Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Checking the Point, III

It's 4:20am, and I'm up on Shabbat morning.  No, the kids aren't crying - I just have to be at some checkpoint in 40 minutes.  Within a few minutes, I'm outside with all the gear waiting for the quick intro from the checkpoint's commander.  She starts talking, and all I'm thinking is, "Where are you from?"  When I get a few minutes, I take my guess, "Are you from Argentina?"  R. answers, "No, do you know the village X?"  I'm sure I've heard of it, but it can't be, "I didn't realize Druze women serve in the army."  "I'm not Druze, I'm a Christian Israeli-Arab."  This shift was going to be interesting, and probably not long enough to deal with all the questions I wanted to ask.

R. is amongst the six from her village who serve.  They're all females - the men still aren't ready to take the plunge, though she feels it's nearing.  When I asked her why she'd want to serve, "It's my country, and it's a privilege to give back."  I found myself agreeing with a lot of what R. was saying, especially with her lack of optimism about the region's chances for quiet, "We won't see peace here, until this region accepts that we're a reality."   One comment really stood out though, "If I could choose who would rule this country - Christian Arabs, Muslim Arabs or Jews - I'd take the Jews every time.  You've obviously made mistakes, but there's a desire and ability to better the country that makes me proud to be a part of it."  It was a really interesting day, and talking to her made me realize how important the army (and national service) is for this country.  I really hope our current government can take the necessary steps to ensure all Israeli citizens are obligated to give back.

***

One of the bus drivers from the previous blog seemed like the volatile type to me, so I made sure to talk to him every day when he arrived at the checkpoint to ensure there was no unnecessary headaches.  Monday morning was no different, "Good morning," I said, "You look stressed today, what's wrong?"  "Do you know how much I earn?" He asked.  I tossed out a few random numbers before he answered, "1500 NIS per month.  Do you think that's enough to provide for my family?"  That's a startling low salary, and I really wasn't sure what to say.  He continued, "I just want to work in Israel, where I can earn more, but it's not really possible."  Once again, I didn't have much of a response - another side effect of the Intifada that still impacts thousands of Palestinians today.  "I hope there's an agreement soon, our people need it."

***

A father arrived with his two children at the checkpoint a few minutes before closing time, "Can my children cross?  They're going to spend the evening with their grandparents."  I asked him to hold on as I went to ask the commander.  As I did so, I noticed the father's little boy was just staring at me.  When I came back, I let him know that within a few minutes we'd let his kids go through.  His son was still staring at me, and though I smiled and waved, I got no response.  When I opened the gate to let them through, the little boy started crying.  "Is he ok?" I asked.  "He's probably just scared," the father commented as he took his children to their grandfather.  I just looked at the kid, and felt terrible.   I made this kid cry ...

***

As we were unlocking the gates for the afternoon shift on Tuesday, we noticed something on the outer gate.  A white t-shirt.  Seemed rather innocent, until I went to get a closer look and saw it had a photo of the one and only Yasser Arafat printed on it.  I wasn't too impressed and asked one of the kids around the gate, "Did you see who put this up?"  No one had seen anything ... or who put the knife below the shirt (you can see its handle below the left side of the shirt).  A statement of intent? Mischievous kids? I guess we'll never know.


***

One of the most common statements I heard by various Palestinians is that Jews and Arabs coexisted as equals in the Arab world before 1948.  While there were many cases of coexistence between the Muslims and Jews, the Jews as a whole lived as second class citizens and struggled with the many restrictions placed upon them, not to mention the pogroms (be it the threat or actual following through) or forced conversions.  The distortion of Jewish history in the Arab world isn't the smartest way to build bridges of co-existence today.

***

One of the Palestinians that I talked to daily enjoyed sharing pearls of wisdom from the Torah.  It didn't stop there - he also loved discussing gematria, a subject I don't really know that well.  It was fun to interact with him daily, but I was curious as to how he had accrued such knowledge.  Eventually, one Palestinian explained it to me, "He spent years working in Bnei Brak."  I guess there's a reason the chachamim advised that one's children be around the sound of Torah from a young age.

***

"How's your tree nursery going?" I asked the Palestinian.  "It's doing well baruch hashem," he answered.  He was in and out of the checkpoint non-stop, moving his plants and trees all the times.  "How's your family doing?" I asked as he waited patiently.  "My wife is expecting," He shared, "We've been waiting for four years and finally, a miracle."  I smiled, I was genuinely happy for him.  "Happiness, health and peace," he said, "That's all we need, right?"

***

As he waited for his 2011 Jeep to be checked, I asked Abed where he lived, "Qalqilya Illit," he smiled.  As we struck up a conversation, he started talking about the separation barrier, "You know my friend, it will come down just like the one in Berlin came down."  "I'm not so sure it will be in our lifetime," I answered, "Both sides wanted it in Berlin, our people aren't remotely ready for that."  "If you could do it with Egypt, why not us?" He asked.  "I don't think you can call what we have with Egypt peace," I responded, "It's more like a cease fire, and let's not get into how much their street hates us."  "I still think it's possible, our people can live side by side," He responded defiantly.  "A bit of optimism can never hurt Abed," I smiled.

***

"Oh no," I said, "He's back."  One Palestinian had given us a particularly hard time.  He had lost one of his papers, and until he got a new one, couldn't come through our checkpoint.  Yet for two days, he came back and argued his point.  A few Palestinians at the checkpoint couldn't stand it already and told him what we'd repeated numerous times.  During this particular shift, he left after screaming, "You're only doing this because you hate Arabs.  Yes, you hate Arabs."  I wasn't sure how to respond, and neither was the commander.  Oh well, at least the optimism lasted a good few minutes.

***

It was a long week.  These checkpoints are draining, and testing.  One can do this job, and still remain respectful and empathetic to the Palestinians.  It's imperative the army helps soldiers - be it conscripted soldiers or reservists - adjust to the harsh realities of checkpoint life, be it through weekly discussions, or monthly seminars.  Help them understand why it's important to act the right way, even when you're unsure if you're facing a friend or foe ... Suspect and respect.  Soldiers who forget that will not only be hurting Israel, but will also be hurting themselves.
_

1 comment:

Moise said...

I was expecting...well not this but I'm glad this was what it was...it let me into something not so trivial...your life. Thank you for sharing this with me.