Humanitarian Queue

Translator:  Charles K.

A difficult Friday, with long lines, elderly men and women and sick people crowded between the bars.  The “humanitarian lane” is closed.

Why isn’t the humanitarian lane open on Fridays?
8:40  Unlike ordinary Fridays, today we found three long lines of people who had been waiting under the canopy for a long time – an hour and a half, we were told (even before they reach the revolving gates).  Three lanes are open.
An old man is jammed into the line between the bars, bent over, leaning on his cane, weak, sick.  He turns to us angrily, insulted.  He’s crying.  He gets stuck inside the revolving gate when the next clump of people tries to go through.  Hangs on the bars.  A heartbreaking sight.
Old and ill people continued to arrive the entire time we were there; they were forced to wait on line for a long time.  Others waiting allow them to move to the head of the line; the coffee-seller offers them his chair.  Some bring folding chairs with them – they’ve been here before.

The line lengthens.  The area beyond the revolving gates is also very crowded.  People run from one line to another, hoping to find the “right” one.  Bitterness, curses, anger.

An elderly man arrives with his sick wife.  He seats her on a bench while he stands at the head of the line.  She looks very bad.
 
We telephone the humanitarian office, ask them to open the humanitarian lane.  They promise to find out whether it’s possible (?).  After additional calls to the DCO we see beyond the bars, in the area beyond the fences, an officer and a soldier.  They wander around, and eventually reach the fence.  They allow a few of the elderly and the ill to come through.  Ten minutes later the magic door is locked again.  “They should get on line, we can’t stand here taking care of people.  Only those who are ill.”  But how is it possible to take care “only” of the sick if there’s no one at the humanitarian gate to deal with them?  The officer from the humanitarian office has disappeared; we shout, call him to return because those who need him haven’t gone away.  And you won’t believe this – the female soldier emerges from the cage and promises to find out whether he’s able to come back.

10:00  An adult man and his old father on their way to the hospital.  The father isn’t able to stand, and sits on the ground.  The son hopes the humanitarian gate will open; more calls to the DCO, the son is helpless (in the face of the fences), thinks it would be better to get on the regular line.  The old man gets up with great difficulty, moves toward the line, but the congestion makes them return to wait for someone from the DCO, hoping our calls helped.  The old man sinks down again on the concrete floor.  The DCO people suddenly appear.

10:10  The officer explains that many more people than usual arrived today; he agrees to allow (only) women to go through his gate.  While this shortens their wait on line, they get stuck beyond the revolving gates where the lines are long and the congestion is great.

An angry adult man says to us:  Next year I retire.  I’ll go to Australia, get a car, drive for hours on end without anyone stopping me and asking for my ID card.  Life here is humiliating and difficult, and it’s no wonder there’s a lot of anger and hatred, and that people want to kill all Jews everywhere.

Translator:  Charles K.

A young woman with three little children tries to cross and fails; cf. the appendix at the end.

5:00
About 80 people wait outside at the only revolving gate that’s open.  Three inspection booths are open inside.  About 120 people on line there.  Every 10-12 minutes, about 100 people are sent in for inspection.  There’s congestion within, but almost no line outside.  People get in line for the second revolving gate – but it doesn’t open.  The soldier yells in Hebrew that the middle lane isn’t operating.  But newcomers keep going there nevertheless, then begin shouting when it remains closed.  The soldier yells in Arabic.

5:30
The line in the shed still isn’t long.  About 120 people wait in the inspection lanes.  240 people entered for inspection during the past half hour.

Meanwhile an additional inspection lane opens – 4 out of 5.  People ask why the revolving gate in the third lane doesn’t open – after all, only the second revolving gate is stuck.  Ina makes a call and very soon, maybe because of the shouting and maybe because of her call, the third lane also opens.  I stand next to it, exposed to a serious danger of nicotine poisoning.  Dozens of starlings land on the iron points of the bars and the wire fence, conversing cheerfully.  Everyone else is frozen from the cold and silent.  The laborers toss their bags of food through the bars so they won’t be crushed as the lines advance.

