Qalandiya - a day after the killing of Iyad alHalak by border policemen
We spoke about the murder of Iyad Al Halaq as if he was not someone he had never met.
We spoke about the execution of Iyad Al Halaq not as if it were the fate the person Iyad Al Halaq, but as about something that might happen to anyone who is a part of the Palestinian people.
Because here, at Qalandiya refugee camp and the nearby checkpoint, where the ground is filled with the blood of so many martyrs, murder in the guise of fear for the lives of the murderers is simply not credible.
As I crossed the checkpoint, opposite the woman-soldier-inspector, as I was instructed to remove my surgical mask and sun glasses, again (like a week ago) I felt a bit like a Muslim woman demanded to remove her hijab (head cover)*. Again, (like a week ago), it did not suffice for them – the inspecting soldiers – to know with certainty that I am I, once more, my ID was taken from me, again I was delayed, and again the security guard left the post with my ID in his hand, and talked with someone somewhere: “There’s this Jewish woman here…” I did manage to hear that.
The fact that they have everything – but everything! – on their computer screen did not suffice, and only after talking on the walkie-talkie and on the telephone with someone who checked what this Jewish woman looks like who suddenly popped up here on the unexpected side of the checkpoint, only after thoroughly looking into the matter, did I get back my ID and my freedom.
To my question why I was detained, the security guard answered that it was for my own safety, for there, where I just came from, stones are very often thrown at Jews.
*True, there is no comparison between me – so privileged – and a Muslim woman with or without a head covering, but that was what crossed my mind.