Hamra, Tayasir, Sun 14.10.07, Afternoon
10:30 Shavei Shomron Checkpoint
10:40 Zaatra Checkpoint
11:30 Hamra Checkpoint
13:45 Tayasir Checkpoint
Meanwhile, vehicles arrived, were checked, and moved on. He returned to say that his commander told him that, as far as he knows, the permissible place for us is by the electric box, somewhere which does not bring us nearer, does not permit listening or ease observation. Daphna insists on our regular place. After a short verbal confrontation, he invites us to his hut (the vehicle checking point). We refuse and insist on our "permanent" place. And then he waves a hand in the direction of our rocks, shrugs, turns and walks back to his post. At 14:05 we sit on the rocks.
The checkpoint is orderly and sophisticated. There is a traffic light, the angle of the spikes can be changed by remote control, there is an x-ray machine. The soldiers call people forward, "tlate, tlate" by threes, instead of "wahad, wahad" one at a time.
A taxi driver who passed tells us that since this unit has arrived the soldiers are better, "bigger" (presumably he means older). They will be here a month and then their predecessors will return [how does he know that?].
Eyal, Sun 14.10.07, Morning
6:30 am
There are only a few workers crossing today because Id al Fitr, the festival at the close of Ramadan starts. There is no pressure and no complaints are heard.
Beit Iba, Jit, Qalqiliya, Sun 14.10.07, Afternoon
Summary:
Today’s shift served as a disturbing reminder of the ubiquity of man's inhumanity to man, and what Arendt called the “banality of evil.” Today was the last day of Eid el Fitr, the three day festival celebrating the end of Ramadan, a time for joyous celebrations with families, a time of festivities and merriment, visits to the homes of friends and relatives with new clothes for everybody and gifts for the children. And the occupying forces -- what knowledge or deference did they show for this, one of the two most important festivals in the Muslim calendar? When, if ever, had they been taught that everybody is of equal worth and deserves equal respect? When, if ever, had they encountered bigotry and prejudice in their own lives (forgetting, of course their own thousands of years old history)? Instead, the occupier seemed to savor the idea that families are divided, and that family members are denied entry to join in the celebrations. If only these revelations would make “countless thousands mourn” (Robert Burns).
13:30 Qalqiliya
The parking area is filled with Palestinian Israeli cars, families visiting families for the last day of Eid el Fitr, forced to leave their cars behind, cross the checkpoint on foot or, if lucky, in a passing taxi. The Border Police say that “only cars with permits can go through.” Cars with Israeli number plates (yellow) are checked against a list, or the numbers are phoned in, or the numbers are written down; there seems little rhyme or reason to who is told what, and we see many drivers trying to “negotiate” their way into the city. Many are told to turn around, to leave their vehicles in the parking lot. The cars are filled with families, old and young members dressed in holiday finery, cars often packed with presents. The mood is generally cheerful even though trunks are checked and blue (Israeli) IDs examined. The whole process is a laborious one. On the other hand, packed taxis sail by the checkpoint.
14:00 -- a driver with a U.S. passport, and his local family (the older woman looks like a Druze) is refused entry with his car, turns and goes to the parking lot, or gives up: we’re not certain what option he chooses. A Palestinian Israeli family, smiling cheerfully, leave for home, from the parking lot, saying they had a good time with relatives in the city, in spite of the inconvenience and trouble at the checkpoint. A last thought: just whose security is the occupier supposedly minding?
14:10-14:45 On the way from Qalqiliya to Beit Iba
Just before Fonduk village, a blue police jeep and a Hummer off the roadway and an army sharpshooter, gun pointing towards an olive grove, off to the northern side of the road. Part of the ban against picking olives, except on days ordained by the occupier (that we hear about later)?
Just before Kedumim, on the southern side of the road, large banners, in Hebrew, have been painted, and attached to trees. We don’t catch the words but a group of settler youth, including young women, stream down the hillside towards the roadway. Sure enough, on turning a bend in the road, we spy a “deserted” Palestinian house, now covered with bright blue plastic and next to it what looks like a tent on the side. Hill top youth takeover?
14:30 Jit Junction
The army has arrived and is about to create a checkpoint. The paraphernalia of temporary checkpoints is carried by one soldier from one place at the junction to another. Where can they cause the most trouble? Read on, one hour or so later….