6:00
Now there’s already a very long line reaching to the parking lot in front of the two open revolving gates.  About 120 people waiting on line and more than 80 at the humanitarian gate that hasn’t opened yet.  People are become increasingly agitated.  During the past half hour, 260 people entered for inspection.
Shift change, and the fifth entry lane opens.  The checkpoint is now operating at full capacity but the humanitarian lane still hasn’t opened.  At 6:15 Ina calls the humanitarian office and reports that about 100 people are waiting on the humanitarian line.  A female officer arrives, at 6:25 the gate opens and the 140 people waiting go through all at once.  About half of them don’t appear to be humanitarian cases but no one inspects their documents and everyone enters.

6:30
120 people on line and another 50 at the humanitarian gate.  During the past half hour, 500 people have crossed into the inspection area.  The area inside is crowded and congested.
Two men crossed in 45 minutes.  One from 5:45 to 6:30, the other from 6:15 to 7:00.

7:00
The line has shortened.  325 people entered for inspection during the past half hour.
Women and children hurry back and forth between the regular line and the humanitarian line, because they don’t know whether the latter will reopen.  This wastes time and leads to confusion.

7:30
It’s almost empty outside.  300 people entered for inspection during the past half hour.
Angela, one of the ecumenical volunteers, got on line in the shed at 7:15 and came through inspection only at 8:05.  A total of 50 minutes, at a time when there was no congestion at all.

7:45
We left the checkpoint through the vehicle crossing – crawling along for ten minutes until the inspection was completed.

Appendix:  The mother and her three sons
As we noted above, this wasn’t a particularly crowded morning at the Qalandiya checkpoint.  Most people managed to go through in 30-45 minutes, even during times when it was more congested.
A woman with three young sons wasn’t so lucky.  They were stuck at the checkpoint for an hour and a half.
We first saw them shortly before 7:00, when the humanitarian crossing was empty and closed, standing in the middle of the long line that wound from the parking lot to the revolving gates.  By chance she had chosen to stand at the farther gate which, as it turned out, only lengthened her wait.
Her sons captured our hearts.  They were about 3, 4 and 5 years old, attractive, wearing identical sweaters, moving around their mother the whole time, and she constantly had to insure she didn’t lose sight of them and at the same time keep her place on line.

I recalled how, many years ago, I’d go out with my first two sons, when they were 3 or 4 years old, who were also identically dressed, either from maternal pride or a desire not to make one jealous of the other (why did you buy him a new one, and I get his cast-offs…).  I was always tense, trying to keep the children from getting lost, from getting hurt…I’d come home with a splitting headache, and I hadn’t had to wait on line at the checkpoints.  You could see, beneath the mother’s apparent calm, how she really feels, wanting to finish this nightmare, to reach the other side.

The eldest son, as expected, took responsibility.  He closely watched the youngest, who was daring and tried to amuse himself by jumping and turning around in a way that was dangerous in the crowd at the checkpoint.  The middle son was a real devil.  He wasn’t still for a minute.  Running around, shooting out between the adults’ legs, an angelic smile on his face and the mischievousness of a little terror.  One of the sons picked up wrappers from the ground.  The mother, in the midst of the congestion and filth, didn’t relinquish her educational role.  She took him to a trash can, guiding his hand so he’ll throw the garbage where it belongs.  The young mother impressed me.

Suddenly the humanitarian crossing opened.  The mother hurried over, her three sons toddling behind her, through the mass of men toward the crossing.  But by the time she got there the soldiers had already closed it and entered the control room.
She then got on the line at the first revolving gate to be closer to the humanitarian gate if it should open.  We saw her and her sons standing quietly in the narrow, fenced passageway.  Ina, who was shocked by the sight of the small children behind what looked like prison bars, asked the mother for permission to photograph the children who were hanging on the fence, grinning at us cheerfully.  It seemed that, for them, the time at the checkpoint was exhilarating, a break in their routine.

At about 7:30 the mother and three sons went through the revolving gate and joined the line to inspection booth number 3.  Angela, the ecumenical volunteer, had also reached it.  
Bad luck continued to follow the mother and three sons.  While the other four inspection lanes operated normally, it shortly became evident that the line on lane 3 wasn’t moving at all.  The revolving gate remained closed for at least the next 25 minutes that Angela stood there, along with the young mother and her three little sons.

(A clarification:  It’s not easy to determine that a gate is stuck.  The revolving gate turns only every few minutes, and whoever is inside can’t compare how rapidly he’s advancing compared to people in other lines.  Each crossing is physically separated from the others by walls and windows.)

