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Leaving Ramallah
The
fieldwork diary of Kiven Strohm
(3/6/2009)
A couple weeks before returning to Montreal I was at Bilal’s when his mother asked
whether I had yet been to Jerusalem. Besides the day at the Supreme Court shortly
after I arrived, which did not include anything but the Supreme Court, I replied
that I had not. I wanted to go but other things always seemed to come up and I figured
I would go when I returned. There and then it was decided that, before I leave,
I must go to Jerusalem, with a stop in Ramallah thrown in for good measure. Oddly
I was more eager to go to Ramallah, a city I had heard so much about over the years
for its vibrant cultural life. I was glad then to hear that our day was to start
in Ramallah. After a breakfast of hummus ma ful and a visit with family of Bilal
who live in Ramallah, we started to make our way out of town and to Jerusalem. Little
did I know what awaited Bilal, Nael and myself as we started to drive out of Ramallah.
As some may already know, getting into Ramallah from Israel is simple: you just
drive in, no borders, no checkpoints. Leaving Ramallah, as I was found to find out,
is another story, especially if one is heading in the direction of Jerusalem.
Qalandiya Checkpoint: As the car in front of us pulled to the head of the cue, Bilal
followed too closely, precipitating a soldier to yell at him to stop immediately.
Finally our turn, Bilal drove forward with his arm out of the window, his driver’s
license prominently displayed in his hand. Yet, instead of coming to a full stop,
he kept the car rolling slowly, which again prompted the soldier to yell at him.
This lead to an animated exchange and within seconds Nael and I were ordered out
of the car and told to go to the security area for further questioning.
After a bit of confusion as to where to go, Nael and I were directed toward a large
covered area with a series of long and narrow passages with horizontal metal slats
a few feet apart running the length of each passage and which instantly brought
to mind images from factory farms for livestock. At the end of the passages were
floor to ceiling turnstiles with red and green lights atop signalling when you were
allowed to continue through to be questioned by a checkpoint agent. It being a relatively
quiet day – we were a group of around 10-12 in all – we waited for no more than
10 minutes before the light turned green and an older Palestinian man and Nael started
to make their way through. I followed Nael but quickly found myself stuck mid-way
through the turnstile when it stopped. After a few seconds the turnstile went into
reverse and I was put back in the middle space between the passages and the turnstile.
Meanwhile, Nael had made his way through and was listening to an IDF soldier make
insulting jokes with his fellow soldiers about an older Palestinian man in line
before him and who spoke only a few words of Hebrew. When it was Nael’s turn he
approached the window, behind which a reclined soldier sat self-approvingly. Having
heard the exchange with the older Palestinian man and the jokes the solider was
making about him, Nael brusquely informed him that his jokes were not funny. This
lead to shouting from both sides with Nael finally being told he would have to come
back tomorrow to get through. Following a short exchange, Nael turned back to the
turnstiles and, walking past me without a word, disappeared back to where we had
just come. When my turn came I was immediately asked to show the visit permit stamp
in my passport. I fumbled through the pages of my passport, all the while trying
to keep my hands from noticeably trembling. Having finally found it I placed the
open page of my passport with the stamp against the window whereupon the soldier
asked where I was from. I said Montréal and he replied that he liked the city and
told me to go ahead through. It what can only be described as an experience of relief
and anxiety, I made my way through to the road on the other side of the checkpoint,
though still not sure what had happened to either Nael or Bilal.
Exiting I was relieved to see Bilal standing by his car in the near distance, he
having finally made it through. As I approached him without Nael at my side, I started
to explain how he had been refused passage and was forced to return back. Little
did I know that Nael had forgotten his identification in the car, whereby making
his chances of getting through near impossible. A short discussion later and with
Nael’s identification in hand, Bilal made his way to the area which I had just exited
to see if he could find out where he had ended up. I anxiously stood waiting and
watching. Around 10 minutes had passed when my phone rang. It was Bilal letting
me know that he did not see Nael anywhere, neither inside the area around the passages
and turnstiles nor on the other side of the checkpoint. I started to think that
Nael might try to get through by getting a ride with someone else and my suspicions
were soon confirmed when I saw him getting out of a taxi and again being told to
go back inside the security area to be questioned. I called Bilal to let him know
that Nael would be attempting to come back through the inside security area. Meanwhile,
the taxi that Nael had attempted to take approached me and the driver asked for
Nael’s identification papers so he could go back through to give them to him. Since
Bilal already had Nael’s identification, I thanked him and told him that we were
working on things. Moments later Bilal and Nael came out and made their way to the
car, much to my relief.
Later that day, as we made our way back to Haifa, I asked Bilal and Nael why they
had been so agressive with the soldiers at the checkpoint. When crossing borders
and dealing with authority my tendency has been to avoid causing any conflict and
suspicion, but both Nael and Bilal were openly confrontational. Nael told me that
he refuses to allow Israeli security to demean him just because he is Arab. Similarly,
Bilal added that one must be aggressive with Israeli security if one wants any respect.
Once confronted, Israeli IDF soldiers tend to back down. I then asked whether their
being Israeli citizens made them feel more confident in being agressive and both
agreed. They explained that as citizens they have rights and therefore will demand
them, even if this involves being confrontational. Whether they’d be as confrontational
were they not citizens and living under the occupation was less clear.
While being aggressive and confrontational arguably created problems for us that
day, in the end I understood Bilal and Nael’s reasons for being so: As they both
suggested, what else does one have left if such acts of intimidation, humiliation
and dehumanization become normalized?
(Source:
Deinzein.)
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