“Jerusalem” is the English name for "Al-Quds"

When I go to al-Quds there are always a few things that strike me:

1) Joggers.

2) Dogs on leashes.

3) Babies. In strollers and in bellies. So many babies.

But the thing that really strikes me is how, in that 10-minute drive, which I am privileged to be able to do with ease, the world somersaults and I might as well be in a posh southern California town, only the Hebrew signs give it away. All the sudden, one who has the privilege to, can forget.  And one who has the privilege of being unaware, can remain blissfully so, despite the few minutes it is to the annexed eastern part of the city, or the few short miles it is to occupied Palestine.  There is almost nothing that says ‘conflict’ in West al-Quds. In East al-Quds (which is on the Palestinian side of the Green Line but has been and continues to be further annexed by Israel) one can distantly (yet distinctly) see the Wall (which divides East Jerusalem, with predominantly Palestinian residents, from the villages just outside of the city--- in some cases I’ve heard of the Wall tearing straight through those villages, forcing family members to sit on rooftops to converse.) There are also groups of young soldiers posted throughout the old city and along the streets.  If one looks closely, the segregated busses become apparent, the green Egged busses that go throughout Jerusalem and out to the illegal Israeli settlements outside the city, and the white and blue busses that go from Bethlehem and the checkpoint to the Old City in East al-Quds. If one thinks hard, one might consider how the Wall looks when it’s cutting through a village, separating Palestinians from Palestinians, or severing a family from their olive trees, their livelihood. But most people do not, or choose not, to think about those things. And in West Jerusalem, they don’t have to.

An illegal settlement just outside of Bethlehem. 

Recently, I was in the 24, an “Arab bus,” going to Checkpoint 300, the ominous cement pen that serves as an entrance/exit/barrier to and from Bethlehem. I was sitting next to a hajja, an elderly woman, and we were going through Jerusalem. The bus stopped to let on passengers.  Then it pulled over. A random inspection. The driver got down, and an Israeli soldier boarded the bus. She barely even opened her mouth. Her presence spoke for itself, demanding that everyone present identification & a permit or ID allowing their presence in Israel. I pulled out my blue and gold passport. She didn’t check to see if it was actually mine. She didn’t check to see if my visa was still valid. They rarely do. The hajja did not let the soldier’s presence turn her into a docile citizen. She let the soldier come all the way to her, and ask for her ID before pulling it out of her breast pocket. A small act of resistance.

That was the third random check I’ve experienced in the past week, and up until the past week I’ve never seen one happen inside Israel (granted, I’ve gone between al-Quds and Bethlehem a lot more in the past week than ever before).  These random “inspections” serve to intimidate and dehumanize Palestinians, reminding them, once again, that they are not free in their own land, they are all viewed as “potential terrorists” and they are living under occupation.

Living under occupation.

Living under occupation.

The Apartheid Wall cutting into Bethlehem to surround Rachel's Tomb

Random military outposts. Checkpoints. Makeshift checkpoints they weren’t there yesterday. Military tower. Walls. Barbed wire. Soldiers with guns. Another random military outpost. Another wall. More soldiers with guns. Did you notice, my right eye says to my left eye, that the walls are always built to hug, to squeeze, to choke the towns that are dotted with the minarets of mosques? Did you notice, how the green spaces, the groves, the valleys, are always on the other side? And how, on the other side of the green spaces, the groves, the valleys are the uniform houses, little boxes on the hillsides, with their blue and white flags? Living under occupation. My eyes are learning to read the landscape. 

the Aida refugee camp mosque

Palestinians from the West Bank and Gaza need permits to go into Israel.  Even though the Green Line runs directly through al-Quds and well north of Bethlehem, skirting the southern part of the city, the Apartheid Wall is a tight hat squeezed onto Bethlehem, and “Israel” starts after the Wall. There are several massive illegal settlements that occupy space between Jerusalem and Bethlehem, well beyond the Green Line. Some Palestinians get work permits and commute to al-Quds. Some receive short-term permissions for religious holidays. My friend Ibrahim got a 2-week permit for a Christian fest time. It arrived in the mail the day before it expired. Another time, Ibrahim applied for a day-long permit to take an exam in Jerusalem as part of an application to a German academic program. Despite having letters from the university, he was denied the permission. The bottom line is that many, many more Palestinians don’t receive permits than those who do.  Some Palestinians, mostly men, who don't get permits, work in al-Quds illegally, finding ways to get past the wall, to gain access to higher wages and, often, more work opportunities.  

Post and photos by Jesse.