The men let the mother and sons precede them all the way to the front of the line, and told Angela to move forward to find out why the revolving gate isn’t working.
They all had a long, exhausting morning.  Some of the men began shouting and banging on the bars.  The female soldier emerged from the inspection room, looked, probably saw the mother and three sons at the head of the line, but turned around and returned to the room without providing any information about why the gate was stuck.  

Only then did the volunteer and the mother leave lane three and soon came out, through a different lane, into the autumn sunlight flooding over them on the other side of the checkpoint.
How different could everything be were it not for the war, for the occupation, the division – between them and us.

Translator:  Charles K.

“What’s going on, vacation?...” (no line at the checkpoint…)

5:00  “No congestion, no humanitarian gate.”
No line at all.  Whoever shows up goes immediately through the revolving gate on the left.  Three inspection lanes inside are open.  About 80 people wait on the lines.  Every minute a van, taxi or car arrives and lets out 10-20 men who hurry right in for inspection.

5:30  No line in the shed yet.  About 120 people waiting in the inspection lanes.  In the past half hour, 236 people entered for inspection.
Two more inspection lanes opened inside.  Still no congestion.  Many people told us that today is excellent, but yesterday was terrible.  A guy running up who found no line at the checkpoint raised his hand questioningly and asked, “What’s going on, vacation?...”

6:00  Now there are lines at the two open revolving gates.  105 people are waiting, and about 20 more at the humanitarian gate.  In the last half hour, 246 people entered for inspection.

Two officers arrive at the humanitarian gate, but don’t open it.  We wonder whether the key got lost, or whether they’re waiting for the guards.  Finally they send everyone over to the regular line, except a young couple with a tiny baby who are allowed to go through the humanitarian gate.  
Ina insists on people’s right to use the humanitarian crossing:
“All the women standing over there have the right to cross here…”, she explained to the officer.
“If there’s no congestion, there’s no humanitarian crossing,” said the officer.  The gate remained locked.

6:30  The line lengthens.  In the last half hour, 330 people entered for inspection.
There are now many more women and children.  A father, with three young daughters, stands firmly in the humanitarian lane, but quickly gives up and moves to the regular line.

7:00 – The line shortens.  In the last half hour, 450 people entered for inspection.  Forty people are waiting outside, about 100 on the inspection lines.  The two ecumenical activists get on the end of the line at 7:10 and exit to the Israeli side at 7:45.
A total of 35 minutes, on a day without any congestion at all.

The pace of progress through the five checking stations was so slow this morning that it’s hard to avoid the feeling, given today's date, that the long wait to transit the checkpoint was designed as punishment of the population for the Palestinian Authority’s upcoming moves at the United Nations.

Three lines extend to the edges of the covered waiting area and a crowd is waiting by the Humanitarian Gate when we arrive at 6:10. Two Civil Administration officers and an armed security guard enter the checkpoint at 6:15 but do not open the Humanitarian Gate for another 10 minutes. In the meanwhile, one of the officers questioned each of the men waiting on line and checked their permits. (This was the only time this morning that men’s ages or permits were checked at the Humanitarian Gate). The gate was finally opened at 6:25 and some 35 people went through. For the next hour, the gate was opened only at 15-minute intervals. At 7:00, for example, no fewer than 122 people went through it at once. At 7:15, 32 people were allowed through, leaving 20 still waiting behind it. Between 7:25 and 7:52, 65 people were allowed through the gate at intervals of less than 15 minutes. But at 7:52 the CA officers and bodyguard leave the checkpoint, and the gate is not opened again.

Meanwhile, by 6:25 the lines leading into the three cage-like passages extend out into the parking lot. The carousels have not been opened for 20 minutes (between our arrival and 6:10 and 6:30), and we can see that the pace through the sleeves remains agonizingly slow. When we ask one of the CA officers about this, rather than relate to our comment about the pace at the checking stations, he brushes us off with the reply that more people than usual have come to the checkpoint this morning. At 6:30, with the carousels at the end of the cage-like passages already locked for 20 minutes, the lines extending into the parking lot, people becoming very restive (roaring and whistling for the carousels to be opened), the CA officers ignoring our efforts to talk to them again, and the situation threatening to become explosive, we call the deputy commander of the area, who refers us back to the CA officers on the scene.

