The Wall Between Two People

Bethlehem, West Bank, Occupied Palestinian Territories, Israel

It is 6 degrees outside, and in the room I share with Hannah it is a warming 12 degrees. Many may not know that Bethlehem is at the altitude of 791 meters above sea level, and that the desert starts to its right. Stone walls without insulation, and marble floors do without central heating do not necessarily help, and we put on more clothes when we are indoors than we are outside. The Middle East sounds exotic and warm, but I am living in thermals, wooly socks, micro fleece cardigans and many layers of hats, gloves, jackets and scarves. 

One of the most essential parts of my job is to go to the border between Israel and the West Bank where the people of Bethlehem can pass over into the Jerusalem side. It is in its design a hole in the wall, called ”Checkpoint 300”, and there are three different controls the people have to pass through to be let in to Israel. Going in the other direction requires no documents and is just a matter of walking. However imagine standing in a queue already before 4 am, together with several hundred in a metal cage, barred as to prevent pushing and shoving, waiting for the turnstile to open, then showing your documents to a soldier in a booth, whilst a security guard is standing next to you pointing his weapon directly at you, when you have passed that control you have to walk over a huge parking lot with the lights from the watchtowers flashing over you but at this point you are running hoping to go through the second station quickly. In the next building you go down one level, and queue for the metal detector after being let through yet another turnstile. Personally, as a foreigner, I just have to remove my coat and my vest, but most of the men also have to remove their belts and their boots, and do not have time to put them on again until they are at the exit right next to where I greet them. The third control is the most crucial one, where soldiers mostly aged 18-19 check that your id, handprint, and work permit all match. They speak through a microphone, and whilst there are 12 available ID booths and many people want to pass, there is mostly only one and at most four open. So what do we do at the checkpoint you may ask?

One stands counting by the first control, and notes every single person who passes through in the morning hours between 4-8 am. There are two lanes, the main lane, and the humanitarian lane for women, children and men above 60. The humanitarian lane is also used by internationals, and should always be open. However this is normally not the case, and just because a child is sick or has a hospital appointment does not mean it has the right to be let through. Partly because there are medical services in the occupied Palestinian territories, and partly because the hospitals for humanitarian reasons give invitations without checking if the Palestinians can actually afford the offered care. Sadly it is common for Palestinians in desperate need to get into Israel to get a job, to use their children as an excuse, without using the appointment at the hospital, and the Israelis check that the Palestinians do what they are supposed to be doing, with a quite detailed follow up system. This means that when you really need to take your child to the hospital, you may be refused. The main lane is where the awful queue starts to build up as early as 3am, and the person not counting must push past all the men to get to the front at 4am before the first control opens. The men do separate to let you pass, meaning they stand in two lines and you squeeze past in the middle. They do at times touch you, but I am trying to learn how to say”Don’t touch me" in Arabic because then the other men will deal with that person. After squeezing past 500 men, and going through the controls the other person working at the checkpoint stand outside counting how many metal detectors and ID booths that are open. You also greet all the 3-4000 people who pass through the checkpoint and at times need to listen to their frustration, desperation but also compliments i.e. I am given a kiss on the cheek by an old woman everyday and whilst I cannot understand a word she says, I think she understand that I am trying to provide protective presence

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 A growing problem is that the Palestinians are not allowed to pray inside the checkpoint, despite religion being a fundamental human right, and you would think the history of Israel would provide an understanding for this. The Morning Prayer is at 5am, but if they are in the queue they wait until they are outside and then pray in masses. Yesterday morning the security guard and police came out and started shouting at the men on two occasions, refusing them the right to pray even there. The second time a man refused to stop praying, so they took him inside. Then two soldiers came out and pointed their big guns at the kneeling, praying men, whilst I stood there paralyzed, quickly calling the person on the Bethlehem side to report and consult in case they were to shoot. Instead the two soldiers turned and angled their automatic weapons up in the air, and unsecured them. I am familiar with both guns or soldiers from my previous experiences, and normally they do not make me stressed. Yet now I felt very concerned and helpless. The rest of the morning the security guards and police sat above the entrance so I could not see them, and threw small plastic objects on the people exiting and then made noises as if they were throwing up on the people below, which of course made the Palestinians very uncomfortable. I am learning to see on the people’s faces if they are concerned, but I believe anyone would consider an uncomfortable experience. Just remember that the Palestinians lucky enough to get a work permit in Israel must go through this process twice daily!

The soldiers wonder of course what we are doing there, and cannot understand that anyone willingly would spend months of their life trying to sympathies with the Palestinians. One of them said to me this morning "Do you know what I dont like about living here? Sometimes when I talk to people like you, like right now I get confused." The soldiers are also just people, and it helps when you at least see a human side in them and some of them like today actually open the queue when I ask.Yet we have to be balance answering their questions respectfully, with not getting associated with them. We do stand at the checkpoint five times a week, so they all recognize us. Our house is also 100 meters from the wall, with only one house in between. I call the wall the monument of evil; it is such a fundamental wrong doing, separating people, creating barriers, exaggerating differences and fears. To cover up its dark glooming presence people have painted on it, but that only covers the lower parts which you do not see from a distance. The further you get from the wall, the more it looks like a creeping snake, but I will save that to next time when I will tell you about the village of Al Walaja.

DISCLAIMER!

I work for the Christian Council of Sweden as an Ecumenical Accompanier, serving on the World Council of Churches’ Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel (EAPPI). The views contained in this report are personal and do not necessarily reflect those of the Christian Council of Sweden or the World Council of Churches. If you would like to publish or disseminate it further, please first contact the EAPPI communications officer and managing editor (eappi-co@jrol.com) for permission.