Deir Ballut, Checkpoint between Azzun ‘Atma and Beit Amin, Monday, 13.9.04 PMObservers; Ilana Sh., Leah and Dafna B. (reporting)Summary:Deir Ballut – the checkpoint located on the main road between Qalqiliya and Ramallah, closed 10:00-1500 for two weeks now, isolating all the villages in the area. Action must be taken immediately to lift this impossible ban.Azzun ‘Atma – farmers’ gate between the village and its 2 neighbor villages that share common services (school, clinic etc.) should be manned 7-9 a.m.The village is close to Tel Aviv, nearly on the Green Line. The Deputy head of the local council offers to help out with transportation in the morning.Deir Balut12:45 – I have recently heard from people in Deir Ballut that starting September 1st, the barrier on the main road from Qalqiliya to Ramallah and Jerusalem (Apartheid road for Palestinians as it were – at some points it is no more thatn a dirt track) is open from 6 to 10 a.m. and then shut until 3 p.m. It is open again from 3 p.m. and closed at 7 p.m. We arrived and indeed found a closed barrier of barbed-wire spirals spread out on the road and red-white plastic blocks. The 2 reservists on duty (plus the 2 cleaning the Pillbox post) approach us, not understanding what the problem is. They confirm the fact that the barrier is closed from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.. “The Palestinians know, so they don’t come”, say the soldiers in a tone that explains it is perfectly alright to shut down a main thoroughfare daily for 5 hours. I tried to make them see what it would mean in terms of one of Israel’s roads, but for them “this isn’t the same”. We asked what happens in case of an emergency, for we heard from Deir Ballut about such cases that have not been let through. “We use our judgment”, was the answer.After alerting the District Coordination Office (DCO) about it, we were told that the DCO had nothing to do with it. It seems to be an order issued by the Regional commander. Later I received a call from the IWPS (International Women’s Peace Service) that at 3:30 p.m. the barrier was still closed.Azzun ‘Atma – Beit AminOn the road to the settlement Elkana, just before the settlement Shaarei Efrayim, are the blocked approaches to Azzun ‘Atma, a village that is outside the Separation Fence, on the Israeli side. The 3 neighbor villages – Azzun ‘Atma, Beit Amin and Sannirya – are strongly tied by marriage and family bonds. They share high schools and a clinic. Beit Amin and Sannirya are located on the Palestinian side of the Fence and Azzun ‘Atma on the Israeli side. On the road by the barrier, we see an Israeli, helped by 2 Palestinians, loading his van with cucumbers for sale in Israel. He is the only one buying their produce at the moment. A few days ago, a woman of this village went into labor, and had to be taken to hospital or at least to the clinic at Habla. But the barrier was closed and the soldiers could not be awakened. The Paelstinians tried, again and again, in vain. Luckily they called that Israeli who came right away, at night, picked her up and drove the woman (who had to be taken on foot around the barrier) to another hospital in the Westbank. Such is the reality of their life.A week ago the village celebrated a wedding, but since Palestinians are not allowed access, only 21 guests attended that wedding. The unemployment rate in this village is steep, and cars in terrible condition are parked by the barrier across which some of the villagers board cars on the main road and go off to work in Israel. A’ takes us to the barrier. On the way we pass what was once a thriving market: 90% of the shops are closed, only 2 are open – a grocery and a greengrocer’s stand. The local butcher has closed shop and moved to Beit Amin, as his clients could not come over to do their shopping…By the roadside we see the remains of what used to be the adjacent houses of A’ and his brother – now heaps of concrete rubble. In the front yard, a beautiful garden with palm tree, vines, even a small patch of lawn. Evidently someone has invested a lot of love and effort to nurture his own private paradise. But the devil knows no rest, and this is what’s left… It is heart rending! 2 weeks ago, at 3 a.m., when only his brother was home, soldiers came and ordered him to take out the furniture. He asked to call his brother for help so they got angry, shackled him across the road, and ruined his life right there in front of his eyes…On the other side, the high school closed in by the villas of the settlement Shaarei Efrayim that was built adjacent to the school on village land, upon the ruins of the villagers’ houses (A’ points to a concrete-colored patch of dirt in the yard of one of the villas – “See over there? That used to be my uncle’s house”).It won’t take long for the authorities to realize the school has no proper building permit and is stuck there like a thorn in their a–… The outhouse in the schoolyard has already received a demolition order!Down the road, the barrier. Or rather – a yellow “agricultural” gate amidst the fences and security tracks. It separates the villages. Next to the gate flows a stream of sewage. The stench is horrendous. The soldiers bitterly explain that this is the shit of the settlement Shaarei Tiqwa, and they stand guard in it all day long. Not fun!They wonder about us, even seem glad about our visit (they are stuck far away from any Israeli eyes and look absolutely exhausted). They have no idea what the rules are about Israelis moving in the region, for apparently Israelis never come here. They announce that beyond this gate are the “Territories” and that Israelis may not enter the Territories. By order of the Regional Commander, they say. The Palestinians tell us that this shift is okay. They just seem not to have any idea of what they’re doing there and feel stuck because of the “f—–g settlement”.Still, everything is run slow-motion. A car arrives, waits at a distance, is signaled to approach, the soldiers drag themselves over, check papers, then it is allowed to cross. There is not much traffic, about 2 cars a minute, and no lineup. In the morning, on the other hand, the line is long and stressed, crossing very slow. We are asked to come there between 7 and 8 a.m. “If you’ll be here, they’ll check us faster”. As a result of the pressure at the gate, at times teachers get to school only at 9:30 a.m. S., head of the local council, says the DCO had promised to use a list of teachers in the area so they’d be able to reach their classes earlier. The soldiers know nothing of this list. “They are checked and let through like everyone else.”