Hizma, Jaba (Lil), Qalandiya
A man from the Qalandiya refugee camp told us about his son who was arrested two months ago during a demonstration. He was accused of throwing a Molotov cocktail, was tried and sentenced to a year and a half in jail, and is now in a prison in the north. The man added that he, the father, had his permit to work in Israel confiscated, so after years of employment in Atarot he now has no way to support his family. The father had no connection to his son's acts, no knowledge of his intentions, if in fact he did what he was accused of. The son is not a child, he's twenty three years old. "Why do I and my family have to suffer? What do they want me to do, steal?"
Soldiers were manning the roadblock above Jaba village.
"For the protocol, raise your arms like this," they said, and one of them demonstrated by holding his arms out to the sides. "What's that in your pocket, a tape recorder? Did you come to record us?"
No, it's not a tape, it's a camera and I intend to use it.
That statement aroused a reaction with phrases I haven't heard for some time: You can't ... Don't ... Get away ... No one talk to her ... Phone to ...
At the entrance to Hizma, three soldiers were barricaded in a cement structure. Others joined them, for a total of seven. Seven armed people in uniform at the village entrance.
"Is everything all right?" the officer asked. What could be all right when armed guards stand at the village entrance?
"We're here to protect everyone's lives, the Jewish settlers and, you may be surprised, the Arabs," answered the one who asked if everything was all right.