Qalandiya, Sun 12.8.12, Morning
5:25
the line is very long, reaching to the outside of the booth. 3 turnstiles are open, the 5 "sleeves" are also open. Up until 6:00 the stream of workers was going through at the rate of 60-65 every 4-5 minutes.
the line continues to be long; there seem to be more workers than usual (this turned out not to be true).
Everyone standing in line spoke about how efficient the process was last week.
6:14
The humanitarian gate opened and the officer on duty suggested we also go through it.
There was a change in shifts of the officer.
6:20-6:45
Things slowed down considerably. The turnstiles opened every 6-10 minutes, and less than 20 workers went through on average. When we called the DCO, they promised to look into it. The officer on duty was very hostile and made it clear to us that the "work" was being done in the best way possible and that "we know exactly how to do it."
6:45
Suddenly the turnstiles started opening one at a time, while the other 2 remained closed. About 6-7 people could go through. All our telephone calls did no good.
We left at 7:20, when the line decreased. Our Christian friends reported that the number of people who went through up to 7:20 was 1500 in total.
In our attempt to talk with the people going through, I sensed a certain hostility, which was expressed by one person who asked us not to "ask the same thing all the time, I don't have the strength to talk about it (Ramadan), and what do you want, what is there to talk about?" Also the facial expressions of a lot of the people passing by were angry and full of hatred.
As a "correction" for the depression caused by their and our own anger and despair, at the exit from the parking lot, I crashed into a pillar and I knew that I was going to wreck my car if I continued to drive. A Palestinian taxi driver who saw us volunteered to drive my car out of the parking lot without further damage. We thanked him for the "correction", which didn't actually correct anything in our feelings about the distressing situation and about our despair in the face of our helplessness.