Qalandiya - Blurriness, mourning and rubble
Blurriness, mourning and rubble
Once again the Israeli army demolished Abdallah’s fruit shop.
Once again soldiers arrived, equipped with a demolition order issued by the Jerusalem municipality, once again the livelihood of the Tamimi family is ruined, the ground stained with remains and rubble, once again it is uncertain, that source of food for Abdallah, his wife, children and elderly parents.
The only thing left intact was the metal frame. Time after time after time.
What is invisible – is invisible.
That is visible is blurriness, mourning and rubble.
On both sides of the checkpoint, unceasing crazy works are taking place, who knows when they’ll be over.
In the west, destruction of the historical aerial landing field is near completion, the buses’ route has been blocked by fences and gates, holes in the ground are being dug, rocks blasted, infrastructure being set in place.
What will end up here? What are they building? – No one knows.
Some way it’s the birth of a new settler-colony, others that it is a new central bus station.
In the east, like primeval beasts fenced in by win enclosures stand heavy equipment units, their heads in the sky. Some say a new road is being built that would pass through Jab’a village towards the Rami Levi shopping center, others say a tunnel will be dug, leading to Rami Levi.
Both know the beginning of the works, not its final destination.
Eventually we’ll know, the people say. Yes. Eventually we’ll know.
All day the sky was clear and painfully hot.
During my passage on the bridge, on my way back, the southern skies wer clouded over with white-gray-pink, attesting to the fire in the hills.