Turnstile

Translator:  Charles K.

14:55  A’anin checkpoint
Four tractors and a few people wait in the rain and cold.  The soldiers open the checkpoint gates exactly at 15:00; people cross quickly.  The driver of the tractor, who told us that 26 farmers from A’anin are allowed to cross through the Shaked-Tura checkpoint when the A’anin checkpoint is closed (cf. report from 29.12.11), said he’d received a new agricultural permit and even took advantage of the opportunity to cross through the Tura checkpoint.  He said he was even allowed to go through in his car, which shortens the trip from A’anin to the checkpoint from an hour and a half (by tractor) to 25 minutes (by car).  He doesn’t know whether other farmers from A’anin crossed at Tura.

15:25  Shaked-Tura checkpoint
Little traffic at this hour, either vehicles or pedestrians.

A resident of Tura whose home is located right next to the checkpoint is employed there as a janitor by a Palestinian company.  He cleans six checkpoints, from Jubara near Tulkarm to Shaked-Tura, and earns only NIS 2000/month and NIS 700 car allowance.  He has land in the seam zone but usually gets a permit only during the olive harvest.  His brother has a shop in Barta’a, but he can’t a permit to work and remain there.  He’s allowed to enter the seam zone only as far as the concrete barriers before the checkpoint.  He says he isn’t granted a permit because he objected to the demolition of a porch and uprooting of cypress trees in front of his house when the separation fence was erected.  His opposition succeeded; the fence was erected without damaging the porch or the trees, but his freedom of movement and income were curtailed.

16:00  Reihan-Barta’a checkpoint, the seam zone side
A pickup truck and a few cars wait to cross to the seam zone.

Laborers come down through the fenced corridor and immediately go through the terminal.  Beautiful, proud female students return from class on the West Bank.  Two guys carry a large carton containing a 42” flat-screen TV.  The gate is opened for them because of the TV set, so they don’t have to go through the revolving gate.  But an old woman carrying two large sacks doesn’t get the same treatment; people on line help her take her sacks through the revolving gate.  Some families with small children cross in either direction, perhaps because schools are on vacation.  Three children on their way to the West Bank are trapped in the revolving gate.  Their mother remained behind.  In response to our request, the person conducting the inspections released the gate and let the mother in as well.

When two windows are open in the terminal, there’s almost no line.  When the terminal is congested, at about 16:30, and one of the windows closes for a short time, a line of 30-40 people forms.  Our phone call to the person in charge apparently helps; the second window reopens and the line quickly disappears.

17:00  We leave the checkpoint as the laborers continue to come down through the fenced corridor, many carrying sacks of oranges.  The scent of citrus is intoxicating.

Translation: Ruth Fleishman

We were last in line, waiting for the turnstiles to open so that we could pass into the inner inspection area. Neither we nor the people before us had noticed that the soldiers' post had been abandoned and the revolving mechanism was disconnected. Only one child who had passed through the gate before his mother had, stood on the other side, all alone, there was no going forward or backward. The child was entrapped.
During the first moments the child smiled with embarrassment, and then the smile was replaced by a worried gaze. He brought his body closer to his mother who was standing on the other side of the metal bars, took her hand and grabbed it tightly like a life preserving anchor.
The Palestinians, who are used to the arbitrariness by which the place is run, moved to the parallel inspection lane with acceptance. We stayed with the mother, cetin that within a minute or two the problem would be resolved. After all everything that happens in the checkpoint is filmed and broadcasted live to the plasma screens of those who run the site.
We were wrong.

The tears that started streaming down the cheeks of the child caused us to hurry and make some calls. We thought that as soon as we inform the hot lines the child would be released.
We were wrong again.

