Ar-Ram, Qalandiya, Wed. 16.11.05 a.m. Observers: Nava E, Noam D (reporting)Wednesday, early in the morning, 5:30, we left Jerusalem by way of Beit Hanina, but actually we had no time left because the route of the annexation continues well beyond the recognized borders. The view one of filth and neglect. I was certain that at such an early hour, there would be no one up and about. 6:45 – Ar-Ram We got to the checkpoint amidst rain flurries. There was tremendous traffic — 25 cars waiting at any point and the checking was very slow. Everything was grey — even the green soldiers. The road was packed with cars and no patience — total chaos in the intersection. The “new” road to Atarot has been transformed into an even worse passway. One must carry out a kind of u-turn. The noise from the digging is shattering to the ears. Filth in every corner.7:30 – We got to the checkpoint and went through the turnstiles toward Ramallah to the internal checkpoint for cars. There was not a lot of traffic, but the soldiers worked very slowly. There were two male soldiers and two female ones who were making little effort to speed up the traffic. Near them, a soldier with the rank of sergeant was walking around — later on we learned that he was the commander of the checkpoint. He had an interesting way of pasing the time and at the same time, to teach the naughty Palestinians a lesson. He covered his face with a scarf — it was cold and there was no sun so he couldn’t hide himself behind sunglasses. He mumbled at us “Whores, daughters of whores”. A few minutes later, he signalled to the car opposite him to go back. We were convinced that the car lacked the proper papers but we were wrong. The sergeant order him to go back — which was impossible — and the car almost bumped into some concrete posts and then he signalled him to return. We thought that he realized that reversing was impossible and would allow him to turn around at the checkpoint itself, but that’s not what happened. He checked the papers and allowed the car to pass. What happened. We understood that this was his little game. He was the master and he had not yet given the signal to the car to approach. The driver was punished and sent back until told to come forward by the flick of a finger, he was allowed to draw near, to travel, to breathe to live. I was frightened to think of who was sitting near the driver. The mother, the little son saw him humiliated again today. He grows up in the understanding that there is no possibility of honor and freedom. My stomach was turning over — ready to explode.I asked the sergeant for his details. He knows as well as I, better than I, that he is not required to give me his details. He has all the power. “Call the army spokesperson if you want”. I didn’t want to but I called again and again until I got an answer. Afterwards, they got back to me three times in order to hear the whole story and to understand more details about the soldier. The situation was not serious enough for the newspaper. Unfortunately, all these small infractions are not sufficiently relevant. …The soldiers were bothered by our presence and spoke among themselves about these tedious women who interfere with their work. A group of tourists passed through with placards. The soldier checked to see if we were listening to sentences around. “Is it the practice to shoot at photographers”. “Why do they behave as if they have come to visit India”.8:15 – We came back. Our i.d.’s were checked and we met a group of hikers who arrived from Europe to foster reconciliation in the land. They were going from place to place and we conversed with them. Complaints: A Palestinian complained that on October 20th, during Ramadan, a jeep tried to run him down. The details were already given to one of us. Another Palestinian, whose name was listed by the GSS wanted to know how to approach them for reprieve. If someone knows more than I about how to go about this, I would appreciate their help. 9:15 – We went back by way of Atarot. The traffic was light. As we approached Israel’s eternal capital it appeared as if nothing had happened. Everything was clear as wine. But not exactly — not really.