Hebron, Sansana (Meitar Crossing), South Hebron Hills
08:00-11:00
There are no more laborers at the checkpoint. The roads are also almost empty of military vehicles. Only the balloon above Beit Haggai reminds us of what the “routine” involves.
The sheep market is open today. The army isn’t interfering nor detaining people today, neither there nor at any other junction, road block or pillbox.
At the entrance to Kiryat Arba, approximately one hundred meters past the regular booth, a checkpoint has been added, with spikes that rise from the road when necessary. We passed the guard and suddenly the barrier was lowered. We waited, heard whistles but we’re neither sheep nor dogs so didn’t imagine they referred to us. A police car arrived, passed, the barrier opened for it and we followed it despite the whistles. At Kiryat Arba itself a security vehicle cut us off and blocked our way. The whistling guard following immediately, a blond, with long earlocks. “Who are you, where are you from, why didn’t you stop?” he asks. “We didn’t know we were supposed to, “I answered, “You didn’t say anything and when the barrier lifted we drove on. “Didn’t you hear me call you?” he asks. “You whistled like to a dog so we didn’t respond,” I reply. He smiles. “Address us like human beings and we’ll respond.” “OK, next time pay attention.”
Ofer Ohana also arrives in his car. “Did you wake up?” he asks and drives on.
In Hebron it’s exam time. The pupils are already on their way home. A two-week vacation begins Thursday. In addition to the groups of pupils, bands of children carrying plastic buckets are everywhere, coming to receive the daily soup ration at the mosque. TIPH representatives are also moving around the city as well as other peace organizations and also Yehuda Sha’ul from Breaking the Silence, leading a tour…
M. tells us that our friend who reports regularly about what’s happening in the town told him what she’d posted on Facebook about the milk seller and his donkey who for years has gone from his home near Tel Rumeida through the Tarpat checkpoint to area H1 to sell milk and dairy products. Suddenly, in the past few days, after the checkpoint was renovated, he’s not allowed through. Why? Our “Tuvyeh the Dairyman” doesn’t understand the reason, he lives next to the settlers, it’s his house, he also has four cows, that’s how he makes his living. We’ve seen him all these years, his donkey carrying milk cans on both flanks, going through the opening. They didn’t make him go through the metal detector. But no longer. That’s it. So during the past few days he waited and waited and waited, and finally had to spill out the milk that soured and return home. The most moral army in the world suddenly considers him a security threat.
He won’t leave his house, he has nowhere to go, certainly not, since he’s almost 70 years old.
That what he says.
And what can we say?