Qalandiya, Sun 20.11.11, Afternoon

Translating: Ruth Fleishman

"Take five pictures of me today", asked seven and a half year old Haled whilst skipping between the puddles and between the rain drops, trying to sell bumper stickers to the drivers. The temperature dropped to 11 degrees Celsius, and on Haled's feet were hole-ridden sandals and on his slim body was a tight shirt. I took the photos.
I took photos of thirteen year old Jamal as well, a new comer to the local scenery who asked: "come to my house, I live near here" and pointed with his stretched arm towards the refugee camps, "It's right here, in the camp, I have a horse and I would like to have my picture taken while I'm ridding it". Perhaps another time

.

It was 15:00 when we entered the checkpoint. By the (locked) gate leading to the DCO offices was a man. There was no one on the other side to respond, for better or worse, to this person as he shouted and knocked on the metal gate.  The official closing time is 16:00. The intercom has been disconnected for many years.

We were stuck for 15 minutes in the human pens at the entrance to the

checkpoint without there being any movement, the journey to the other side of the checkpoint took an extra 20 minutes. We passed the time while engaging in conversation with S, an old friend who works in Atarot. He is always in a hurry in this time of the day to arrive at work, for S, who doesn't have the strength to deal with what goes on during the morning in Qalandiya, has been working for the past five years only night shifts: "During this time of day I sometimes wait ten minutes and sometimes an hour. But that's it. But in the morning it takes hours. Sometimes, by the time you cross the checkpoint it's better for you if you don't show up to work at all, because all those who arrive late are sent back".
S's schedule is like that of many others:
He returns home in the early hours of the morning, eats, showers, and as it becomes day time he goes to sleep, he wakes up late in the afternoon, gets dressed, rushes to the checkpoint and then it begins all over again…
People who live their days as though they were nights and their nights as though they were days. It's not a matter of choice but an existential constraint.

We tried locating the family of the 15 year old boy who as was mentioned in the reported from the courts is being held in Ofer. We didn't make much progress. We fled from the rain.