They all gave us the same answer: "I'm making inquiries".
We called again: "I'm making inquiries".
After twenty minutes, after having promised the mother and her son that "any moment now…"- "they will just look at their camera and someone will come and press the button…", "But I've only now explained to them, they are making inquiries and it will all be alright…", we understood that there was no telling how long the child will remain entrapped and detached from his mother, and Roni went to the parallel lane to request the help of the soldier sitting there, while I stayed with the mother and kept trying to talk to the people at the hot lines who over and over again could understand and connected me with the officer in charge, who also didn't understand and we ended up having an incomprehensive dialog.
-    The officer: "what is the name of his mother?"
-    Me: "I don't know"
-    The officer: "how will I identify him?"
-    Me: "He has two legs… why do you need to identify him?- just let go!!"
-    The officer: "wait, I don't understand, explain again, is he in the red zone?- where does he want to go to?"

Nearly thirty minutes later a solider from the offices was sent to press the releasing button. But before pressing he insisted on explaining that actually: "the child is to blame. He shouldn't have passed to the other side on his own". Not only was it the victims fault, but it was possible to prolong his suffering and put forth the occupier's narrative.

No one believes the Palestinians. That's why they are always equipped with a bundle of documents that prove their disabilities, their situation and their very existence.
Such was the 71 year old person from Jerusalem, a disabled and sick man who has difficulty walking and waiting in the cramped lines of Qalandiya only makes it harder for him.
The man presented before us his disability certificate, as proof of his bad health and told us how he is mistreated at the passage for residents of Jerusalem, where in spite regulations that allow the disabled elderly and pregnant women to remain seated in the bus, he is force to come down, walk to the pedestrians' checkpoint, stand in line, pass the turnstiles and be inspected (again) by the soldier.
"Write down what I'm telling you. Write it down"- he asked.

Translation: Bracha B.A.

15:13 – A'anin Checkpoint
The gates are open and people and tractors are passing through.  Three girls from the Bedouin clan, who live beneath the checkpoint, whom we know and see many mornings while they wait for their ride to school, are dressed up to greet their uncle who is coming from A'anin.   He does not arrive, and the soldiers tell us that even if he does come he cannot cross to the seamline zone at this hour. 

 Two young men whose permits have expired on December 31^st, 2011 are debating whether to go home through A'anin checkpoint or to go with us to the Reihan checkpoint.  The checkpoint commander, a staff sergeant, promises us that he will let them through and not confiscate their ID cards if they are "not criminals."   The two young men enter the area between the two gates and the first sergeant and the policewoman begin to call and check. At 15:45 two farmers arrive and cross through.  The checkpoint is open until 16:00.  At 16:00 one of the young men is released and allowed to go home.  The gates of the checkpoint are closed.   We wait until 16:15, when the other young man is allowed to leave.

16:25 – Shaked-Tura Checkpoint
A few workers, a car, two trucks and a donkey and wagon cross to the West Bank.  A family crosses to the seamline zone. 

16:50 – Reihan Barta'a Checkpoint - The Seamline Zone Side
Three vehicles and their passengers are waiting to cross to the West Bank.  Workers are entering the sleeve carrying bags of oranges.  There is no line at the entrance to the terminal.  Four detainees are waiting on the bench and two windows are operating.  Occasionally the clerk at the windows deal with students and families going towards the seamline zone and a line builds up but quickly disappears again.  One of the people passing through marvels that "they are working nicely".   We notice that the upper arms of the turnstile at the entrance have been covered with black rubber to prevent possible injuries to people passing through.

At 17:15 we left, but workers continued to arrive.   There are still three cars waiting to cross to the West Bank.  The bus from the "Shomron Development Company crosses to the seamline zone without being stopped.  

Translated by Dvora K.

15.05 A'anin CP

Soldiers are busy opening the gates of the CP. Fewer than 20 people and a tractor are waiting for the opening. Later another few dozen joined them.

The procedures at the front of the CP: One by one people come up to the woman soldier in a very orderly manner. The soldier, working methodically, receives the permit and the number of the resident. Without any excess words, she makes a note on the pages in her hand and reads the name of the next person. If, God forbid, two people start to come towards her, she stops one of them saying, in Arabic: "one at a time, one at a time," and that's that. The second person goes back. At her side there is an armed soldier with his gun turned to the residents. He stands in different places, but his arms are always in the right direction.

