Jaba (Lil), Qalandiya, Tue 19.2.13, Afternoon
Translating: Ruth Fleishman
The smell of tear gas was in the air.
Friends said that soldiers had raided two shops at the refugee camp during the small hours of the night, they burst in, searched for stolen motorcycles, confiscated the content of the shops and arrested one of the owners.
The noise woke the residents of the camp, the young ones came out of their homes, threw stones at the intruders who in response shot stun and gas grenades.
It was only around four AM that the quiet was restored to the place.
While crossing the checkpoint I was once again detained by soldiers that claimed I was not to be on the Palestinian side of the checkpoint, I once again argued that I was permitted by law to be in the place I arrived from: "But there is a sign that says it's forbidden!" an officer reproached me. – "And if there was a sign saying today was Saturday?" I asked, - "Then today would be Saturday", the officer established.
Police officer Dov, who had in the pass released me from detainment, was sent for, he said that "trying to teach 18 year old girls their job over here, is like teaching a bear to ride a bicycle".
The posts, the equipment in them, the pillbox, the flags and flashlights that a light at all hours of the day- were all in their places, only the soldiers that manned and operated the checkpoint had been missing for two weeks.