A minute or so later, the three carousels open and the lines are reduced by half. At 7:00 about 100 men are allowed through the carousels. As the hour grows closer to 7:30, more people are allowed through at once– 121 at 7:34 and another 60 at 7:36 – apparently in an attempt to clear the passages well before 8:00. Nevertheless, the pace through the sleeves remains at a crawl – and, together with the crowding, tension rises to the point where a fight breaks out among some of the men on the line in Sleeve 4. At 8:00, 70 people – including women and students, as the Humanitarian Gate is now closed – are again on line within two of the three passages, and at 8:10 all three passages are filled with people. They were emptied five minutes later, but when we leave at 8:20, they are quickly filling again, and there are still long lines leading into the five sleeves (though the pace there seems to have picked up a bit).

A man at the end of a line whose number we take at 6:10 later tells us by phone that he exited the checkpoint at 7:30 (1 hour and 20 minutes). Another, whose number we take at 7:30, reports that he exited at 8:35 (1 hour and 5 minutes).  At 7:30 our colleagues from the EAPPI program of the World Council of Churches share with us their figures that between 7:00 and 7:30 this morning, 187 men exited the checkpoint, whereas their average number for that half hour in the morning at Qalandia is 300.

Once again long lines (we estimate over 200 people) extend to outside the covered waiting area, and a large crowd (of 30-40) stands in front of the Humanitarian Gate when we arrive at 6:15. A familiar colleague from the World Council of Churches’ EAPPI program who has been at the checkpoint since 5:00 informs us (and we have no reason to doubt him, as we have seen an earlier instance of the same with our own eyes) that the woman soldier responsible for opening the turnstiles was in a deep sleep before the shift changed at 6 a.m. – and thus the heavy backup this morning. We call the Humanitarian Hotline and the DCO to ask about the absence of a Civil Administration officer -- and thus the Humanitarian Gate not being operated – and one arrives soon thereafter.  Speaking fluent Arabic, he queries every male at the Humanitarian Gate about his age before letting groups of people though. For the most part, however, the gate is opened each time about 7-10 people are gathered in front of it. In contrast, the three turnstiles are opened less often. And although all five checking stations are open, the long lines leading into the cage-like passages persist until well after 7:00. A man whose cell number we took at 6:30, when he was standing at the end of one of the three lines, subsequently told us that it took him 55 minutes to traverse the checkpoint. When we leave at 7:15, all three passages remain full.

From what we could see (and were told) upon arrival, the lack of supervision – at least of the soldier responsible for opening the turnstiles – prior to the arrival of a CA officer sometime after 6:00 (and that sometimes only after we have called the DCO) continues to be the source of early-morning problems. We have commented on this a number of times, to no avail. Can it be that no one cares?

  
15:30, Qalandiya:  When we reached Qalandiya, there were two active passageways with small lines in each.  As usual, the CP was dirty and squalid, lit weakly in a manner that doesn't hide the neglect but only highlights it, accentuating the gloominess.  There were very few people in the northern shed, mainly day laborers returning home after a day's work.  It seems that, since opening of the western CP for bus passengers, the livelihood of the peddlers in the shed has collapsed.  On reaching Qalandiya, we managed only to say our good-byes to the coffee-seller who had already packed up his cart and was all but gone.  The candy-man and the corn-vendor held out for another hour.
On entering the CP we met a group of angry people hurrying from Passageway No. 1 to Passageway No. 4.  They told us that after they had stood on line and waited (for varying amounts of time), a soldier had announced over the PA system that the passageway was closed.  Now there was only one active passageway and the line there quickly grew very long.  We called Headquarters and, when that didn't help, the Passageway Unit. This time for a change, the soldier answering the phone didn't hang up on me but explained that one of the soldiers in Passageway 1 (one of three soldiers) had gone to the WC, thereby paralyzing an entire passageway.  But this simple explanation seemed to calm those still waiting in line.
A crippled teen-age girl, leaning on a walker, arrived in Passageway 1 with her mother.  We phoned Headquarters again to ask for help and, unbelievably, after several minutes a female soldier in the aquarium opened the "Humanitarian Gate" and let the two through and out again to Jerusalem.  Natanya accompanied them and, on her way, complimented the soldier on her compassionate behavior.  The soldier, Chen, responded that all soldiers should behave in that manner.  Days of the Messiah! 
Meanwhile, Nicole and I stayed behind and chatted with those standing in line.  They complained about conditions in the CP and also that West Bank Palestinians were not given permits to visit their families in Jerusalem.  We were also told that afternoon lines at the CP are much shorter now because of the new CP for bus passengers.
Later on, Nicole and I went through the CP and joined Natanya on the Jerusalem side.  We saw a Palestinian ambulance arriving from Ramallah refused entrance to Jerusalem and ordered to turn around and wait at a distance.  After about 5 minutes, another ambulance arrived, from Jerusalem.  Only then was the Palestinian ambulance allowed to pass through and transfer its passengers, a girl of 8 with a bandage on her eye accompanied by her mother.  The driver of the Jerusalem ambulance told us that this is the rule:  Palestinian ambulances cannot wait on the Israeli side of the CP for more than 2 or 3 minutes.
We left Qalandiya at 5 PM and returned to Jerusalem via Lil/Jabba and Hizmeh CPs.  Traffic was flowing at both CP's.
   images from phyllis.weisberg@gmail.com 
Qalandiya
Monday afternoon, 27.12.2010
Natanya G., Nicole (a guest) and Phyllis W. (reporting)
 
