Bethlehem, Etzion DCL, Sun 1.5.11, Afternoon
Etzion DCL. 15:30 pm: no news is, in this case, bad news, sad news. The scene is exactly, but exactly, as it always is: A dozen or more people pressing against the carousels, another half a dozen sitting patiently in the seats. Nobody has entered in a while. Some people claim to be waiting "since morning". The stories are the usual, too: Medical appointment needed, magnetic cards needed, people waiting for hours when dear ones need them at home. Can we please, please, please help. We try -- but besides comforting answers ("We'll let in people soon"; "everyone will be serviced today") nothing really happens. Eventually the turnstiles turn, and a few people are let in. But the trickle of people emerging from inside is so very slow (3 came out in 45 minutes), that we can only imagine that those hitherto waiting outside are now waiting inside. We feel helpless, frustrated. Of course -- so do the Palestinians. But we will go home, to where things are different, and they are stuck in their helplessness, in their frustration, in their humiliation, begging, pleading, for documents they should never have been required to obtain prior to any movement to begin with.
Bethlehem– Checkpoint 300, 4:30 pm: here, at least, the routine has settled into something relatively smooth and quick. Laborers run from the busses into the terminal, and emerge within a minute or less on the other side, till on the run: Home beckons, after a day of toil for the Jewish bosses. Still it must be a relief not to have to plead, either with the soldiers or with us, for help in getting across.