14:45 Beit Iba
The new multi-lane checkpoint’s roadways and sidewalks have been defined (no work going on today); the quarry is now fenced in, the dust as ever, although today, the last day of Eid el Fitr, it’s not working, nor are the Huwwash Carpentry brothers. The checkpoint is not crowded with the usual passers by, but by families, all dressed up, the men often with white or pastel colored shirts, often with ties, the women in their best robes, the young women in colorful new attire (and headscarves), the children in gorgeous, over the top outfits, complete with cowboy style silver or gold riding boots! Sometimes, it happens that people are all dressed up and have nowhere to go: a car is turned back by the occupier at the checkpoint, and has to turn round, back to Nablus. No dispensation for anybody who’s a Palestinian just because it’s a holiday!
In the detention compound of old, one well dressed young man who signs to us that he’s been there for three hours. Two and a half hours is confirmed by the commander, E., who has no idea why he’s detained: “that was by the shift before mine… I was told just to watch over him.” We voice our assumption that he’s being checked. “Checked?” says E. in disbelief, “What for?” We persist, and make another assumption, also proven wrong by E., that the young man is being punished. “Of course not,” says E., but I will hold him until 3:00.” The banality of evil surely starts in a similar way….
One of the soldiers at the checkpoint shouts at passers by, pokes into their handbags, plastic bags full of presents, shouts at us too: “Surely we’re afraid of a ‘tractor,’ laden with explosives at the checkpoint?” And if we ask the soldier questions, he has a right to question us. It takes his commander to deescalate this loudmouthed solider, so he again proceeds to shout at the Palestinians coming through the turnstiles.
15:00 -- the commander is on the phone, we hear him asking if there’s “authorization to release” the detainee. He does so, and the young man makes his belated way towards the city.
15:30 -- on this last day of the three day festival, there are not so many people, going in or coming out of the city of Nablus, but we hear of two to three hour waits on the first two days of the Eid here. Even today, the line is very slow. A warm greeting to and from one of our local butchers from Jaffa, with his five beautifully dressed children, wife and an enormous present (looks like a surf board, for which there might not be much use in Nablus). Of course the soldier insists on taking a peep, tearing the colorful wrapping paper. A last glimpse at the good nature of the festive-minded and abominably treated passers by: two young boys with cartoon masks over their faces. “Halloween!” they call to us cheerfully, and they and their mother insist we take their photos.
Olive picking and Deir Sharaf
The “city hall” of Deir Sharaf was issued an order, by the occupier, two days ago that olive picking on the southern side of Route 60, below the settlement of Shavei Shomron could take place only on 16, 17 and 18 October. We wonder (not very deeply) where such an order emanated from, since it’s the settlement’s new “security” road that led to the uprooting of hundreds of Deir Sharaf’s olive trees, now fenced in and hard to access.
16:00 Jit Junction
There are 25 vehicles on the hill leading up to the junction on Route 55. Four soldiers man the checkpoint only at this part of the junction, so there is chaos, buses coming from the Qalqiliya direction, vehicles coming from the southern side of Nablus, all converging, and settler vehicles squeezing by. The situation is aided and abetted by one of the four soldiers being extremely aggressive and hostile. We see him hit a taxi driver who’s been told, not only to open the trunk of his car, but to expose its underbelly. As the soldier hits the taxi driver, he throws the carpet covering the spare tire back into the body of the car, meanwhile shouting at us, as we’re observing this scene, that we’re holding up traffic! The Palestinians are patient with each other, with us, but another taxi driver laments, “is this any way to spend a festival?” Indeed…
Beit Iba, Sun 14.10.07, Afternoon
Summary:
Today’s shift served as a disturbing reminder of the ubiquity of man's inhumanity to man, and what Arendt called the “banality of evil.” Today was the last day of Eid el Fitr, the three day festival celebrating the end of Ramadan, a time for joyous celebrations with families, a time of festivities and merriment, visits to the homes of friends and relatives with new clothes for everybody and gifts for the children. And the occupying forces -- what knowledge or deference did they show for this, one of the two most important festivals in the Muslim calendar? When, if ever, had they been taught that everybody is of equal worth and deserves equal respect? When, if ever, had they encountered bigotry and prejudice in their own lives (forgetting, of course their own thousands of years old history)? Instead, the occupier seemed to savor the idea that families are divided, and that family members are denied entry to join in the celebrations. If only these revelations would make “countless thousands mourn” (Robert Burns).