Nobody knows when the olive-picking will end. Don't worry, the DCO will tell them!!

Shafik, the nice old man with the old donkey, as old as he is, who stubbornly persisted in getting to his grove, does not come any more. His donkey was stolen and his children come in his stead.

15:30 People are arriving at the CP all the time. We left.

15:40 Shaked-Tura CP

The CP is empty and deserted. A little boy from the isolated house goes through with his cart to the West Bank. Apart from him no one comes to the CP. That went on for ten minutes of our stay there. From every point of view, this CP is like a bone stuck in the residents' throats. It is so out of place. It arouses so much anger.

A bus of the Council for the Development of Samaria emerges from the Shaked road. We will see it at the Reihan CP and there we will discover, on its back end, a sign inviting people to tour Samaria, to become acquainted with the Land of Israel. That is what it says.

16:00 – 16;45 New Barta'a CP

At this time workers are returning to the West Bank and we wait with them at the opening of the terminal. They are tired, stand quietly and patiently on the queue that is too long. The turnstile opens only for a few seconds and people get stuck with their bodies half in and half out. They continue talking to one another while the turnstile presses down and separates them. The woman who works at the reception window makes sure that not too many people stand nearby.

At a certain point the manager, Sharon, arrives and opens an additional window. For a few minutes, it seems that things flow, in the full sense of the word. But Sharon is a very busy man, and he leaves the matter in the hands of one of his assistants and goes off. Within a few minutes, everything is a mess as it was before.

Why must they use this turnstile? Why isn't it possible to operate more than one window when there is pressure? What are all the workers doing in the parking lot that is reserved for them (we counted 23 in only one corner of this gigantic CP)? What are they doing there?

The national park, "Reihan Pass", is developing. Every square centimeter is calculated and planned thoroughly. Does the Council for the Development of Samaria bring tours here as well? What do the owners of the land think when they see this exaggerated attention to fostering this monstrous thing on their land? Who cares? They do not count anyway.

Translation: Bracha B.A.

A'anin Checkpoint, 15:00

The gate opens precisely on time and there is a considerable number of people waiting to return to the village. Most are young people hired to work in the olive harvest by people who own the groves. Also waiting are two tractors loaded with sacks of olives and tins of oil. The gate is open only wide enough to allow one person to pass. There is a coil of barbed wire hanging from one of the gates which is sure to injure someone who is passing through the narrow opening. On the other hand, there is no barbed wire along the entire upper part of the gate. When we mentioned this to the soldiers they said that it was not their concern – their job is to see to security, not to the safety of the Palestinians crossing the fence. The soldiers behaved insolently. One of them, a religious soldier carrying a weapon continued to eat sunflower seeds and spit the shells out while he was attending to the people at the checkpoint.

Apparently every one of the Palestinians was supposed to know their number on the list and to tell the woman soldier who is checking documents. When someone arrived and asked who was last in line, he was told, "you are". Someone took the initiative and collected everyone's documents and organized the line. An unpleasant incident occurred when one of the tractor drivers arrived with bags of olives and a bag of meat that he had received from a relative in Um Reihan for the approaching holiday. The soldiers did not permit him to bring in the meat because A'anin is an agricultural checkpoint [and it is permitted to transport only agricultural produce]. This is similar to another incident that we heard about several months ago. The solution, as before, was to return the meat to the relative in Um Reihan and bring it in at the Shaked-Tura Checkpoint, where there is a road to A'anin. This is all for the security of the State of Israel…)

Shaked-Tura Checkpoint 15:40

We were there for a short time. One man and a student passed from the seamline zone. We returned to A'anin to observe the closing of the gates. The soldiers called for several young people approaching the gate to hurry and then closed the gate. They then opened the gate again so that they could drive through in their Hummer. The red-headed tractor driver with his bags of olives also drove through.

