Twenty years before October 7, 2024, but more than half a century after what Palestinians call the Nakba, and Israelis call the founding of a safe haven in a hostile world, I went with some friends to the occupied West Bank. I wanted to see what was happening there with my own eyes and to host a discussion between Israeli and Palestinian architects.
2024年10月7日的二十年前，距离巴勒斯坦人所称的“灾难”（Nakba）和以色列人所称的“在敌对世界中的避风港”已经过去了半个多世纪。我和几位朋友前往被占领的约旦河西岸，想亲眼看看那里发生的事情，并组织了一场以色列和巴勒斯坦建筑师之间的讨论。
Before I eventually reached Ramallah, I crossed basically all spatial regimes you could think of to live or not live together.
在最终抵达拉马拉之前，我几乎穿越了所有你能想象的空间格局，展现了人们如何共存或无法共存的种种形式。
I visited Tel Aviv, with its reminiscences of the glorious self-determination of the Jewish people and its melting pot of different subcultures. I passed through Jerusalem, which, although very tense, still showed forms of respectful coexistence sustained by zoning, enclaves, and, if need be, corridors. I crossed the border to the Palestinian Territory, experiencing its extensive maze of walls and gates, strict surveillance, and other forms of spatial apartheid.
我参观了特拉维夫，这座城市既承载着犹太民族追求自决的辉煌历史，又汇聚了各种不同的亚文化，形成了一个多元融合的大熔炉。途经耶路撒冷，尽管气氛紧张，但依然能看到通过分区、飞地，甚至依靠走廊维系人们的尊重与共存。我穿越边境进入巴勒斯坦领土，亲身感受到那里的高墙与大门交织成的迷宫、严密的监控，以及其他形式的空间隔离。
Through all that, I heard the stories of people whose families had been deported or who had to leave their land during those violent years at the end of the 1940s.
在这一路上，我听到了许多家庭的故事，他们在20世纪40年代末的动荡岁月中被迫背井离乡，或遭到驱逐。
These regimes, with all their degrees of diminishing mutual trust, attest to respect for at least one thing: other people's lives. Whatever the complexity of the intertwining histories of people who called themselves indigenous, native, local, or at least completely legitimized to live there, the way they danced around each other was, at the very least, based on a basic acknowledgment of the other as a human being.
这些制度，不论彼此间的信任如何逐渐削弱，至少证明了一点：对他人生命的基本尊重。无论那些自称为土著、原住民、本地人，或拥有合法居住权的人们之间的历史有多复杂，他们之间的互动，至少是基于对彼此作为人类最基本的承认。
ARCHIS R.S.V.P. EVENTS on 7 October, 2004
responsible-based Ecents; A Quest for Ideas, Spirit and Action featuring You, Arhics and AMO
But then came the discussion, which opened my eyes to another dimension beyond the spatial. It was the dimension of time. More than sadness about the loss of agency in an occupied land, it was the excruciating pain of the loss of vitality in occupied time. People shared their stories of how their lifetime crumbled away under the endless daily waiting that came with moving from A to B—that is, that came with living their lives.
然而，接下来的讨论让我看到了超越空间的另一个维度——时间。相比于失去对被占领土地的控制，真正让人痛苦的，是在被占领的时间里生命力的消逝。人们分享了他们的故事，讲述了如何在日复一日的无尽等待中，生命一点点被耗尽，仅仅是为了从A点到B点——也就是为了继续过日子。
And they told me what they were waiting for, in those endless queues. They were living in a world in which authorities wanted to know who you were, where you were, where you had been, why you were there, why you still were there, and so on. To lead such a life was no longer just to pass through checkpoints; it was to become a checkpoint. They were victims of a war not just conducted to occupy space, but to occupy their lifetime. In the long run, it could lead to a spatial policy more cruel even than deportation: exile from one's self.
他们告诉我，在那些无尽的队伍中，他们究竟在等待什么。他们生活在一个被当局严格监控的世界里，必须不断回答：你是谁，你在哪里，你去过哪里，你为什么在这里，你为什么还在这里，等等。过这样的生活，不再只是通过检查站，而是逐渐变成了一个“活的检查站”。他们不仅是被占领空间的战争受害者，更是被掠夺时间的战争牺牲者。从长远来看，这可能会带来一种比驱逐更为残酷的结果——让人逐渐与自我疏离，最终迷失自己。
And then it happened: a woman stepped forward. Reluctantly, she said that she had met the love of her life while waiting in a line. No matter the cruelty around her, her humanity wouldn't surrender.
然后，那个时刻到来了：一位女性走上前来，迟疑着说，她在排队等待的过程中遇到了自己一生的挚爱。尽管周围充满了残酷，她的人性却从未屈服。
On this day of remembrance, let us overcome fear, hate, revenge, and abuse, and remember her loving imagination as the only way out to ever come closer to peace.
在这个纪念日里，让我们超越恐惧、仇恨、复仇和暴力，铭记她那充满爱的想象力，因为这是我们唯一能够接近和平的途径。
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