Last day in Jerusalem

Saturday.
Even on this day, the day I was leaving to return to Australia, I was challenged by events that took place around me. These are my last three snapshots.

Snapshot One: Body-Search

There is a ledge outside the Jaffa Gate to the Old City where you can sit and face West Jerusalem. I sat there; reading and watching the people filter past. It was Shabbat and dozens of the faithful filed past me on their way to the Wailing Wall. Beside me was a man enjoying the sun and around us milled tourist groups waiting to see the Old City. Two security officers - one in police blue and the other in soldier green - came and stood by the entrance to Jaffa Gate. I was reading and didn't see them stop a man walking past. Suddenly the man beside me looked around, stood up and walked away. His sudden movement disrupted me from my reading and I also looked around and saw that the security officers had asked the man they had stopped, who was Arab, to remove everything from his pockets and allow them to search him. He placed everything on the ledge before lifting up his shirt and turning around so that they could see if there was anything on his chest or back. This searching and questioning all took place publically, in front of the tourists and the passers-by and me. When the soldiers found nothing they told the man that he could leave. He gathered his things, straightened his shirt and walked away.


Snapshot Two: A Hurled Can

Nablus Road is a busy street in East Jerusalem; it ends at Damascus Gate and goes up to one of the two Arab bus stations, where the buses to Ramallah leave from. My sherut to the airport was to pick me up outside the Jerusalem Hotel opposite. On my way up from the Old City, carrying all my bags, I saw an Orthodox family walking towards me heading towards the Wailing Wall to celebrate the end of Shabbat. Some young Palestinian men were walking past talking loudly; one of them had just finished drinking from a can. They turned and saw the family and upon registering their Orthodox clothing, the one with the can took it in his hand and threw it at the father of the family. He missed. This took place publically, in front of the commuters and the passers-by and me. The father said something to his family and they all kept walking quickly onwards, not even looking at the young men.


Snapshot Three: Driving Past Razor Wire

The route the sherut took to the airport brought us partially into the West Bank. I'm not sure why we took that route, but suddenly there was razor wire on the side of the road and security fencing. I looked out at the hills that had become so familiar, saw some yellow servees in the distance, and even saw a sign pointing in the direction of Ramallah, and I realised that I did not want to leave. I wished with all my might that we were going to follow that sign, but we drove on. After a few minutes, we passed through a checkpoint (whose purpose is to make sure only Israelis and Internationals use the road - no Palestinians) and drove back out of the West Bank into Israel. We left the rolling hills behind us.

I was going home.