When I turned 19, I started my career as the first female photojournalist in the Gaza Strip, Palestine. My work as a woman photographer was considered a serious insult to local traditions, and created a lasting stigma for me and my family. The male-dominated field made my presence unwelcome by all possible means. They made clear that a woman must not do a man's job. Photo agencies in Gaza refused to train me because of my gender. The "No" sign was pretty clear.
Ko sem dopolnila 19 let, sem začela s kariero prve ženske fotoreporterke na območju Gaze, v Palestini. Moje delo ženske fotografinje je bilo razumljeno kot resna žalitev lokalnih tradicij in je ustvarilo trajno stigmo zame in za mojo družino. Na področju, ki mu vladajo moški, sem bila na vse mogoče načine nezaželena. Jasno so mi pokazali, da ženska ne sme opravljati moškega dela. Fotografske agencije v Gazi me zaradi mojega spola niso želele usposabljati. Znak "Ne" je bil precej jasen.
Three of my colleagues went as far as to drive me to an open air strike area where the explosion sounds were the only thing I could hear. Dust was flying in the air, and the ground was shaking like a swing beneath me. I only realized we weren't there to document the event when the three of them got back into the armored Jeep and drove away, waving and laughing, leaving me behind in the open air strike zone.
Trije moji kolegi so šli celo tako daleč, da so me peljali na območje bombardiranja, kjer so bile eksplozije edina stvar, ki sem jo lahko slišala. Prah je letel po zraku in tla pod menoj so se zibala kot gugalnica. Da ne bomo dokumentirali dogodka, sem spoznala šele, ko so se vsi trije vrnili v oklepni avtomobil in se odpeljali stran, se smejali in mahali in me pustili za seboj na območju bombardiranja.
For a moment, I felt terrified, humiliated, and sorry for myself. My colleagues' action was not the only death threat I have received, but it was the most dangerous one.
Za trenutek sem bila prestrašena, ponižana, smilila sem se sama sebi. Dejanje mojih kolegov ni bila edina grožnja s smrtjo, ki sem jo prejela, a je bila najbolj nevarna.
The perception of women's life in Gaza is passive. Until a recent time, a lot of women were not allowed to work or pursue education. At times of such doubled war including both social restrictions on women and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, women's dark and bright stories were fading away. To men, women's stories were seen as inconsequential.
V Gazi ženske vidijo kot pasivne. Do nedavnega veliko žensk ni smelo delati ali se izobraževati. V časih te podvojene vojne, ki je vključevala tako socialne omejitve žensk kot tudi izraelsko-palestinski konflikt, so temne in svetle zgodbe žensk bledele. Moškim so se ženske zgodbe zdele nepomembne.
I started paying closer attention to women's lives in Gaza. Because of my gender, I had access to worlds where my colleagues were forbidden. Beyond the obvious pain and struggle, there was a healthy dose of laughter and accomplishments. In front of a police compound in Gaza City during the first war in Gaza, an Israeli air raid managed to destroy the compound and break my nose. For a moment, all I saw was white, bright white, like these lights. I thought to myself I either got blind or I was in heaven. By the time I managed to open my eyes, I had documented this moment.
Življenje žensk v Gazi sem začela bolje opazovati. Zaradi svojega spola sem imela dostop do svetov, kamor je bil vstop kolegom prepovedan. Za očitno bolečino in težavami je bila zdrava mera smeha in dosežkov. Pred policijskim poslopjem v mestu Gaza je med prvo vojno izraelski napad uspel uničiti poslopje in mi zlomiti nos. Za trenutek sem videla samo belino, svetlo belino kot te luči tu. Pomislila sem, da sem oslepela ali pa šla v nebesa. Ko sem odprla oči, sem uspela ujeti ta trenutek. Mohamed Khader, delavec iz Palestine, ki je preživel dve desetletji v Izraelu,
Mohammed Khader, a Palestinian worker who spent two decades in Israel, as his retirement plan, he decided to build a four-floor house, only by the first field operation at his neighborhood, the house was flattened to the ground. Nothing was left but the pigeons he raised and a jacuzzi, a bathtub that he got from Tel Aviv. Mohammed got the bathtub on the top of the rubble and started giving his kids an every morning bubble bath.
se je pred upokojitvijo odločil zgraditi štirinadstropno hišo in v prvem napadu na njegovo sosesko so hišo zravnali s tlemi. Ostalo ni nič, razen golobov, ki jih je vzgojil, in jacuzzija, kopalne kadi, ki jo je dobil iz Tel Aviva. Mohamed je spravil kopalno kad na vrh ruševin in začel otrokom vsako jutro pripravljati penečo kopel. Moje delo ni namenjeno skrivanju brazgotin vojne,
My work is not meant to hide the scars of war, but to show the full frame of unseen stories of Gazans. As a Palestinian female photographer, the journey of struggle, survival and everyday life has inspired me to overcome the community taboo and see a different side of war and its aftermath. I became a witness with a choice: to run away or stand still.
ampak pokazati celoten okvir nevidnih zgodb Gaze. Kot fotografinjo iz Palestine me je potovanje truda, preživetja in vsakdanjega življenja navdihnilo, da sem premagala družbeni tabu in videla drugo stran vojne in njenih posledic. Postala sem priča z izbiro: da zbežim ali ostanem.
Thank you.
Hvala.
(Applause)
(Aplavz)