Qalandiya

 04.50. By mistake we arrived earlier than usual, but already found the usual long lines almost reaching the road.

Inside, all five checking stations seemed to be open, with long lines at each. The soldier opening the turnstiles did so at reasonable intervals, considering the lines already waiting at the stations. Throughout our watch progress at the checking stations was very slow, which meant frustratingly long waits for people waiting in line to go through the turnstiles.

At 5.40 the lines collapsed completely and NEVER resumed until about 8.50 (when we could join.)

This of course meant that women could not easily enter the leftmost sleeve leading to the turnstiles.

Today not only older folks dropped out to sit on such benches as are still available; later, when I went outside, I saw a number of groups of young men enjoying the sunshine in the now disused parking lot (where no building work seems to have started) – a far superior place to the stinking shed in which to spend their enforced leisure.

At 6.02 a guard arrived. Interestingly, this was the first time we have seen him open the humanitarian gate, although in the past he has often taken over the job of managing the gate from the D.C.O. officer. He was helped by a woman soldier (unclear if she was D.C.O. or Military Police) to check the many people waiting at the humanitarian gate – many of whom were trying their luck, not managing to fight their way into the melee at the entrances to the sleeves.  They allowed groups of women through, but were strict about permits and sent many back.

It is hard to describe the noise and pushing that was going on all the time.  Hopefully the pictures will give some idea.

Many men, before joining the line or entering a sleeve, would put their bags over the fence (on the other side of the turnstile), or hung it, either to avoid carrying the weight for the long time they knew that would have to stand, or to prevent their lunch packages being squashed in the crush while standing in the sleeve. Once through the turnstile they would make a dash to pick up their packages and head for a checking station.

At 8 o’clock the guard left, leaving a policeman who had arrived somewhat earlier and was sitting in the aquarium.  Two minutes later a family group arrived – grandmother, parents and toddler – all loaded with packages.   We signaled to the policeman and he came out to let them through the gate. But the gate was still closed to others. It was heartwarming, though, to see how, when this group reached a checking station, the people there, who must have been so tired and frustrated after their own long wait, made way for them.

We did not see when the policeman left.  Now there was no one attending the gate at all, but there were a number of people waiting hopefully.

An elderly couple arrived, on their way to the eye hospital.  They came supporting each other, he with a stick. With our help they managed to make their way within the crowd milling around the entrance to the left sleeve into the sleeve (some people being more helpful than others:  One said “I can’t help myself. How can I help them?” Another shouted “We’re all sick and need the hospital!”) . And they managed to reach a checking station – quite a feat in the general chaos.

At 8.25 a woman arrived in a wheelchair. We phoned the office (and we think the soldier in the cubicle also did so in response to shouting by the man accompanying the woman). Within 10 minutes the guard returned and let them through, together with a few other ‘entitled’ people (but excluding a man on a crutch on his way to hospital, because he didn’t have the right document). He then took them to a checking station to open the gate there for the wheelchair.

Needless to say, a few people approached us and asked why we couldn’t tell the soldiers inside to work more quickly.  And we did phone a few times to ask for help. It was so noisy that we could never hear the answers clearly – just hoped that at the other end they could get an idea of the noise!

By 8.50 there was one line that we felt we could safely join. When we reached a checking station, there was almost dangerous pushing and shoving at that turnstile, but we finally got through gratefully unharmed, and caught a bus at 9.15.