15:30, Qalandiya:  When we reached Qalandiya, there were two active passageways with small lines in each.  As usual, the CP was dirty and squalid, lit weakly in a manner that doesn't hide the neglect but only highlights it, accentuating the gloominess.  There were very few people in the northern shed, mainly day laborers returning home after a day's work.  It seems that, since opening of the western CP for bus passengers, the livelihood of the peddlers in the shed has collapsed.  On reaching Qalandiya, we managed only to say our good-byes to the coffee-seller who had already packed up his cart and was all but gone.  The candy-man and the corn-vendor held out for another hour.
On entering the CP we met a group of angry people hurrying from Passageway No. 1 to Passageway No. 4.  They told us that after they had stood on line and waited (for varying amounts of time), a soldier had announced over the PA system that the passageway was closed.  Now there was only one active passageway and the line there quickly grew very long.  We called Headquarters and, when that didn't help, the Passageway Unit. This time for a change, the soldier answering the phone didn't hang up on me but explained that one of the soldiers in Passageway 1 (one of three soldiers) had gone to the WC, thereby paralyzing an entire passageway.  But this simple explanation seemed to calm those still waiting in line.
A crippled teen-age girl, leaning on a walker, arrived in Passageway 1 with her mother.  We phoned Headquarters again to ask for help and, unbelievably, after several minutes a female soldier in the aquarium opened the "Humanitarian Gate" and let the two through and out again to Jerusalem.  Natanya accompanied them and, on her way, complimented the soldier on her compassionate behavior.  The soldier, Chen, responded that all soldiers should behave in that manner.  Days of the Messiah! 
Meanwhile, Nicole and I stayed behind and chatted with those standing in line.  They complained about conditions in the CP and also that West Bank Palestinians were not given permits to visit their families in Jerusalem.  We were also told that afternoon lines at the CP are much shorter now because of the new CP for bus passengers.
Later on, Nicole and I went through the CP and joined Natanya on the Jerusalem side.  We saw a Palestinian ambulance arriving from Ramallah refused entrance to Jerusalem and ordered to turn around and wait at a distance.  After about 5 minutes, another ambulance arrived, from Jerusalem.  Only then was the Palestinian ambulance allowed to pass through and transfer its passengers, a girl of 8 with a bandage on her eye accompanied by her mother.  The driver of the Jerusalem ambulance told us that this is the rule:  Palestinian ambulances cannot wait on the Israeli side of the CP for more than 2 or 3 minutes.
We left Qalandiya at 5 PM and returned to Jerusalem via Lil/Jabba and Hizmeh CPs.  Traffic was flowing at both CP's.
 
 images from phyllis.weisberg@gmail.com 
Qalandiya
Monday afternoon, 27.12.2010
Natanya G., Nicole (a guest) and Phyllis W. (reporting)
 
