Bethlehem
Today we carried out our fourth
“expedition” in the Hebron region following the banning
of Palestinian public transportation – in practice, the prohibition
of Palestinian movement – on Road 60, enforced since August 1st.
This tour was coordinated in advance with cab drivers from Halhul
and Beit Omar.
Driving southbound on road 60 from the tunnel road to Halhul we
were confronted by the by now established total absence of
Palestinian vehicles, and consequently by the near absence of
Palestinians: a handful waiting in vain at the roadblocks to the
west of al-Khadr, another handful at the vicinity of Etzion
checkpoint, yet another near Halhul northeastern roadblocks, and
several dozens long distance walkers advancing on the road margins
under the merciless August sun.
We met Nabil, our (tall and handsome) instructor on the first part
of the tour, at an eastern entrance to Halhul, connecting road 60
to a neighbourhood and road known by the name of Nabi-Yunis. The
roadblock that sealed this entrance for over two years was lifted
at the end of July, only to be re-erected and reinforced with
additional rubble and stones three weeks later, that is, last
Thursday (August 21st), following the suicide bombing in Jerusalem.
Just across from there, on the other side of road 60, is the
entrance to Sa’ir village and to the notorious Wadi Sa’ir road,
which was also re-sealed after a three week interval during which
“its” roadblock was removed. In short, two out of dozens,
if not hundreds of roadblocks that the IDF erected around and
between Palestinian locales in the Hebron region were removed for
three weeks; now law and order have been restored: Halhul cabs are
prevented from crossing into Sa’ir, and Sa’ir cabs are prevented
from entering Halhul, passengers and pedestrians climb up and down
the steep obstacles, loaded trucks/lorries must unload goods at the
roadblocks, where they are reloaded “back to back” style
on another vehicle.
We left the car at the front yard of Nabil parents’ house and
joined Nabil in the yellow transit (model 1987, he is not the
owner) on the inner (western) side of Nabi Yunis roadblocks.
Driving through the besieged Halhul, he first took us to the
“bridge” that connects this town with the adjacent (or
rather, attached) Hebron. The bridge is a section of the main road
that runs through both cities (this is the old route of road 60;
during the 1990s “Halhul bypass road” was built to its
east, subsequently becoming the new “road 60”, currently
an Arab free zone), below which lays another bypass road (route 35
to Tarkumya).
The connecting road/bridge was blocked more than two years ago with
a series of three huge rubble-dirt-stone piles spaced at a distance
of approx. 30 meters from each other. The IDF conquered a near-by
Palestinian villa, where soldiers are permanently stationed. This
strategic location facilitates their main function, Nabil
explained, namely, to occasionally prevent the movement through the
blocked bridge of pedestrians as well.
The promised high light of the tour, to remind you, was supposed to
be Haska road, to where we turned soon after. Haska – a very steep
and extremely narrow, approx. 2 km long path that can barely be
called “road” – is the only alternative to the above
described sealed main road. Nabil said that we cannot grasp the
danger and inadequacy of Haska, for the simple reason that Hebron
is currently under curfew. Had we joined him on a day when Hebron
is open, we would have got stuck in Haska for over an hour (there
is not enough room on this road for vehicles coming from opposite
direction). Moreover, as of last week, Haska no longer serves as an
alternative to the sealed bridge, since a freshly re-erected
roadblock on its southern section renders it a dead end. One
implication among many: al-Ahali and Alia, the two central Hebron
hospitals, are not accessible by car from the direction of Halhul.
Nabil himself lost his job as a bus driver with a local company in
the wake of the internal closure. He used to work on a rural route
connecting villages of the western Hebron region with Hebron and
Halhul. The blocking of all entrances to the villages and to the
interconnecting roads prevented the operation of buses altogether.
Over the last two years he drives another person’s transit (inside
the Halhul enclave) for one third of the income, which often
amounts to nothing or near nothing.
Back at the Nabi-Yunis, we bought the undoubtedly most delicious
figs in Palestine from the ten-to-twelve year-old roadblock vendors
and rushed to Beit Omar roadblocks, where we met with Ahmad, a cab
driver and resident of the village. The hour or so we spent with
Ahmad (and his friend, also a cab driver) in his (rapidly aging)
Mercedes left unforgettable impressions.
As reported here again and again Palestinian cab drivers are
forbidden to drive on road 60 (this is the situation for nearly two
years now, with the prohibition recently extended to buses as
well). Consequently, taking passengers from Beit Omar to Etzion
(approximately 2.5 Km – a less than three minute drive – on road
60) can only be carried out through a dirt road that cuts through
(what is left of) Beit Omar’s agricultural land (mainly vines, also
plums and apricots) to the west of road 60.
The dirt road – previously used only by farmers on tractors or
other suitable vehicles – is sewn with stones, bumps and potholes.
Driving is very very slow and raises clouds of dust throughout. The
damage and amortization to cars is enormous; Ahmad says he has to
replace all four wheels every six to eight weeks, and that each
month the Mercedes’ loses large increments of its value. He also
pointed to the damage caused to the agricultural produce, covered
with layers on top of layers of dust; some of the grapes must be
thrown away because the fruit is in such bad shape (Beit Omar was
known for growing the best grapes in Palestine – I am not
exaggerating here, though some other locales may share the title).
It took us approximately 25 minutes to get from the sealed entrance
to Beit Omar to the destination: a roadblock sealing the exit from
the dirt road to Etzion – that is, approximately eight times longer
than the drive on route 60 – and we got covered with dust. At the
blocked exit we met some two dozens Palestinians, mainly women and
children, going down the steep obstacle, sweating and exhausted,
advancing towards the cabs that will take them to Beit Omar. Yet
there were many more empty cabs than passengers, and Ahmad
explained that between 6.30 and 9.30 this morning he has made a
mere 30 shekels (not covering his expenses of course). Although his
overall appearance was tidy, one could clearly notice that Ahmad’s
clothes and shoes are torn. It took us another 25 minutes or so to
get back. On the way Ahmad spoke about yet a worse route: you’ve
seen nothing yet, wait until I take you to the road we use in order
to reach Surif, Nuba and Kharas (three villages to the west of Beit
Omar).
Though we insisted on paying him, Ahmad strongly refused to take
any money for his service. We hope that we will be able to reward
him for this noble gesture on our next week’s tour to Surif, Nuba
and Kharas.