14:45 Beit Iba
The new multi-lane checkpoint’s roadways and sidewalks have been defined (no work going on today); the quarry is now fenced in, the dust as ever, although today, the last day of Eid el Fitr, it’s not working, nor are the Huwwash Carpentry brothers. The checkpoint is not crowded with the usual passers by, but by families, all dressed up, the men often with white or pastel colored shirts, often with ties, the women in their best robes, the young women in colorful new attire (and headscarves), the children in gorgeous, over the top outfits, complete with cowboy style silver or gold riding boots! Sometimes, it happens that people are all dressed up and have nowhere to go: a car is turned back by the occupier at the checkpoint, and has to turn round, back to Nablus. No dispensation for anybody who’s a Palestinian just because it’s a holiday!
In the detention compound of old, one well dressed young man who signs to us that he’s been there for three hours. Two and a half hours is confirmed by the commander, E., who has no idea why he’s detained: “that was by the shift before mine… I was told just to watch over him.” We voice our assumption that he’s being checked. “Checked?” says E. in disbelief, “What for?” We persist, and make another assumption, also proven wrong by E., that the young man is being punished. “Of course not,” says E., but I will hold him until 3:00.” The banality of evil surely starts in a similar way….
One of the soldiers at the checkpoint shouts at passers by, pokes into their handbags, plastic bags full of presents, shouts at us too: “Surely we’re afraid of a ‘tractor,’ laden with explosives at the checkpoint?” And if we ask the soldier questions, he has a right to question us. It takes his commander to deescalate this loudmouthed solider, so he again proceeds to shout at the Palestinians coming through the turnstiles.
15:00
The commander is on the phone, we hear him asking if there’s “authorization to release” the detainee. He does so, and the young man makes his belated way towards the city.
15:30
On this last day of the three day festival, there are not so many people, going in or coming out of the city of Nablus, but we hear of two to three hour waits on the first two days of the Eid here. Even today, the line is very slow. A warm greeting to and from one of our local butchers from Jaffa, with his five beautifully dressed children, wife and an enormous present (looks like a surf board, for which there might not be much use in Nablus). Of course the soldier insists on taking a peep, tearing the colorful wrapping paper. A last glimpse at the good nature of the festive-minded and abominably treated passers by: two young boys with cartoon masks over their faces. “Halloween!” they call to us cheerfully, and they and their mother insist we take their photos.
Olive picking and Deir Sharaf
The “city hall” of Deir Sharaf was issued an order, by the occupier, two days ago that olive picking on the southern side of Route 60, below the settlement of Shavei Shomron could take place only on 16, 17 and 18 October. We wonder (not very deeply) where such an order emanated from, since it’s the settlement’s new “security” road that led to the uprooting of hundreds of Deir Sharaf’s olive trees, now fenced in and hard to access.
See also Qalqiliya report of 14 October afternoon for disturbances during olive picking.
Eyal, Sun 14.10.07, Morning
Eyal check-point
6:30am- A few workmen are crossing for work today, due to the Holiday (Id El Peter). It is calm and there are no complaints.
7:00am- Due to the Holiday very few people are passing through the check-point.
A female soldier with a dog is checking an empty bus thoroughly in the presence of the unhappy driver. The dog is jumping on the seats and sniffing the bus's ceiling.
The soldiers are uncomfortable with our presence so an officer is coming to ask us to leave. An argument is erupted, the police are called but we remain to observe.
The dog handler is wiping the bus's seats while the driver is protesting against the search of his bus.
Due to the reduced activity we decide to leave after a short while.
On Road 57 we are stopped by a few families that were hoping to pick olives on their land. Apparently they were not allowed access to their field because they did not have a permit.
Soldiers in a "Hummer" which is close by tell us that the order is to prevent olive picking in proximity of the settlements, and that the days allocated for picking olives start on the 15/10/07.
We call the Humanitarian center, Naomi, Zachariah, to the Liaison & Coordination Administration but to no avail.
The soldier is arguing with the family that their land is his. He tells them to pick up their belonging and leave. They climb on the tractor to go back home. This puts an end to the celebration of the first olive picking day.
The field owner tells us he had permit for the fenced field near "Shave-Shomron" but didn't get a permit to the field that was farther away.