15:30, Qalandiya:  When we reached Qalandiya, there were two active passageways with small lines in each.  As usual, the CP was dirty and squalid, lit weakly in a manner that doesn't hide the neglect but only highlights it, accentuating the gloominess.  There were very few people in the northern shed, mainly day laborers returning home after a day's work.  It seems that, since opening of the western CP for bus passengers, the livelihood of the peddlers in the shed has collapsed.  On reaching Qalandiya, we managed only to say our good-byes to the coffee-seller who had already packed up his cart and was all but gone.  The candy-man and the corn-vendor held out for another hour.
On entering the CP we met a group of angry people hurrying from Passageway No. 1 to Passageway No. 4.  They told us that after they had stood on line and waited (for varying amounts of time), a soldier had announced over the PA system that the passageway was closed.  Now there was only one active passageway and the line there quickly grew very long.  We called Headquarters and, when that didn't help, the Passageway Unit. This time for a change, the soldier answering the phone didn't hang up on me but explained that one of the soldiers in Passageway 1 (one of three soldiers) had gone to the WC, thereby paralyzing an entire passageway.  But this simple explanation seemed to calm those still waiting in line.
A crippled teen-age girl, leaning on a walker, arrived in Passageway 1 with her mother.  We phoned Headquarters again to ask for help and, unbelievably, after several minutes a female soldier in the aquarium opened the "Humanitarian Gate" and let the two through and out again to Jerusalem.  Natanya accompanied them and, on her way, complimented the soldier on her compassionate behavior.  The soldier, Chen, responded that all soldiers should behave in that manner.  Days of the Messiah! 
Meanwhile, Nicole and I stayed behind and chatted with those standing in line.  They complained about conditions in the CP and also that West Bank Palestinians were not given permits to visit their families in Jerusalem.  We were also told that afternoon lines at the CP are much shorter now because of the new CP for bus passengers.
Later on, Nicole and I went through the CP and joined Natanya on the Jerusalem side.  We saw a Palestinian ambulance arriving from Ramallah refused entrance to Jerusalem and ordered to turn around and wait at a distance.  After about 5 minutes, another ambulance arrived, from Jerusalem.  Only then was the Palestinian ambulance allowed to pass through and transfer its passengers, a girl of 8 with a bandage on her eye accompanied by her mother.  The driver of the Jerusalem ambulance told us that this is the rule:  Palestinian ambulances cannot wait on the Israeli side of the CP for more than 2 or 3 minutes.
We left Qalandiya at 5 PM and returned to Jerusalem via Lil/Jabba and Hizmeh CPs.  Traffic was flowing at both CP's.
 
 images from phyllis.weisberg@gmail.com 
Qalandiya
Monday afternoon, 27.12.2010
Natanya G., Nicole (a guest) and Phyllis W. (reporting)
 
15:30, Qalandiya:  When we reached Qalandiya, there were two active passageways with small lines in each.  As usual, the CP was dirty and squalid, lit weakly in a manner that doesn't hide the neglect but only highlights it, accentuating the gloominess.  There were very few people in the northern shed, mainly day laborers returning home after a day's work.  It seems that, since opening of the western CP for bus passengers, the livelihood of the peddlers in the shed has collapsed.  On reaching Qalandiya, we managed only to say our good-byes to the coffee-seller who had already packed up his cart and was all but gone.  The candy-man and the corn-vendor held out for another hour.
On entering the CP we met a group of angry people hurrying from Passageway No. 1 to Passageway No. 4.  They told us that after they had stood on line and waited (for varying amounts of time), a soldier had announced over the PA system that the passageway was closed.  Now there was only one active passageway and the line there quickly grew very long.  We called Headquarters and, when that didn't help, the Passageway Unit. This time for a change, the soldier answering the phone didn't hang up on me but explained that one of the soldiers in Passageway 1 (one of three soldiers) had gone to the WC, thereby paralyzing an entire passageway.  But this simple explanation seemed to calm those still waiting in line.
A crippled teen-age girl, leaning on a walker, arrived in Passageway 1 with her mother.  We phoned Headquarters again to ask for help and, unbelievably, after several minutes a female soldier in the aquarium opened the "Humanitarian Gate" and let the two through and out again to Jerusalem.  Natanya accompanied them and, on her way, complimented the soldier on her compassionate behavior.  The soldier, Chen, responded that all soldiers should behave in that manner.  Days of the Messiah! 
Meanwhile, Nicole and I stayed behind and chatted with those standing in line.  They complained about conditions in the CP and also that West Bank Palestinians were not given permits to visit their families in Jerusalem.  We were also told that afternoon lines at the CP are much shorter now because of the new CP for bus passengers.
Later on, Nicole and I went through the CP and joined Natanya on the Jerusalem side.  We saw a Palestinian ambulance arriving from Ramallah refused entrance to Jerusalem and ordered to turn around and wait at a distance.  After about 5 minutes, another ambulance arrived, from Jerusalem.  Only then was the Palestinian ambulance allowed to pass through and transfer its passengers, a girl of 8 with a bandage on her eye accompanied by her mother.  The driver of the Jerusalem ambulance told us that this is the rule:  Palestinian ambulances cannot wait on the Israeli side of the CP for more than 2 or 3 minutes.
We left Qalandiya at 5 PM and returned to Jerusalem via Lil/Jabba and Hizmeh CPs.  Traffic was flowing at both CP's.
 
