Eyal CP - You shall not see here a smiling worker

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Vivi K., Rachel A. (reporting); Translator: Hanna K.

You shall not see here a smiling worker…

We arrived at the CP at 05:00 approximately. The place is packed with workers filling the entire exit square. They sit, eat, and are waiting for transportation.  Some are waiting for employers and others for busses and others for taxis. The place is very quiet and calm. In the course of the two hours we were there, there were quiet mass prayers at two different centers.

We came with the decision to talk to the waiting people. On the board of the pavement there were workers from Bidiya sitting, and one of them volunteered to be the spokesman. We filmed a video in which he told about the long exhausting day, the need to depart very early and to wait in order not to waste a day’s work. He repeated again and again: look here, around, nobody is smiling. They are all frustrated. I looked. One person smiled to me and said “I don’t speak Hebrew”.This young man, the first and last during that morning, told us that he belongs to the fortunate ones who still have an original contractor, and doesn’t have to pay the preposterous sum of 2500 IS.

Workers waiting for transport
Workers waiting for transport
Rachel Afek

Afterwards we took photographs and had a conversation with other workers who told us a similar story but even a worse one. They have to pay at least 2500 NIS at the beginning of the month.


07:00 we arrived at Azzun.

On the street A. told us immediately that every night soldiers enter the village and then “a movie begins”. Whoever approaches is stopped and searched. Cars are searched, houses are searched. They look for a fourteen years old boy who may have thrown stones. Grenades are thrown.

“Yesterday we went to buy things for the house. There were two jeeps on the main road, the soldier opened the window of the vehicle and threw a tear gas grenade.Luckily we were near the shop. We immediately entered. The street was full of people and all of them fled.

Even at night, around one o’clock they threw a grenade. I couldn’t sleep. I waited for them to knock on the door like madmen. I didn’t want the children to wake up”.