A person from another family said the announcement at the mosque said today was the beginning of the picking season.
We waited together for a while for a reasonable explanation to be made by the LCA or any other body we have contacted. When such reply didn't come the families decided to go back home as the babies and children were getting restless.
In the background "Hummers" and other army cars were circling around announcing their mighty presence.
'Anabta, Ar-Ras, Jubara (Kafriat), Sun 14.10.07, Afternoon
Summary
Today's shift served as a disturbing reminder of the ubiquity of man's inhumanity to man, and what Arendt called the "banality of evil." Today was the last day of the three day festival celebrating the end of Ramadan, Eid el Fitr, a time for joyous celebrations with families, a time of festivities and merriment, visits to the homes of friends and relatives with new clothes for everybody and gifts for the children. And the occupying forces, what knowledge or deference did they show for this, one of the two most important festivals in the Muslim calendar? When, if ever, had they been taught that everybody is of equal worth and deserves equal respect? When, if ever, had they encountered bigotry and prejudice in their own lives (forgetting, of course, their own thousands of years old history)? Instead, the occupier seemed to savor the idea that families are divided, and that family members are denied entry to join in the celebrations. If only these revelations would make "countless thousands mourn" (Robert Burns) when shown a portrait of "man's inhumanity to man."
16:45 Anabta
The bright red sign telling us, in English, Arabic and Hebrew, that Israelis can go no further as beyond lies "Area ?" , a blank, greets us. We note, however, that a handwritten sign is propped up against one of the checking posts, in the middle of the roadway, and written, in Hebrew only, is that "Area A" is ahead…..
The vehicles, taxis, private cars and buses that want to enter Tulkarm whiz by in the gloom of the early darkness. None are checked. As usual, the line from Tulkarm stretches far into the distance, and, again, as usual, many are checked. A carload of festival revellers, on their way to Tulkarm, tell us that it's already taken them three hours from Ramallah. Why? Because of the numerous checkpoints, because of the hardheartedness of the occupier whose only holidays and festivals are his own.
17:10 Gate 753
Here the revellers are the three soldiers who sit around idling the time away – smoking and making it clear to us that they have neither time nor interest in returning our greeting.
Ar Ras
Such a beautiful and heartrending sight greets us here: the sun setting behind the razor wire. Here the soldiers don't return our greeting. Instead, they initiate it (and they don't smoke on the job)! Few passing cars, several are checked, the solider at the checking post calling in IDs, but delay is but for a couple of minutes.
17:20 Gate 753 again
On our way back, there's a delay. The now non–smoking soldiers hold up a truck and cause a back up of vehicles and pedestrians coming out of Jubara. It's now dark, there are no lights until we come to the brightly lit up entry way to Israel:
Jubara
Here we've been told, only a short while ago, before heading up to the village, that we can't go to A-Ras, but then, the magic word, "Watch?" falls from the soldier's mouth in the form of a question, and we're on our way.
Abu Dis, Sheikh Saed, Sun 14.10.07, Afternoon
Arrived at Sheikh Saed at about 14:15. It was very quiet. There were two border police and a female DCL person. The two border police were good cop, bad cop. One was pleasant and accommodating and the other crude and nasty. There was a very unpleasant instance when a young woman (with a blue ID), her three young children, her husband (with a green ID) and her mother-in law - (green ID) wanted to visit the young woman's mother who had just had surgery and who lived in Jebel Mukaber about a 5 minute walk from the checkpoint. The woman and her children were allowed through. Her husband and mother-in-law were not. They pleaded to be allowed just two hours to visit family, but the border policeman shouted at them about the need to observe the rules. The woman could not control her distress.
Given what is going on throughout the occupied territories, this instance was perhaps just a minor inconvenience but it is indicative of the meaningless, cruel, hurtful quality of life those under occupation are regularly subjected to.
A young man near the shops told us that contractors are very active trying to get the age for permits for Palestinians lowered to 30 because they are fed up with foreign workers and want the Palestinians back. We don't know if that is so or if it is merely wishful thinking.
We continued on to Abu-Dis. It appears that there is more building around the Moskowitz settlement. The wall near the building appears to have been lengthened. Also, the dirt road leading to and beyond the settlement has been paved.
At the former pishpash, we saw four people coming through. We asked them how they were able to get in and out. They were visiting the Lazarus orphanage in Al Ezariya and were able to go in and out with their foreign passports. They seemed very tense and were hesitant about speaking with us.
