By Abbott Koloff, Daily Record \

March 29, 2003

In a land where his father has trouble finding work, and where he says gunfire is routine, Deya Ali imagined growing up to become an actor or a poet. His favorite sport was soccer. He liked to watch American movies, like "Rambo," on video, but said his friends talked about boycotting American products." Like Pepsi," Ali said.

He comes from the Israeli-occupied West Bank. His father often talked about the town where his family had come from, inside of what is now Israel. Before the violence of the past two years, his father worked construction jobs for an Israeli company. Now, Deya said, his father works as a day laborer in Arab-owned stores.

Deya, 15, said he and two friends were walking home from school in Nablus, a Palestinian town, early last year when they were attacked. He said several Israeli settlers, walking in the other direction, started shooting at them. One bullet hit him in the side. He woke up in an Israeli helicopter with an Israeli soldier holding his hand, telling him he would be all right.

"Every day in my neighborhood there is shooting bullets and rockets," Deya said recently through a translator. "I wake up dreaming about shooting and rockets."

Now he wakes up in a Union County hospital, where he's undergoing intense physical therapy so that one day he might walk again. He had surgery last month, performed at another New Jersey hospital, to reattach his pancreas to his digestive system, so his body would be able to break down nutrients.

Aref Assaf, a Denville resident, helped bring Deya to the United States last month after someone familiar with the case called the Palestine Children's Relief Fund, an international nonprofit organization.

A year after being shot, Deya had been losing weight, going from 168 to 71 pounds, and doctors at a Jordanian hospital told his family to take him home; there was nothing more they could do.

"He was going to die," said Assaf, who works with the relief fund and has been acting as Deya's guardian in the United States. Assaf also is an official with the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee and has been outspoken on Palestinian issues.

Deya said last week that he feels stronger after the surgery, performed at the Jersey Shore Medical Center in Neptune. Back up to 125 pounds, he started physical therapy last week at Specialized Children's Hospital in Mountainside, where doctors said he asks for extra sessions. Nerve tissue in his spinal cord was damaged by lack of blood flow when he was shot, doctors said, but they expect him to be able to walk with the help of a cane.

"He is a very determined young man," said Dr. Michelle Fantasia, a pediatric physiatrist. "He will have difficulty walking, but he will walk."

Deya is one of 300 children sponsored by the Palestine Children's Relief Fund over the past decade, Assaf said. Financial records show the relief fund received $884,798 in donations in 2001 and paid more than $521,554 to help Palestinian children receive medical care. Assaf said much of the care that Deya has been receiving in the United States has been given free of charge - including surgery performed by Dr. Saad Saad, who was not available to comment late last week.

While the relief fund's mission is purely humanitarian, Assaf said, its funding, largely donations from Arab-Americans, has fallen victim to the political atmosphere. Annual donations have dropped by more than 10 percent since the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, he said, because people fear that contributions to a Middle Eastern charity will be scrutinized by the government.

Deya, who now spends much of his spare time using computers, said he's not interested in politics. Assaf asked him if he hates Jews. Deya shook his head and said "no" in Arabic. But while he says he's not political, Deya talks about one day having a country to call his own. He draws a picture of a Palestinian flag on a computer. Asked about his perceptions of the United States, he thinks for a moment before talking about conflicting feelings.

"The bullet that went into me was made in America," he said.

Deya also said that he wants to visit the Statue of Liberty because it represents freedom. He said he is not free to come and go as he pleases on the West Bank.

"Maybe I can touch the Statue of Liberty, smell it, and take a piece home with me," Deya said.

He has not seen much of America, except the insides of hospitals and ambulances, since he arrived last month. Assaf said he planned to take Deya out this weekend, to have dinner at an Arabic restaurant in Paterson.

Deya has watched American television and said some images disturbed him. He said it appeared that Arabs are the butt of jokes, although he does not understand what is being said.

He also said he is grateful for the help he has received in the United States, writing a letter, in Arabic, to thank doctors and nurses who have cared for him.

"I only hope to return your good deeds by being able to do the same unto other helpless children - the many whose luck was not as good as mine," Deya wrote.

"I shall forever declare that there is goodness in this world, and that there remain good people who love to help others. I shall forever say that if more good people join hands, there will be peace amongst humankind."

He said there has not been much peace at home. As he walked home from school in Nablus on Jan. 31, 2002, he said an Israeli settler, a heavyset man, shot him and then taunted him. Deya said the settler threatened to shoot him again, but he doesn't remember clearly what happened next. He remembers seeing Israeli soldiers.

"That's when I fainted," he said.

Then he was on an Israeli helicopter, where he said an Israeli soldier cursed both Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon and Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat. "This is a waste that we have to fight and kill one another," the soldier said, according to Deya.

An official with the Israel Defense Forces said last week that he had only sketchy information about what happened that day. He said a Palestinian who suffered a gunshot wound was flown by military helicopter to an Israeli hospital and that the incident took place in a village south of Nablus. The official said a full report was not available last week.

Deya said he received good care at Chaim Sheba Medical Center in Tel Aviv, Israel's largest hospital, where much of the damage caused by the bullet was repaired. But after 40 days of treatment, he said he was told he had to leave because he had no insurance and no way to pay his bills.

Chaim Sheba officials said their policy calls for patients not to be released until treatment is completed, regardless of ability to pay. Rachel Schachar, a hospital spokeswoman, said Chaim Sheba treats more than 1,000 Palestinian patients each year, many receiving free medical care, including cardiac surgery.

It is not clear what kind of treatment Deya then received, first at a Palestinian hospital and then at one in Jordan. Doctors said they are still reviewing the medical records.

Doctors at Jersey Shore Medical Center removed a fragment from Deya's pancreas and gave it to him as a keepsake. He certainly does not appear to be squeamish.

"He has no problem looking at pictures of his surgery," Assaf said.

Deya said he never gave up hope that he would walk again, and he expects to lead a normal life. In his letter to doctors and nurses, he said he knows he has a long recovery ahead of him. He signed it this way: "A hopeful Palestinian boy."

Abbott Koloff can be reached at akoloff@gannett.com or (973) 989-0652.