Huwarra And Other Machsoms

In order to enter Nablus you must take a shared taxi to Huawarra Checkpoint, disembark with all your belongings and carry them a few hundred meters, through revolving doors, passed Israeli Occupation Forces, and continue walking or jumping in other shared taxi for another few kilometers. You do this afraid that at any moment a soldier will single you out and deny you entry, or worse yet, detain you.

I have heard of Huwarra before. Its name sends shudders down Palestinian spines. It conjurs up images of crossing the snapping jaws of a crocodile, someone is gonna get hurt. When we arrived, I was taken aback. It seems an entire industry has sprouted up to meet the needs, the needs of Palestinians stuck in this gauntlet, the needs of poor folks trying to make money in this difficult economy. There were hundreds of taxis on both sides and men hawking cheaper rides than the next. You can purchase meals for a few shekels as well as cold drinks, if you have the shekels.

On this day, we got through with no problem and no need for a dialogue with Jeish, but on the other side the line of Palestinians trying to make it to point south was terribly long.

The next day Internationals accompanied Palestinians at Beit Iba checkpoint, the Machsom for points north of Nablus such as Jenin. The line of vehicles was at least a half mile long. I am not sure how that translates into hours wait but we even watched an ambulance with lights on go through a thorough documents search. I wonder if these were the conditions a few weeks ago when a comrades uncle died of a heart attack, while laying in an ambulance, stuck in a checkpoint, awaiting approval to travel to a hospital. This uncles heart stopped, many of ours broke. This is life in Palestine.

On foot, queues of travelers were forming. One for men and another for women and children. The latter is called the humanitarian line. We advocated for yet another, I guess a more humanitarian line. We spent a few hours advocating for people to get through more quickly. We were able to negotiate with soldiers for the release of men who were being held for various non-reasons such as having similar ID numbers as wanted men, although the soldiers knew the men in custody were not wanted, and those who were being punished for trying to circumnavigate this horrific checkpoint and its long lines.

Our efforts were a drop in an ocean.

Our efforts were more politicizing than effective at creating institutional change. It made me understand further how humiliating life can be under occupation. I tip my hat off to Machsom Watch, a group of Israeli women who volunteer constantly and systematically to stop human rights abuses at these checkpoints and watchtowers.

But we also built a sense of solidarity with those who watched us, as odd as we must have looked, a bunch of foreigners talking to soldiers and pleading with them to let people through more swiftly. One uncle, at first, asked why the soldiers weren't letting us through and I told him, we didn't want to go through, we want you to be able to get through faster, we are friends of Palestinians from Amreeka and Britanya and we don't agree with Bush or Blair. The uncle told us he loved us and that many Palestinians know that the people are not reflected by the officials. Salamat.