'Azzun 'Atma, Habla

This was an ordinary shift, like many others, nothing special. What we are accustomed to call "ordinary occupation".  Even the confiscated pump has become part of the ordinariness.

After the shift, I tried to imagine my life instead of theirs:

05:00.  My husband leaves for work;  maybe he will find someone to employ him today, but it could also be that he will return empty-handed.  I already woke my son up and provided him with a thermos of coffee, with the hope that he might be able to earn 10 shekels for necessities before he comes home to go to school.  My heart goes out to him, so early, it was hard for him to get up, he looks tired. I hope he doesn't fall asleep in class, that he will be able to study properly.  I'm worried, what awaits him in life?  What awaits us?  I think about my life, my poverty, about fences and the lack of hope.

After this, I was frightened, discouraged. I'm no different from them, just accidentally lucky that I am living on the better side of the fence, meanwhile.  People are not meant to live this way, with daily uncertainty, behind fences.  Everyone deserves the minimum:  security, permanent work which is sufficient for living, freedom, a good future for their children.  It's not such a big dream, but enough for me.

06:10  'Azzun 'Atma checkpoint

A lot of people have already passed through, but there are many still in line.  Four coffee kids run around in the area, the smallest looks about 8.  There are 2 inspection booths,and the line moves ahead at a normal rate:  we timed about 17 minutes from the end of the line until the exit from the checkpoint. 

Three people with a lot of packages arrive from the 'Azzun side and are sent to the side of the checkpoint, next to the soldiers station.  They are stopped at a distance from the Palestinian territory, inside the village.  Their friends don't understand why they were detained.  Their documents are being checked.  The soldiers talk among themselves that the police should come and take them.  We contacted Sefa at the DCO, who said that they hadn't caught them in the village, but next to the fence where they intended to sneak in through holes in the fence, so they caught them even before they had committed this crime, because the soldiers know what they intended to do.  They have a body check.  Then their packages are checked.  One bag – 2 pairs of jeans.  Now they are bringing another Palestinian to translate.  The second bag – also clothes and another package of what looks like bricks.  A bag with papers.  A pair of shoes.  And so forth.

07:10  Habla checkpoint

A few people in line, passage is  quick. At a certain point, the line has totally dissolved and then it grows again, but still not long.

07:20  A school bus arrives from Maarav-a-Rimadin for the school in Habla, and goes through right away.

08:00  The gate is closed, no one in line.

The fate of the pump.

The pump for the well, which was donated by the Swedish government for bringing water to the plant nurseries, but was confiscated 2 months ago, has still not been returned.  According to Y., from one of the nurseries, the issue is being treated, today some officials are supposed to come along with the Swedes who made the donation, and he hopes a solution will be found.  The Swedes will provide pipes
and the previous benzine pump will be reinstalled.  The Palestinians have to pay for the days of its storage at the civil administration and the pipes, before it can be given back to them and they also have to give a guarantee that they won't install the new pump before they get the proper permits.  This whole business has been drawn out endlessly and nothing changes and it is not clear to us why it is stuck, because both sides tell a different story.  Sort of like the story of the cutting off of the "peace talks".  We will continue to follow up on the story.

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