I caught a glimpse of the golden dome through a gate in the Old City. Unlike other panoramic views, the dome here was so close that I felt I could walk right through the gate and see the magnificent structure unfolding before my eyes. Yet the gate is now closed and guarded by two soldiers all day.

I finally got to the Dome of the Rock a week later, after a hurried walk through the Old City, a long queue to security, two strict checkpoints in which my bags and electronic devices were inspected and then another long walk up a temporary ramp. Only then did the shrine, with its new golden dome and gorgeous blue tiles, present itself fully to us under the bright morning sun. We, as tourists, had access to holy sites that some Muslims in the West Bank would never have. Some of them can only get as close as we did, where they see the Dome clearly from a distance, but have no way of reaching it.

Photo by Junda Zhu/The Gazelle

Situated on a steep hill right off the highway, the camp is home to a group of Bedouins who were forced to leave their home in the Negev Desert. Families live in roofless houses and huts covered on three sides with heavy blue tarps and worn fabrics. The camp has no running water. In the beginning, the Bedouin drilled holes in the pipes taking water to the settlements and used the leaked water. In the past, children used to walk 20 kilometers a day to get to school, and the length of the trip forced some girls to drop out at a young age. International nongovernmental organizations assisted in building a school within the camp to give children more access to education.

Photo by Thinh Tran/The Gazelle

According to Zionism international, construction began in 2002 to prevent infiltration of terrorists and stop the wave of suicide bombings which took hundreds of lives in Israel. For me, this was the most obvious and consistent reminder that I was travelling in a land of conflict.

Lydia Aisenberg, an Israeli journalist with whom I discussed the construction of the wall, recounted how fear was running high among Israelis during the Second Intifada. Her most vivid memory of fear was getting on the bus to go to work every day and mentally choosing a seat that would be least affected if somebody bombed the bus. In her eyes, the presence of the wall helped alleviate Israeli concern about security and threats from Palestinians.

Photo by Thinh Tran/The Gazelle

Along the separation wall between Israel and the Palestinian territory come multiple checkpoints that limit Palestinians’ access to Israel. At checkpoints to Jerusalem, the queues are notoriously long, especially in the morning when Palestinians get into the city for work.

Photo by Thinh Tran/The Gazelle

This portion of the separation wall, seen from the West Bank, is not the same as the one depicted in picture number three. The wall is an endless concrete structure, darkened over time with dust, but enlivened with colorful graffiti conveying messages of peace, Palestinian pride and a longing for the land. This particular portion of the wall runs in front of a residential area, leaving a narrow pathway for dwellers to get in and out of their houses. A resident here told me that, before the wall, he used to be able to visit the ocean, but not anymore.

The Wall Museum can be seen on this portion of the wall. Posters that hang along the wall tell of Palestinian suffering, resistance and strength. The stories vary from the Palestinian women’s verbal revolt against Israeli soldiers who confiscated their household items to the music class that gives children joy. These stories paint hope on an otherwise repressive structure.

Photo by Thinh Tran/The Gazelle

Barta’a is a butterfly-shaped village straddling the Green Line, which separated Israel and Palestine in accordance to the 1949 armistice agreement. West Barta’a lies on the Israeli side, while East Barta’a is a part of the West Bank. Thus, even though technically from the same village, people from the West side cannot cross over to the East side and vice versa. The half-constructed canal that can be seen in the picture separates the two parts of the village.

Photo by Thinh Tran/The Gazelle

In Israel, there are red signs that warn Israeli citizens from entering Area A, controlled by the Palestinian Authority. In the West Bank, there are warning signs from the Palestinian Authority, such as the one above in downtown Ramallah.

Photo by Thinh Tran/The Gazelle

Lying on top of the gate is a model of the Palestinian Key of Return. During the Palestinian exodus in 1948 — also known as al-Nakba, or the catastrophe — many Palestinians took the keys of their homes with them, believing that they would be able to come back within a short period of time. However, they did not know that their exodus would last for many years. The Key of Return remains a symbol for Palestinians’ determination in gaining their rights to return.

Photo by Thinh Tran/The Gazelle

The graffiti depicts Handala, a ten-year old refugee who stands with hands clasped on his back, turned to the readers. Created by cartoonist Naji al-Ali, Handala has become a Palestinian symbol of resistance and a yearning for justice. Handala’s clasped hands show his rejection of outside solutions for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. He always faces his home country, hence turning his back to the viewer.

Photo by Thinh Tran/The Gazelle

Located in the West Bank, the Tent of Nations is a farm built on a piece of land that is surrounded by Israeli settlements. The Nassar family owned the land in the early 1900s, and unlike other Palestinian landowners back then, they secured paperwork that documented their ownership of the property. Thus, despite the constant threat of demolition, the Nassar family has managed to hold onto the land. At the farm, they organize summer camps as well as other youth meeting programs to increase youth awareness about peace and world issues, including the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Photo by Thinh Tran/The Gazelle

Masada is an isolated fortification located high up on a rock plateau, overlooking the Dead Sea. In 70 C.E., during the first Jewish-Roman war, a group of Jews ran away from Jerusalem to escape the Roman military, and stopped in Masada. They built living spaces and fortresses to defend themselves. However, when the Romans built rafts to get to their fortification, they were forced to choose between slavery and death. Elazar ben Yair, the leader of the group, decided that the men would kill all of their wives and children before committing suicide. Nowadays, Israeli soldiers take the oath in Masada, committing to protect their country so that Masada shall not fall again.

Many stone walls, fortresses and cisterns still remain on the huge rock plateau. The remnants of incredible resistance in Masada remind me that Israel was founded as a home for people who had been persecuted and experienced conflict for many centuries. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is further complicated because both sides have struggled in the Holy Land.