Trouble in Barta'a (Part 1)

The clinic was shut on Monday when we arrived at Barta'a. Something didn't feel right. I called Abu Rami who didn't sound like his usual self. He said Ikram, the receptionist should be over soon to open the clinic. We decided to drive to the checkpoint to see what was going on. It was business as usual at the checkpoint, only light human traffic passing through at 9 am. We started walking down the barbed wire corridor, hoping to get to the area where Palestinians get 'processed' on their way in and out, when we were abruptly stopped by a security officer, gun pointing at us from the watch tower. "Are you Israeli?" he asked. Yes, I replied. He seemed more puzzled than us: "Why are you here?" "Because we want to see what our patients have to go through before they arrive at the clinic" I replied. "Well, you can't go here, this area is only for Palestinians. Israelis are only allowed to go through by car". We didn't have the required permits anyway, so we turned back, feeling very weird. People coming through the checkpoint seemed calm and indifferent, but I couldn't help wondering what impact this daily encounter has on one's psyche. Barbed wire corridors, watch towers with guns pointing in your direction on your way to work, or to visit friends, or shopping or just going from A to B.

Back at the clinic, the doors were still shut. Another phone call to Abu Rami, who says Ikram is on her way. She arrives soon after and opens the door. On the doorstep, just inside the clinic she picks up a blood stained shirt. "It's Abu Rami's son" she says. "He was stabbed last night during a fight between rival gangs in the village. He is injured but alive in hospital. Abu Rami is with him". To be continued..