Surda

After leaving our car in Qalandya South
and noticing a new rather fancy kiosk with soft drinks along the
curb we proceeded to the Northern side of the checkpoint, manned by
3 older volunteers. The passage seemed smooth, the queue for cars
very long.

Our driver, A., proved an excellent guide, showing us the sites and
the best views: the Sivan border police-station in Semiramis (named
after the hotel (named after the legendary Assyrian Queen who built
the Babylonian hanging gardens), then the location of Psagot and
its proximity to El Bireh. From there he proceeded along the wall
around the Muqata’a, the rubble of its destroyed buildings and
those that had been rebuilt. The wonderful super highway of course
was no longer as nice as it used to be after the tanks had used it.
A. complained about the man who started the Intifada. He also
showed Abu Mazen's villa, just before we reached the long line of
yellow cabs in front of the dirt heaps in the middle of the road
from where everyone has to proceed on foot.

Literally thousands of people clambered over the mounds of earth
and concrete before starting the 1.5 km. trek to the next
roadblock, from where other taxis could be taken to continue the
trip. The residents of 32 villages comprising Ramallah's hinterland
are thus cut off from their workplace, healthcare, education,
administrative offices, banks, shops, etc. Some young women
carrying babies, vendors with agricultural produce loaded on
two-wheeled hand-carts, many students (the school year has been
extended, since so much times had been lost during the year and it
is now exam-time), but mostly just people on their way to work had
no choice but to walk in the heat, shielding the side of their face
from the glaring sun.

Two jeeps with soldiers checked the occasional bag of some young
men. One of them told us that he preferred not to be there, asking
whether we were not afraid. We said our Machsomwatch badge is our
best insurance.

The road runs down into the valley where the totally deserted
Wallerstein Highway, which the settlers now no longer use,
intersects it and then leads up to the village of Surda. Near the
bottom we saw the remnants of the former checkpoint, which just
left some potholes. Humanitarian emergency cases (ambulances) are
no longer allowed to pass (anyway no vehicle can cross the heaps of
rubble), and are forced to take the long (45 minutes) and expensive
way around though the checkpoint of the Courthouse via Beit
El.

In the middle is a makeshift shack with a large sign of the UPMRC
First Aid Unit. It is a place where people can be put in the shade
if they faint. We met T., a British Professor in Bit Zeit with his
assistant. They told us about the service of two manned wheelchairs
at each side to move the handicapped, funded by the Red Crescent,
and indeed we saw a white clad young man push a man who had
clambered up the hill on crutches.

A number of horse carriages on the other side of the long walk were
just about to leave with some elderly people on board in addition
to crates with produce. Some had fancy decorated baldachins to
shield against the sun, carpets and pillows on the benches and
bells on the harness of their horses. The ride costs 5
Shekels.

A. awaited us on the way back. He took us on a grand tour of the
city where we saw the Lions Square, and noted the busy shops and
lots of activity. He said that only in Ramallah are there still
opportunities for youngsters to find jobs as drivers and in
construction, and that the city is still relatively affluent. We
went up to Kufr Akab and marvelled at the beautiful houses and the
view of Jerusalem, while in the foreground we saw the airstrip with
its confiscated transits and yellow cabs. Beyond it were Neveh
Yaakov, Pisgat Zeev, Givat Zeev and New Giv'on.