Reihan-Barta'a Checkpoint, 16:40

When we first arrived the checkpoint was empty. After a few minutes the wave of workers from the seamline zone arrived. We descended the sleeve and saw about 40 people crowded around the turnstile at the entrance and about 20 people inside next to the two windows which were open. When they were done the turnstile opened again and only four people were let in. The next time the turnstile opened seven people were let in, and then one of the windows closed, the turnstile remained closed for a long time, and a crowd accumulated at the turnstile.

With difficulty we managed to attract the attention of one of the workers in the terminal and to help a woman and girl caught inside at the crowded entrance. Soon there were about 200 people crowded at the entrance. Meanwhile about a dozen men and women exited the turnstile in the direction of the seamline zone, temporarily blocking the turnstile for workers going to the West Bank. People became very angry and we couldn't find out what was going on. Someone said that there was an ambulance on the other side of the checkpoint. We thought about going to the lower parking lot but on the way we met a man who asked us to help him get through the pedestrian crossing at the vehicle checkpoint. He has a heart problem and did not feel well going through the crowd in the sleeve. We did not succeed because the man had no medical permit allowing him to go through the pedestrian crossing. He said that two days ago the terminal was also crowded and they had let people cross at the pedestrian crossing. Today they did not permit it. The guard said that the crowd was dispersing and we had to send the man to go through the regular way through the sleeve. We attempted to call Sharon, the manager of the checkpoint, but could not reach him. He eventually returned our call when we were already on our way home and said that the checkpoint was less crowded.

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.

06:05  A’anin checkpoint

The checkpoint gates are open.  About 20 farmers from the village of A’anin cross to the seam zone on foot and by tractor.  One shows us his son’s valid crossing permit, but the soldiers don’t let the son through because his photo doesn’t come up on the computer.  The father went to the Salem DCO where they told him his son had to come too.  He doesn’t want to miss a day of school.  The children of the Bedouin family that lives in the wadi below the checkpoint arrive on their donkeys and wait for their ride to school in Umm Reihan.

06:30  As in the familiar children’s song, “Everyone crosses, everyone crosses – except the last one,” a resident of A’anin is the last one, his information checked and for some reason he has to return home.

The gates are locked.

06:35 – Shaked-Tura checkpoint

The checkpoint gates are locked and there still aren’t any soldiers on site.  We understood, and the DCO confirmed, that the checkpoint’s hours reverted to what they were before – 07:00-10:00, 12:00-21:30.

06:45  On our way east we pass the Reihan-Barta’a checkpoint.  Laborers are coming from the terminal to the upper parking lot.  Their rides are waiting for them.  Seven trucks and pickups, and one Transit, all loaded with produce, wait at the closed vehicle checkpoint on their way to the seam zone.  About a dozen cars are parked south of Zabde in the locked parking lot, on the road to Qafin and Tulkarm.  Another car is parked on the northern side, on the road to Zabde.

06:55  Dothan checkpoint is open and unmanned at this hour.

07:05  Reihan-Barta’a checkpoint

Laborers arrive in vehicles and on foot and enter the terminal in groups of five without anyone telling them to do so – they already know.  A few cross to the West Bank.

Five cars have already gone through the vehicle checkpoint on their way to be inspected and then to the seam zone.  The trucks and the pickups are still waiting at the closed checkpoint.

07:20  Shaked-Tura checkpoint

We arrived at the same time as the little children who go to school in Tura.  They run to the checkpoint and stop to have their satchels inspected.  One little girl runs happily in the opposite direction, to her grandfather who’d crossed from Tura to the seam zone.  She gives him a big hug and he lifts her up into his arms.

One man complains about the change in the hours the checkpoint is open.  The hours for the pupils again conflict with the hours for the farmers and other workers. 

The herd of goats arrives from one side and the children from the isolated house come from the other.  About twenty people wait at the inspection building to cross to the seam zone.  The process is slow.

07:40  As we leave thegoats still haven’t crossed, and there’s still a long line at the entrance to the inspection building.

13:00 A'neen checkpoint