Beit Furik, Huwwara, Jit, Sun 14.10.07, Afternoon
Huwwara and Beit Furik Checkpoints,
Translation: Tal H.
We traveled via Jit Junction. About 30 cars were lined up there waiting - coming from the north, as three soldiers alternated checking cars coming from three different directions, and letting through mainly those coming from the south and east. Drivers coming from the north complained of an hour-and-a-half waiting period. One driver told us he has been standing at checkpoints for three and a half hours already. We didn't even ask from he was coming from. Where - after all - could he be coming from? Three and a half hours?
The army hotline explains that "because of the holiday (Eid al Fitr festivities ending the Ramadan month of fasting) checking is more thorough than usual". What has thorough checking got to do with the Palestinians' holiday?? And when there is no holiday? We wondered what is more exasperating - the "thorough checking" and endless waiting, the flagrant lack of consideration pointedly during the holiday, or the idiotic answers.
This is how the army seems to convince itself.
Then, in honor of that very same holiday, came another roadblock at Yitzhar Junction, with about 12 cars waiting, again three soldiers checking everyone who has just now come from nearby Jit Junction checkpoint or Huwwara Checkpoint. The army's answer was already known, we didn't even bother asking.
15:30 - at Huwwara Checkpoint
"Hey, you! Go stand over there!" a soldier orders us, even before we get settled at our usual spot by the last turnstile. "There are new rules here now!" Said who? "Say I!"
And who says you say? "The Military Policeman, and he knows." We asked to speak only to the checkpoint commander, and when he arrived he silenced the soldier, asked us not to speak to soldiers, sent the soldier back to his job at the vehicle checking post where he had to tolerate our presence until after 6 p.m. when we left for Beit Furik Checkpoint.
At the checkpoint, not very many pedestrians. The special side line for women, children and the elderly is open, and many children and infants in their holiday best, holding on to new presents, especially toys. A second lieutenant checks this line quickly without harassing people. Many women smile and greet us. The pedestrian checks are conducted relatively fast and "matter-of-factly" (beyond the basic irrelevance of this whole machination - translator's note).
On the other hand, the vehicle-check procedures are very slow. People are required to disembark and stand away at a great distance while the driver approaches the soldiers with his passengers' IDs. Then he goes back to the car, brings it closer to the checking point, and only then the passengers join him. A female MP then conducts a manual metal-detector search on everyone's body - more or less massaging the men: front and back, all along inner and outer legs and arms, crotch and bottom, while joking around with her mates, slowly and thoroughly, and at the end - as an afterthought - hands the ID to the searched person with her head turned away, avoiding his/her eyes completely. (We have this on video). Are the few women traveling by car more suspect than the very many passing through the pedestrian special side line??
A private vehicle carrying a very ill child is allowed to speed into Nablus, and later another car with a wounded, bleeding child is also allowed through.
A young man wearing a suit is required to take off his jacket and shake it out in front of the girl soldier. Palestinian citizens of Israel exit Nablus beaming for having finally been allowed - for once - entry without too many problems. The young second lieutenant is seen helping two elderly people carry some extremely heavy luggage towards the taxi park going into Nablus.
16:08 - a fist detainee in the concrete holding cell, a 35-year old resident of Al 'Ein refugee camp in Nablus. He is accompanied by his brother and sister who live in Beita village and want to have him over for their holiday dinner. They tell us he is a Palestinian policeman who was incarcerated in Israel and released a year-and-a-half ago. Ever since, he has only seen trouble at the checkpoints. The cell door closes and the brother and sister are ordered to stand away from the turnstiles. From the moment he is detained, there is an endless stream of 'interrogators' approaching him one by one: the securing soldier, the sergeant, the staff sergeant and the second lieutenant, and then the MP and another MP and seemingly the GSS too by long phone conversation which he is allowed to have outside the cell (reception difficulties?). He is returned to the cell as the phone call ends.
At17:44 the hotline tells us that the man "is security-prevented all types of trave/passage, is actually not at all a Palestinian policeman, and since the time that he may be detained is almost up, he will soon be released and ordered to return to Nablus and not leave it." The man takes heart-breaking leave of his siblings and they go home without him, not before assuring us again that he is indeed a Palestinian policeman...
