CPTnet
January 27, 2004
HEBRON: A soggy day in Hebron Town

by Maureen Jack

On January 14, 2004, Art Arbour, Diane Janzen and I returned to our
apartment in very heavy rain. As we neared the Beit Romano checkpoint, we
were approached by a Palestinian man whose van was parked up a side street.
He wanted to get to his shop round the corner in Upper Shalaleh Street with
some goods. He had been in touch with the soldiers in the morning who told
him that he could do so, but now he was being told that he could not take
his vehicle there.

He was wet. We were wet. And the Israeli soldier across the street was
wet. The roadway was a rushing stream of three-inch deep water. Janzen set
off through the water towards the soldier and the checkpoint. With a heavy
heart I set off after her, as did Arbour. Despite the rain I had managed to
keep my shoes reasonably dry; with the first two steps that effort had been
for nothing. A small group of Palestinian men watched us with some interest
from the relative comfort of higher ground.

We tried to persuade the soldier to let the Palestinian man drive to his
shop but he said that (apart from one doctor) Palestinian cars were not
allowed there. He said he knew nothing about permission having been given.
I suggested that he look the other way for a minute so that the man could
get to his shop. He replied, "And then I look again and shoot his tires."

I asked him how the man could take goods to his shop.

At that point two Palestinian boys (about ten years old) struggled through
the water manhandling a cart piled precariously with goods. "That's the
solution," the soldier said, gesturing towards them.

"That is not a solution I'd want for your family and friends," I said.

 "THEY are not my friends," he retorted.

"I don't want that kind of solution for those Palestinians and I wouldn't
want it for your people either," I replied.

"No," he said sarcastically, "but you are Christian and you love everybody.
You are good."

 I replied, "I don't think I'm particularly good. I'm certainly no better
than you or the Palestinians." No better and
certainly no drier, I thought glumly.

The soldier did not allow the Palestinian to drive to his shop. We made
our soggy way home. The sun has shone every day since. But Palestinians
are still not allowed to drive on this road.