Arrived 7.45 am to see two BP on the
wall, busily putting the barbed wire back in place, following the
Palestinians' daily resistance -- they always pull it down, to jump
over the wall. Another BP was on the lookout platform above the gas
station: he didn't see us arrive and was busy shouting at a transit
driver to move his vehicle away. The man didn't hear. Next thing
the BP lobbed a huge stone (size of a man's fist) at the car. The
BP jumped out of his skin at our "Hey - what's this? We walked
up the hill to the hotel: a BP hidden in the trees

At the actual gate, three BPs were only letting Jerusalemites and
few others through. They closed the gate against a woman with no
pass, holding all traffic until other Palestinians told her she was
causing a problem and she left. We helped a priest through: he
explained to us his wife's mother had just died and he needed to go
into the Old City to buy all the religious items necessary for the
funeral. We escorted him to the BP. No permit. He

was let through.

Out of idle boredom, one BP kicked a bottle against the wall so
shards went flying into his colleagues.

A dietician wasn't allowed to go to work at his hospital, despite
all his

papers - not a doctor. A woman wanting to go to hospital was closed
behind the gate. "Pass me a tear gas canister" one said
as she continued complaining... No, really! I moaned out loud. We
know when they're playing games with us, trying to impress and
pressurise and play with their toys. Then one stubborn old couple,
the woman keeping on and keeping on, the old man just standing
silently steadfast and dignified while she did all the talking,
refused to understand why they couldn't go to visit their daughter
in hospital. No permit. I tried to explain to them in Arabic they
had to go to Ma'ale Adumim and get permission, they just couldn't
grasp the concept.

Try phoning HaMoked from home, I said, pressing the card on them.
No phone at home, she said. In the end, the BP let them pass,
partly out of resignation, partly out of wanting to impress us that
they weren't only tough and partly because they really couldn't
give a good answer to that silent vigil.. Then business as normal,
a wife and babyinfo-icon yes, the husband no. "Write, write!" one
BP told us, when they were strict and then gave us a long moan that
we never write when they do something good. He reads our reports,
he says in that tone of voice kids use when they're lying and going
to tell their parents.. I promised (threatened) to send him my
reports to his own email address if he'd give it to me, but he was
paranoid about

hackers and refused my offer. Heaven forbid.