RAMALLAH, March 27, 2016 (WAFA) – He turned the orange taxi around abruptly after getting off the phone with another driver who informed him that the two major checkpoints separating the cities of Ramallah and Nablus were closed off for Palestinians.  

Frustrated, the driver informed the seven passengers that Israeli soldiers closed Zatara and Huwwara checkpoints and a longer detour through the southern villages of Nablus is their only hope to reach their destination.

The driver apologetically said the fare is going to increase because a detour would take more time and fuel. Having no other option, the passengers nodded in agreement saying it shouldn’t matter as long as they only reach home safe.

In heavy silence except for the sound of wheels battling the unpaved road, the driver managed to pass a small traffic jam near a junction, known as Eyes of Thieves valley between the villages of Silwad and Sinjil north of Ramalalh, where an Israeli military checkpoint once stood before it was dismantled after a Palestinian man shot 10 Israeli soldiers in March 3, 2002.

Aware that the road that usually takes one hour is going to take longer with the dreaded closure, the passengers settled into their seats while listening to the hushed sound of Umm Kulthum, the famous Egyptian singer, playing on the radio.

It was 4:30 pm when the driver’s cell phone rang waking up the sleeping passengers and startling those who got distracted by the fast moving objects outside the speeding car. Another driver called to say that the detour road is very crowded and it might take another hour to reach Nablus.

The driver no longer suppressed his irritation, “Our lives are bitter!” His complaints were echoed by the passengers who knew they are going to be late for their meetings, family gatherings and a doctor appointment.

“Be patient my son. Imagine living in Jerusalem, what would you do then?” said a gray-haired man apparently in his mid fifties from Jabal al-Mukaber neighborhood in Jerusalem who was on his way to Nablus to visit family.

The driver welcomed the old man as if he is from another country and asked with obvious curiosity about the city he didn’t see in 15 years, the case of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians.

Sighing, the old man said “They [Israelis] will kick us out of all the Arab neighborhoods soon. They will trap us in a separation wall to isolate us from Jewish neighborhoods, eventually locking us outside the city.”

“Even though we have Israeli identity cards, they do not want any Arab in Jerusalem. They want it all for themselves,” the old man addressed the rest of the passengers who were now following the conversation.

With these few words, silence fell again with the passengers diverted their gaze outside the moving car, which was now passing through another crowded village overlooking the packed highway leading to the closed Zatara checkpoint.

 Hundreds of cars were waiting in hopes that the Israeli soldiers would allow them to pass through the checkpoint to reach Nablus.

The driver looked again at the rear-view mirror asking the old man in the back: “Is it true they [Israel] divided Al-Aqsa Mosque temporally and spatially?”

The old man replied, “Even if it wasn’t made official, the reality proves it has been divided.”

Hundreds of Israeli settlers tour Al-Aqsa Mosque every month starting after dawn prayer until noon prayer under the protection of the Israeli army. “They [settlers] curse us and the soldiers stationed at the gates are cruel; humiliating us during inspection.”

“The Israeli occupation is shortening our lives in Jerusalem,” he added.

Carefully listening to the pained words of a man who carries real life accounts from the holy city, the driver entered an unpaved road, which is deemed closed for Palestinians with a warning sign, between the village of Zatara and Beta.

The now anxious driver accelerated the speed to hide from a military jeep stationed near the road and said, “There was a school teacher who used to drive his car with other teachers every morning through a long detour. One day, he decided to pave this road in hopes to shorten the distance, but Israeli soldiers shot him with a bullet in the head.”

In an attempt to lighten up the mood, one passenger asked the driver to speed up, because no one wishes to end up as the day’s breaking news.

Half an hour away from Nablus, the driver said “I bet they plan on closing off the main Ramallah-Nablus road for good and force us to take this road instead to give the settlers more freedom and space.”

No one answered the driver knowing a similar scenario is not hard to believe considering it happened before. The taxi halted as he approached a flying checkpoint that Israeli soldiers set up at the entrance of Awarta village near Nablus.

Another long line of cars and taxis was waiting to be inspected and allowed to cross.

The driver looked at his rear-view mirror to find the reflection of the old man again and said, “Uncle, could you bring Ka’ak [Jerusalem’s famous sesame bread] for me the next time you come to Nablus?”

The Jerusalemite man told the driver that he should come to Jerusalem with a promise to take him on an exclusive tour in the age-old city. Smiling, the driver replied, “Maybe in another hundred years.”

An Israeli officer had informed the driver that he is denied access to Jerusalem on security basis and will stay on the list for another hundred years.

“I might come when they lift the security ban,” said the driver as the city of Nablus appeared in the distance, cushioned between the twin Ebal and Gerzim Mountains.

M.H/T.R