Yesterday i escorted a friend from Bethlehem to Jerusalem in order for her to get a visit visa for a holiday in Britain. My friend had to attend an interview because the authorities were concerned about her 'returnability' - in other words, they were concerned that the shear Utopic paradise of the west would prove so tempting that she would not want to return to her own homeland. Enough about that, this is how the trip went; ( '-' marks the restrictions)
- Firstly we found out that she had a pass to enter Jerusalem for 2 days. Her mother forgot to tell us this so we only knew that the pass existed at 10.30 on the second day. Without this pass my friend would have been arrested for attending an interview in her own capital city. Forgetfullness hear can cost people their right to move.
Then we phoned the consulate to tell them that we needed to attend today because it was the only day which would be legally permissable for her to use.
- After a taxi journey to the wall we found several American tourists taking photos of themselves with the warm and welcoming Israeli troops manning the gate. Surreal as it was, this provided us with enough of a distraction to get through this first stage unchecked.
- Next came the checkpoint. At first the soldier said that she could not enter Jerusalem - regardless of the fact that she had a paper from his own milistry of the interior. After two soldiers held a hearty debate about the fact that there was a rather annoyed European pass-port holder standing next to her, they changed their minds and let us through after my friends bags were searched.
- At the consulate my friend was searched by security once again and we were allowed to enter the compound. If this blog were about British immigration policies i would describe the events inside. It is not however so i will leave this section to the imagination.
- On the journey home, the bus was stopped by the 'border police' whose sole job is enforcing the aparthied. If you are anywhere that your religon, skin colour, place of residency or any other factor dictates that you should not be, these all powerful patrol men are the ones who can make your life hell. When they discovered that my friends papers were in order, they decided that they had to get their power kicks another way by stating 'you cant use this after today'. This was such a useful thing to say. Other than the fact that it is written clearly on the paper, this obviosly needed stating!
- When we returned to the Check point we were greeted by the same reminder of supreme power, 'you cannot use this paper again'. My friend was tired and frutrated at this point and so decided to question why they insisted on pointing out the bloody obvious. Speaking in far better English than the soldiers could muster, she confused them and so decided to back down before confusion turned into a masculine display of authority.
Finnaly we were back in Bethlehem, back on the other side of the aparthied, the other side of the wall. This brings a strange feeling of relief with it. On this side there is less money, less jobs, more frustration, lower living standards, but at least the aparthied forces are mostly on the other side.
- Not this time. All of northern Bethlehem is considered 'area C' which means 'full Israeli military and civil control'. In reality this means that unfortunate palestinians have had their houses confiscated to provide sniper points, Israeli flags fly above the buildings and a huge wall (not the boundary wall but a wall inside the city itself) cuts off a number of Palestinian homes in order to annex the 'Rachel's tomb' area. Today we were greeted by yet another road block manned by soldiers searching cars and stopping people. Fortunatly the British passport meant that we could walk through unchecked.
Summary, a trip of about 8km involved passing FIVE military posts, each of which makes the adrenalin rise because of the potenciall of having your journey cancelled, humiliation or worse.
For those of you who do not understand the situation, we at no point in our journey visited an Israeli area. All of this was so that we could pass from Bethlehem in the internationally recognised Arab West Bank to Arab East Jerusalem which is also in the internationally recognised Arab West Bank.
Without being escorted by an international, this trip would not have been possible. On the way home my friend was angry and humiliated. I asked her not to confront the soldiers again like that because i was scared about what might happen to her. In the end, what right do i have to ask such a thing with my comfortable British status?
- Firstly we found out that she had a pass to enter Jerusalem for 2 days. Her mother forgot to tell us this so we only knew that the pass existed at 10.30 on the second day. Without this pass my friend would have been arrested for attending an interview in her own capital city. Forgetfullness hear can cost people their right to move.
Then we phoned the consulate to tell them that we needed to attend today because it was the only day which would be legally permissable for her to use.
- After a taxi journey to the wall we found several American tourists taking photos of themselves with the warm and welcoming Israeli troops manning the gate. Surreal as it was, this provided us with enough of a distraction to get through this first stage unchecked.
- Next came the checkpoint. At first the soldier said that she could not enter Jerusalem - regardless of the fact that she had a paper from his own milistry of the interior. After two soldiers held a hearty debate about the fact that there was a rather annoyed European pass-port holder standing next to her, they changed their minds and let us through after my friends bags were searched.
- At the consulate my friend was searched by security once again and we were allowed to enter the compound. If this blog were about British immigration policies i would describe the events inside. It is not however so i will leave this section to the imagination.
- On the journey home, the bus was stopped by the 'border police' whose sole job is enforcing the aparthied. If you are anywhere that your religon, skin colour, place of residency or any other factor dictates that you should not be, these all powerful patrol men are the ones who can make your life hell. When they discovered that my friends papers were in order, they decided that they had to get their power kicks another way by stating 'you cant use this after today'. This was such a useful thing to say. Other than the fact that it is written clearly on the paper, this obviosly needed stating!
- When we returned to the Check point we were greeted by the same reminder of supreme power, 'you cannot use this paper again'. My friend was tired and frutrated at this point and so decided to question why they insisted on pointing out the bloody obvious. Speaking in far better English than the soldiers could muster, she confused them and so decided to back down before confusion turned into a masculine display of authority.
Finnaly we were back in Bethlehem, back on the other side of the aparthied, the other side of the wall. This brings a strange feeling of relief with it. On this side there is less money, less jobs, more frustration, lower living standards, but at least the aparthied forces are mostly on the other side.
- Not this time. All of northern Bethlehem is considered 'area C' which means 'full Israeli military and civil control'. In reality this means that unfortunate palestinians have had their houses confiscated to provide sniper points, Israeli flags fly above the buildings and a huge wall (not the boundary wall but a wall inside the city itself) cuts off a number of Palestinian homes in order to annex the 'Rachel's tomb' area. Today we were greeted by yet another road block manned by soldiers searching cars and stopping people. Fortunatly the British passport meant that we could walk through unchecked.
Summary, a trip of about 8km involved passing FIVE military posts, each of which makes the adrenalin rise because of the potenciall of having your journey cancelled, humiliation or worse.
For those of you who do not understand the situation, we at no point in our journey visited an Israeli area. All of this was so that we could pass from Bethlehem in the internationally recognised Arab West Bank to Arab East Jerusalem which is also in the internationally recognised Arab West Bank.
Without being escorted by an international, this trip would not have been possible. On the way home my friend was angry and humiliated. I asked her not to confront the soldiers again like that because i was scared about what might happen to her. In the end, what right do i have to ask such a thing with my comfortable British status?