Beit Furik, Huwwara, Za'tara (Tapuah), Mon 12.11.07, Morning

Raheli M and Raheli A (Reporting)

Translation: Ruth F.

Za'atara Junction
7:00- A bus was inspected. All the passengers were taken off and checked after a thorough inspection of the bus was preformed.

Beit Furik

7:15- The parking lot was full of cars. All the buses were standing in line, waiting for a signal from the soldier that they should move forward and reach the inspection post. The drivers complained about the time they wasted waiting each day, in the morning and in the evening, while making their way to Nablus and back again. These are the hours in which the rage is planted.
A phone call to the DCL had woken a sleepy voice that said it would try to make some inquiries. As if there was something new going on. A part for us, the new ones, everything was as usual, according to what the Palestinians that waited and waited, said. 

A couple of hundred meters from the road, in the direction of Alon Moree, we spoke to a shepherd from Salem that was with his herd in a field in which a ditch and a mound of dirt blocked the way, defining a new border in the field.
Back to the checkpoint: It's inconceivable that people have to stand, day after day, in the morning and in the evening, for hours, waiting to reach their destination which is only a foot step away.

As soon as we arrived, a woman told us about her 18 year old son that was arrested by the soldiers at the inspection post. She was standing there, waiting with her other son that they release him. We tried asking the soldiers that said he was being investigated and that it would take some time. She waited. S. that was with us, tried encouraging her. Eventually he was released and sent on his way.

Two soldiers had informed us that we passed the white line. I said that according to what we know there is no white line, that is what the court ruled (right?). A call to the police. In the meanwhile, from where we stood (from which it was very hard to see) we heard a soldier singing (Avadim Haiinu...) loudly, the soldiers and managers laughed patronizingly, and we saw the people coming out fixing themselves so that they could head on... a belt, trousers and shoes. And S., explained to us like a narrator in a movie about hard feelings of those passing in the lane. And it went on until we left. There weren't any long lines, there was much sorrow, cruelty and rage.