In the Eyes of a Journalist

Last night I read Joe Sacco’s Palestine which I borrowed from my brother. This graphic novel told about a nationalism of the forgotten country. Well, there are hundreds authors wrote about Palestine so far but, in my opinion, Sacco did it better. By combining techniques of eye witness reportage with the medium of comics storytelling, Sacco deeply explored the complex, emotionally weighted situation of Palestine. He had spent two months (winter 1991-1992) in Israel and the occupied territories, traveling from one refugee camp to others and taking notes.

            Joe Sacco (right side in the pic) is a cartoonist and journalist. Everything he had worked on Palestine was simply everything what he had heard and witnessed during his Mid-Eastern jaunt. His Palestine then set new standards for the use of comic as a documentary medium. Through his eyes I could see the brutal torturing and pure cruelty happened in Palestine. However, in working on his project, Sacco viewed the object from two different sides: Palestinian and Israeli. He kept himself to be always in the rule of journalism.

            Being journalist is something serious. It needs not only most of your time and energy but also a heart full of sincerity. Your brilliant brain won’t help too much if you don’t have sharp eyes to observe and two ears which are ready to listen. For me, a journalist is more than a professional status people give to someone who reports news. It means prestige and adventure.

            At the age 25 (twelve years ago), I really didn’t have any good reason why I decided to be a journalist. I just sent my application and CV to the local leading newspaper. A week later, I took series of test together with other nine applicants. I was the only female there. And surprisingly, after three days waiting, I was accepted as a journalist.

            Actually, I liked the way a journalist worked. Though I was the only female, my five senior journalists were good friends to share ideas and experiences. I enjoyed the times of we were news-hunting and having fun while I was sitting in front of the compy to prepare my reports. But still, being a journalist was too hard for me.

            I am not truly a late person. Less of sleep made me easily get sick and weak. I wasn’t that tough. In my fifth month working, I gave up although my five seniors did the best to pursue me to stay. Amazingly, they didn’t do it just because what I’ve done, but it was mainly because we were team.

            Last night while I was reading Joe Sacco’s Palestine, I remembered my five seniors. How I learned so much from them. They gave me such an unforgettable experience during the five months I was there. I will always remember those sleepless nights we spent together with cups of coffee (no cigarettes please :p).

            I found Joe Sacco’s soul inside them. Thanks for had been there when I needed support and comfort. I wish you more than luck pals!

           

(Truly dedicated to my five Joe Saccos: Mr. Moenir, Brother Ajid, Brother Rudy, Brother Ono and Faisal)

Photo courtesy http://www.virginmedia.com/images/eyes430x300.jpg