In the meantime, another detainee is sent to the hold, suspected of possessing a counterfeit ID. MP Sergeant A., local counterfeit document expert, takes a long time checking it and finds incriminating signs. About an hour later the man is released and sent back to Nablus. He stands again in line and when reaching the checking post, is sent to the hold again.
17:15 - the pedestrian waiting-lines are full. A long line of cars has accumulating Nablus-bound. The owner of the "counterfeit ID" insists on reaching his Qablan village home, argues with the CP commander, MP A. and the DCO representative whose intervention we request. He is sent once again back into Nablus but insists and begs and pleads and finally the DCO rep. hands him back his ID and lets him through. A.' alert eye catches him on his way out, and he chases him, grabs the ID and sends him back to Nablus for the fourth time. Luckily the DCO rep. stands there and intervenes again, and A. cedes - "I only wanted to make sure he wasn't sneaking out"..
A family with a child in a wheelchair requests passages into Nablus on the paved vehicle lane (instead of the dirt and stone incoming-path and through a narrow turnstile). Only one of them is allowed to push the wheelchair through, all the others are sent to the turnstile path.
A mother and her children - one of them holding on to a large furry stuffed giraffe have a hard time convincing the soldier that this is merely a stuffed toy. He sends them over to the X-Ray truck that is by now long long-gone. He then proceeds to pummel it again and again to the children's giggles, and - frankly, to ours as well.
Beit Furiq Checkpoint - wondering if here a 'band's visit' is at all possible?
18:30 - we were summoned here to see what can be done with a band that arrived from Tul Karm. One of the musicians is (alas) a blue ID (Israeli resident) holder, and they have been invited to play at the festivities in Beit Furik. Indeed, an uncommon combination - Palestinians wanting to play music for Palestinians in a Palestinian village on Palestinian soil. They have been waiting at the CP for two hours now, and must shortly return because the Beit Iba Checkpoint to which they are assigned exclusively (to get back to their own homes) closes at 8 p.m. After talking and talking again with the army hotline and the DCO, the instruction is finally given to let them in, and the feast begins almost at the checkpoint itself...
In the detainees
pen, we see two boys. When we approach the CP commander to have a word with him, he roughly orders us away. We managed to understand that they are guilty of having 'tried to sneak through the CP" ( in other words: being too young to hold IDs of their own, they tried to sneak home without having their parents come to fetch them at the CP). Later, having done their punitive time in the pen, they are fetched by their father and go home.
Meanwhile, a bus arrives, full-to-bursting with wedding guests. Most are women and many many little boys, girls and babies, the youngest two weeks old carried asleep in the arms of her proud father. The bus waits until the soldiers signal it to approach (with a flashlight). All passengers are required to disembark and go through the turnstiles. One by one first the women and children go, some get caught inside the turnstile between the remote control operations, some kids get caught in there as well, wearing their fancy best, smiling and happy - even the checkpoint cannot kill their joy. All the while the bus is being checked lest a bomb will be delivered into Nablus amidst the crowd of infants aboard.
Finally, all this time - at the entrance to the CP, Nablus-bound - stands a private vehicle without license plates, belonging to a man leaning on crutches who argues with a soldier in vain. In spite of the documents he shows of having bought it for dismantling, the soldiers claim it is stolen and have taken off its license plates. The entire family - two men (brothers), a woman and four children wanted to go out and have some fun in town, on this festive night. They have been stuck at this checkpoint now for over an hour, now it's dark and cold and they want to give up and go back home. The soldiers wait for the civilian police that does not arrive, and the DCO promise us that if it does not get there soon (no definite time limit mentioned), he will personally see to it that they are released. 20 minutes and two phone calls later - which teach us that both the company and battalion commanders already know about this and the people will be released very soon... finally the company commander arrives, checks the documents, hands back the IDs, and even allows them to enter Nablus with their car. The children's expressions of joy made it all worthwhile.
And we watched these delighted kids with a very heavy heart. What kind of childhood are they having, and what kind of adults are they going to grow up into in the shadow of these checkpoints that make their lives, and the lives of their parents and families, night and day, workday and holiday, into a trudging living hell.
Hamra, Tayasir, Sat 13.10.07, Morning
Reihan, Shaked, Sat 13.10.07, Morning
. Individuals coming out: "The soldiers are nice today." As time passes, more and more people and families dressed for the festival. They pass quickly with their packages.