A pleasant experience at the Jubarah checkpoint
Johny Walker at the Jubarah checkpoint.
Of the two checkpoints at Jubarah, the one nearest the village, the villagers say, is the worst.
Our first encounter with the soldiers was strange. As we walked up, the soldiers, who all looked very young, had just turned away a car, so we wondered how we would fare.
"Why do you want to go to Jabarah? It’s dangerous there." We said we wanted to see Farouq whose mother had died two weeks previously, and we'd only be an hour. A phone call was made to get clearance… The next moment one of the soldiers exclaimed , "Johny Walker!" and put his hand into a bag, producing a slice of bread. Coming from the direction of Jubarah, was an old Palestinian man riding a grey donkey, Johny Walker. There seemed a genuine feeling of mutual goodwill between the two men, and I asked if I could take a photo. I was surprised by the "Of course" reply.
I was about to 'shoot' when the soldier in charge ran out to be photographed as well. Soon, all was back to normal and we just presumed we would pass and said we’d see them in an hour, and walked on, hardly believing our luck.
We located Farouq, met some of his family, wandered around the desolate village, and made our way back to the checkpoint.
The soldiers were not busy and seemed to want to talk. We told them about our work and asked them how they felt at their age being stuck at a checkpoint, not being able to enjoy themselves. "But we must defend our country" one of them said earnestly. "I'd really like to take a photo of you all, but I suppose it’s not allowed," I said. "Come on," said Johny Walker's friend, and lay down on the ground, rifle poised to shoot.
The soldier in charge joined in with knee bent. Finally the third took a stance and all three laughing, I captured the moment. Truly they were normal youngsters, enjoying a brief moment of respite from their duty.
The one in charge then escorted us the 200 or so metres to the road checkpoint, asking us searching questions about the conclusions we had reached in our two weeks in Tulkarem.
He was quite subdued when we said we wouldn't like to be a Palestinian with the lack of freedom of movement and the humiliation of having to prove one's identity. We approached the checkpoint and the commander came out and asked the soldier if he wanted supper that night in such a way as to mean "What are you doing talking with these people?" The soldier's attitude changed immediately. He was back in the real world.
A service came by and we left, hoping he would get his meal that night.
