At 5.15. already a stream of men walking to the main road.
And at 5.15 the pavements were already full of men sleeping, sitting quietly and thinking of maybe happier days thought they are so far gone that it is hard to remember them.
One man is praying in the dark on the cold, dirty pavement. His Israeli counterparts lie at home in their warm beds thinking of going to the well-lighted , clean and warm synagogue.
A group of men prayed towards the exit of the checkpoint….and here too I wonder what they are praying for. The disappearance of the idol of the conquering Lords of the Land. I did not feel comfortable to photography them.
The soldier again told me I could not stand inside but when I said we had been doing this since the start of the checkpoint, probably before he was born, he did not make a big deal of it and we discussed whether the rain would come or not.
Because of the crowds it was very difficult making my way in to the terminal and coming out at the end of the shift was even worse as two men had started to fight and collected such a crowd that one of the older men had to make a path for me to get through. The fight then continued to the road so it was very dicey getting through, At one time one of the Ecumenical came out to say that the women were having problems coming through and the Humanitarian gate was not open. We phoned Hanah Barag who said that the authorities had told her that there were few women coming through at that time of the morning and that it was not necessary. But it still remains a problem for the women.
After the filth and the cold and the misery of those huddled workers I come home with a feeling of guilt as I sit with my hot coffee and warm baigel with butter and jam which I bought