Stories from the Bethlehem area .. road blocks .. travel restrictions .. how the Israeli law makes life unbearable for Palestinians.
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Going to Jordan ? May be not ..
Today I was supposed to leave Bethlehem with my cousin to go to
Jordan
to visit another cousin in college. The taxi arrives at 8am and we leave for
the Wad il Nar because no one is allowed in or out of Bethlehem through the
"normal" check point today. So we arrive at the bottom of the valley where
the taxi dropped us off at and we get our luggage and hike up the steep
mountain and take another taxi. While we are hiking I realize that the
check point is next to us and the Israeli soldiers are watching all these
people going up and down in humiliation.
Moving on, we take this other taxi and an hour later we reach the Gisser(the
bridge) and we get on a bus that will take us to the Jordan - Israel border
another Gisser. Once we arrive I have to go to one building for foreigners
and my cousin goes in the other building for Palestinians. From there they
tell me that I need a Jordanian visa to pass and I tell them that I have a
multiple entry UNDP Service Visa and should be able to pass and go anywhere
with it. After much arguing they still refuse.
So now my cousin is in the other building waiting on her bus to take her to
the other side. When the bus starts moving they stop it and take her off
because I have told the Israelis that I have a cousin on that bus. To make
the long story short her luggage reached Jordan and came back but we didn't!
By Emily Kattan - Bethlehem
In February 2003, while working at the University of Ghent in Belgium, where
I earned my Ph.D. two years ago, I received a call from my brother in Seattle,
Washington. He alerted me of the disturbing news of my mother's sudden passing
away. I flew from Belgium to Seattle to be with them and to help make
arrangements to have my mother buried in her birth town of Beit Jala. Meanwhile,
members of my family in Beit Jala worked to get permission from the Israeli
authorities for me to accompany the body to Palestine via Ben Gurion airport.
The Israeli authorities denied this request. Due to the urgency of the
situation, I flew to Amman, Jordan and crossed the official border between
Jordan and Israel, the Allenby Bridge, to get to Palestine, adding expense and
two extra days to the journey. We laid my dear mother to rest in her hometown of
Beit Jala.
A week after the burial I was prepared to resume my work at the University of
Ghent in Belgium. In keeping with the Israeli "rules" for Palestinians who want
to leave the country, I applied for permission to fly from Ben Gurion. My
application was rejected, no reason given. I then asked local people with some
influence to help me, but their intervention was of no avail. In spite of being
rebuffed without explanation, I turned to Bethlehem University for assistance.
With a complete file of all my documents, copies of my passport, residence card
in Belgium, airline ticket, my mother's death certificate, a letter from the
University of Ghent requesting me to resume my work and an explanation of the
reasons for my return to Palestine to bury my mother, after waiting a few more
days, despite the best efforts of BU, again I was denied a travel permit. I
began to wonder if an institution like BU could not help me, who could? Friends
suggested the Belgian Consulate in Jerusalem. The Consulate expressed their
regrets when they were told by the Israeli authorities that my request was
flatly refused.
The University of Ghent was getting worried about the projects in which I was involved. With increased stress and frustration, again I decided to apply for permission for a fifth time with the help of a well known priest and other influential people. Days passed with my hopes buoyed up by promises like "tomorrow you will get it" or "call us this afternoon and we will decide" or "change your plane reservation so we will have enough time to think about it". My travel agent was very patient and cooperative in adjusting my hoped-for airline reservations. This tedious situation and psychological stress went on for almost two weeks. The war on Iraq broke out and it became almost impossible for anyone to leave the country due to what the Israelis called "security reasons". My last resort was to leave via Amman, Jordan. The war in Iraq made this not only stressful and difficult but also dangerous. Nevertheless, with the help of Jordanian friends, the necessary papers were completed and dispatched to the bridge authorities on the Jordanian side. Permission granted!
To get to the bridge meant leaving Beit Jala at 5:00 AM via taxi on back
roads since the normal roads are closed to Palestinians. Within fifteen minutes
we were stopped at an Israeli military checkpoint and two twenty- year old
Israeli soldiers stopped us. Explaining that I had a flight to catch that same
night and even showing them my flight ticket, they were very provocative,
knocking down my suitcase and telling me to "go back to Bethlehem, go back to
Hamas and Jihad". Feeling angry and frustrated, I had no choice then but to try
to go around that checkpoint on foot. With the kind assistance of the taxi
driver who, under the watchful eyes of the soldiers and their guns, carried my
suitcase over dirt mounds and also called another taxi driver on the other side
of the checkpoint to drive me to the bridge. My journey continued with a few
more or less vexatious checkpoints to cross. Finally I made it to the Allenby
Bridge, the crossing itself took very long due to the many security checks on
both the Israeli and the Jordanian sides. My friends in Amman met me at the
bridge and I spent the rest of the day with them. At last, I caught my plane to
Brussels at 2:30 the next morning.
The four-hour plane trip cost me four weeks of agony and suffering.
Muna Matar, Beit Jala
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