The people there at Qalandiya in front of the checkpoint were children, women and men released from hospitals in the West Bank, in a hurry to leave the dark checkpoint compound to the bright sunlight, embarking on two designated transport vehicles headed home, to the Gaza Strip.
There was something sad in this sight of those hurrying to get back to their prison, the place reeking with constant danger to their lives from their occupiers and their dire need.
Others at Qalandiya in front of the checkpoint were Israeli Border Police who situated themselves behind a wall of tin sheets, sheltering them from surprises or from the sunlight. Three of them stood there, a man and two women, and required every single Palestinian adult to present IDs and permits.
When I came so did they, and when I left, two hours later, they were still busy manhunting.
The sign with the picture of the murdered boy, Mohammad Abu Khdeir, posted by the family on the front of its home, has resulted in an official complaint and threat of daily fines by the Jerusalem municipality, because the family did not apply and was not issued permission to post this sign.
In its stead a smaller sign was placed on the wall, facing the back of the house, with a picture that has paled with the years.
The dead child, frozen in time, is present in all the life circles of the family members, young and old, and the father – Hussein – spoke of the importance of memory.