This weekend I am a slave to my netbook as I prepare what will be a stonkingly informative lecture, albeit delivered with all the charisma of the Tin Man.

It is late in the day, a subject I am not familiar with and the poor students are edging on rebellion due to administrative errors.

Hopes are high, as are tensions.

Which is why I greeted the commitment to attending Palestinian Night with a degree of trepidation.

With the entrance fee going towards a worthy cause, I figured I would pay then run back to my shackles.

I am glad I didn’t – for this was one of the most moving evenings of its kind that I have attended.

A combination of film, talks, live music and a party that will continue in my envious absence until 2 a.m., it was ameliorated no end by some of the most sumptuous food this side of Amman.

The evening began with a screening of Ross Kemp’s foray into Gaza, part of his exploration of conflict and crime ridden cities.

Observing the construction of tunnels – for which workers are paid $25 a day – it concluded with a visit to a psychiatric ward for child victims of Operation Cast Lead.

As one tiny girl, her skin drawn taut over her tiny cheeks and her eyes deadened with grief burst out suddenly that her mother and father had been shot dead in front of her, the tragedy was impossible to ignore.

Her candid description – “My mother’s head was half gone; my father’s brain was coming out here… They died in front of me” – was galling.

However, and rather peculiarly, while I managed to sustain an emotionless mask throughout, it was the subsequent and final clip of the dabkeh that moved most.

Simply, the woman stated that while we would see the dabkeh, we would not see it live.

This, she explained, was because as Palestinians they rarely see it themselves – with checkpoints preventing easy passage from one city to another, the tradition of villages coming together to dance is lessening.

Watching that dance of joy and knowing that something so simple, so cultural and delightful is becoming almost fabled because of occupation was shattering.

The screenings ended with the above short by Israel filmmaker Yoni Goodman (of Waltz with Bashir fame), which depicts the status quo in Gaza during the Operation.

One viewing is enough to convey a thousand words and sentiments.