Life here is a cacophony: street vendors hawk their wares—fruits, vegetables, sweets, and bread; service drivers call their destinations—Balata camp, 'Askar camp, Huwwara checkpoint, Beit Iba checkpoint; the shouts of children at play fill the streets in the daytime; and the sharp reports of gunfire echo across the valley in the night. But the loudest in this storm of noise are the myriad voices demanding they be heard.
Here are a few which spoke most loudly to me. I have tried to preserve their uniqueness as best as memory allowed. The last one is my own.