The way there:

A boy offered cold water bottles for sale to those going to the West Bank. But because of the Jewish holiday of Shavuoth there was closure so no one except for me was crossing and the place was empty of clients. Since he rushes over here after school to help his family’s livelihood, he must have gone home today with absolutely nothing.

I hurried to the fruit stand of the Tamimi family. I was hoping to meet Abdallah or at least hear that was released from jail. Neither happened.

Abdallah is in Ofer prison, said his cousin who replaced him at the stand. No one knows why and for how long. Perhaps he will be back for the Muslim holiday (Eid Al Adha).

All the Palestinians, at least everyone I met, know that the Jews have a holiday, called Shavuoth. They know there is closure. But the fact that Muslims have a holiday called Eid Al Adha that begins in four days, Jews do not know and are not really interested.

As Albert Memmi wrote: The country is run by the traditional – even religious – holidays of the occupier, not of the occupied (free translation, Portrait of the Occupier).

While they wait for prisoners to be released and think of the approaching holiday, I was thinking of cards, of Israel using the lives and deaths of Palestinians as cards, holding thousands of Palestinians alive in prisons in case prisoner exchanges take place for the agreement that Israel will be forced to accept, and keep thousands of bodies in case such an agreement would return for burial the dead hostages, and Israel will be required to return to their families those who died in prison and were not returned for burial – the most recent being Walid Daka whose death caused me too much sorrow.

On the way back:

When I returned to the pedestrian checkpoint in order to cross it, I saw a group of people standing, leaning on the outer walls.

It’s closed, they said. Opened at 5 o’clock.

I came back to the vehicle checkpoint, entered the car of a person who agreed to bring me to the other side of the checkpoint.

I thought that “5 p.m.” was one of those closure procedures. No, said the man – this is always how it is. They do what they want.

Our ride was slow, stopping every meter. The driver was indifferent, while I lost patience and had to force myself not to yell at the soldiers through the window.

When we arrived at the checking post, we handed the soldiers our IDs that were passed from one to the other, from a male soldier to a female soldier, and from her to the female officer. Lieutenant Daniela turned to my window and claimed I was not allowed to be there, on the other side of the checkpoint, which is the “red side”, for this is a closed military zone.

–  It it’s a closed military zone, you must show me a general’s order, I said.

–  There is such an order forbidding Jews to be there, in the red zone, she answered.

–  So show me, I demanded.

Daniela went off, and we – the driver and I – were detained by the soldiers’ post. I offered to get out and he, not connected to the reason we’re detained, could continue on his way. No, said the man, let us wait together.

We did.

After a few minutes, Daniela came back: I don’t have the order now, next time I’ll show it to you. She added: Please understand, we are for human rights, for freedom of movement. But here, on this side of the checkpoint, we are responsible for your security. There, in the red zone, we cannot assure you of this security. This is why you are forbidden to be there.

Okay, I said, only this is not exact – if I were at Nir Oz (one of the Israeli localities invaded during October 7th), which is not the red zone, you would not be responsible for my security either.

There was a pause, Daniela was internalizing this, thinking and digesting my last phrase. Then she raised her eyes to me and said, you’re right. We were free to do.