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PhotoStories
ALL IMAGES © DAVID CL APP
M
agic rarely happens when you
are comfortable. In fact it often
happens when you are feeling
the least comfortable. To
paraphrase Nick Cave, a creative idea is like a tiny
fl ame that you cup your hands around, praying
it will not be extinguished by all the storms that
howl around it. If you can hold onto it, life-
changing things can be constructed around it.
Christmas in the Middle East was one of
those fl ames. My plan was to fl y to Amman,
spending time between the deserts, Petra and
Wadi Rum, but the next thing I know I am on a
bus headed across the Jordanian border into
Israel with my wife Rachel and guide Bashar.
I’ve heard about the confl icts in this troubled
land all of my life, with little understanding of
the past. Once again, it took a camera to
unlock the door to a learning experience
that’s lasted far longer than the trip itself.
Bashar had booked us to stay in the north of
Jerusalem with TJ, a tall German powerhouse
who works in Shuafat, a Palestinian refugee
camp. We talked about the plan on the dusty bus
journey past Jericho and into Jerusalem and in
detail at his fl at on Christmas Eve. I was nervous.
I had no idea how I’d be perceived; perhaps as
a reporter, or at worst a potential threat? All
manner of scenarios played out in my mind.
It’s Christmas day, 7am. Crammed into TJ’s
VW Polo, we arrived at the Shuafat Palestinian
Child Centre where TJ introduces us to Adam,
an 18-year-old local boy and his brother, who
will show us around. Lesson number one - the
phrase ‘refugee camp’ does not mean a dusty
fi eld full of tents and temporary dwellings. In fact
Shuafat is the opposite of my preconception.
There are streets, concrete buildings, roads,
electricity, water pipes – this is a town and more
importantly, this is home. We are cautious and
respectful. We’re also being stared at. I feel more
comfortable as I take my fi rst shots. I had left the
loaned EOS R and EF lenses in the car, choosing
my smaller EOS M3 system for discretion.
Adam explains the troubles, the diffi culties
that Shuafat undergoes on a daily basis, as I
document the backstreets. We meet children
that ignite us – all they want to do is play and
have fun. Everything is normal. I tell TJ that this
feels safe and he said it was because of Adam
- without him this would be impossible. He
explained how at the age of 16, Adam was
imprisoned by the Israeli army for a year, that
most houses around us held automatic weapons.
We moved north, following the West Bank
Wall. A strange rusted door is actually a portal
for army raids, a pile of tires ready to be set
alight on our side. I photograph slogans sprayed
on the concrete, but I was about to see an
incredible change upon reaching Bethlehem.To Bethlehem
Bethlehem is full of pilgrims, from every country.
TJ stopped at a garage forecourt and to our
astonishment there was a 12-foot-high Banksy,
a famous piece depicting a militant throwing a
bunch of fl owers. Then another, the dove of
peace with bullet proof vest caught in sniper
crosshairs. We were at the base of the Wall
again, adorned with political graffi ti and
overlooked by oppressive military watchtowers.
As the light began to fade, the EOS R’s lowlight
potential came into its own. I photographed the
towers, the wall, the political statements and
graffi ti, heading north to the ‘Walled Off Hotel’,
another work of Banksy’s parody imagination.
It was in the Museum that I got to understand
the Palestinian side of the confl ict. In the bar,
the automated piano playing Massive Attack
tunes, the wall-space fi lled with oddities, ’trophy
hunted’ surveillance cameras and oil paintings
of refugee shipwrecks added a humorous twist
to a statement of oppressive history.
Outside, the spray-painted eight-metre-high
wall continues upwards to an astonishing moment
at Anastas House, a residence surrounded on
three sides by the surveillance wall. While
shooting, we met Johnny Anastas who told us
the story, how he now lives, how his family had
fl ed and how he cannot step onto his rooftop
without fear of being shot.Refl ections
On the way back into Jerusalem, a thick fog had
descended, but I had never seen things more
clearly. Again the camera had opened the door
to an adventure I had never imagined I would
photograph. Without Bashar’s language skills
and TJ’s guidance, this unique photographic
experience would have been impossible. On
Christmas night, we partied well into the early
hours, fl oating on an experience that called
us onwards into the deserts and beyond.
An important connection has been made.A c o n fl i c t
of interest
David Clapp talks about everyday life
and documentary photography in Jerusalem
and Bethlehem on Christmas Day
Anastas House,
Bethlehem. Imagine
your house surrounded
by concrete and
barbed wire