that jostled for space on the flowery plastic tablecloth would normally have brought Karim hurrying to sit down, eager to start. Tonight, though, he hung back. He'd been miserable all afternoon, ever since they'd come back from the olive terraces.
"This Occupation started when I was ten years old. Every year you think to yourself, It can't get any worse. And then it does. It does. Much worse. I tell you, the Israelis won't be happy until they've driven us all out and grabbed every metre of Palestine for themselves.
The light was going now, the sun sinking fast towards the horizon. The white stone walls of Ramallah were turning a pale yellow. Soon they would be golden, then pink. In more normal times, the smell of frying onions would be wafting from open windows and music would drift across the town from a dozen radios. Tonight, though, the return of darkness would bring only the soldiers and the tanks, the occasional burst of gun- fire and the wail of sirens.
"They can stop you coming to school, his teacher had said, before the curfew had been imposed, 'but don't let them stop you learning. Work at home. Your future is Palestine's. Your country needs you. Don't forget it.'"
And yet, in the middle of all the chaos, young people's lives continue. They worry about how they look, whether or not their friends like them, and hope they'll pass their exams. They argue with their parents and siblings, and play computer games whenever they get the chance. But all the time the future, with its dangers, uncertainties and diminished opportunities, hangs over them like a lowering cloud.