 images from phyllis.weisberg@gmail.com 
Qalandiya
Monday afternoon, 27.12.2010
Natanya G., Nicole (a guest) and Phyllis W. (reporting)
 
15:30, Qalandiya:  When we reached Qalandiya, there were two active passageways with small lines in each.  As usual, the CP was dirty and squalid, lit weakly in a manner that doesn't hide the neglect but only highlights it, accentuating the gloominess.  There were very few people in the northern shed, mainly day laborers returning home after a day's work.  It seems that, since opening of the western CP for bus passengers, the livelihood of the peddlers in the shed has collapsed.  On reaching Qalandiya, we managed only to say our good-byes to the coffee-seller who had already packed up his cart and was all but gone.  The candy-man and the corn-vendor held out for another hour.
On entering the CP we met a group of angry people hurrying from Passageway No. 1 to Passageway No. 4.  They told us that after they had stood on line and waited (for varying amounts of time), a soldier had announced over the PA system that the passageway was closed.  Now there was only one active passageway and the line there quickly grew very long.  We called Headquarters and, when that didn't help, the Passageway Unit. This time for a change, the soldier answering the phone didn't hang up on me but explained that one of the soldiers in Passageway 1 (one of three soldiers) had gone to the WC, thereby paralyzing an entire passageway.  But this simple explanation seemed to calm those still waiting in line.
A crippled teen-age girl, leaning on a walker, arrived in Passageway 1 with her mother.  We phoned Headquarters again to ask for help and, unbelievably, after several minutes a female soldier in the aquarium opened the "Humanitarian Gate" and let the two through and out again to Jerusalem.  Natanya accompanied them and, on her way, complimented the soldier on her compassionate behavior.  The soldier, Chen, responded that all soldiers should behave in that manner.  Days of the Messiah! 
Meanwhile, Nicole and I stayed behind and chatted with those standing in line.  They complained about conditions in the CP and also that West Bank Palestinians were not given permits to visit their families in Jerusalem.  We were also told that afternoon lines at the CP are much shorter now because of the new CP for bus passengers.
Later on, Nicole and I went through the CP and joined Natanya on the Jerusalem side.  We saw a Palestinian ambulance arriving from Ramallah refused entrance to Jerusalem and ordered to turn around and wait at a distance.  After about 5 minutes, another ambulance arrived, from Jerusalem.  Only then was the Palestinian ambulance allowed to pass through and transfer its passengers, a girl of 8 with a bandage on her eye accompanied by her mother.  The driver of the Jerusalem ambulance told us that this is the rule:  Palestinian ambulances cannot wait on the Israeli side of the CP for more than 2 or 3 minutes.
We left Qalandiya at 5 PM and returned to Jerusalem via Lil/Jabba and Hizmeh CPs.  Traffic was flowing at both CP's.
 
 

07:00 am, Bethlehem - Checkpoint 300: four positions open, a line of some 20 people at each. About 400 people still wait outside; it takes a pretty long time to get through today. The Palestinians complain. The representative of the Ecumenical says the humanitarian crossing was closed for a while. Our complaint met with the usual response: staff shortages.

 07:45 am, Nashshash:  a large new poster at the traffic circle: “Confront those seeking destruction by establishing new localities.” Is this new?

08:00 am, Etzion DCL:  they're handing out numbers, and even according to the Palestinians' list there are 60 people on line. The policeman will arrive only in the afternoon; one man is waiting for him. People complain they have to come again; last week they waited until 17:00 and left empty-handed.

08:50 am, Beit Ummar:  

09:00 am, Nabi Yunis:  a young man said he has no ID card. He was born in Jerusalem; his family's there. The Ministry of Interior, of course, won't issue him an ID card and the Palestinian Authority sends him to his place of birth, so a 28-year-old man is left with no identity nor possibility of working - nor is he the only one.