Qalandiya
That’s the entire difference.
1.
A boy, nine or ten years old, went through the checkpoint by himself.
He pressed the qushan (the original of the birth certificate) to the bulletproof window.
Female soldier: “What’s your father’s name?”
The boy didn’t reply. He didn’t understand Hebrew.
Female soldier: “What’s your father’s name, your father!” she yelled, as if the boy were deaf.
The man behind him on line translated the question into Arabic.
The boy answered.
Female soldier: “What’s your mother’s name?”
The man translated, the boy answered. The boy passed the test.
The soldier motioned with her hand: Go.
The boy went.
2.
I stood facing the female soldier, pressed my ID card to the window.
I: “Do you want to know my mother’s name?”
The soldier: “There’s no photo on the birth certificate.”
I: “So?”
The soldier: “Maybe it isn’t his.”
I: “So?”
The soldier: “Maybe it’s stolen.”
I: “OK – Do you want to know my mother’s name?”
The soldier: “It’s not necessary, you’re an Israeli citizen.”