Down Winding Roads

I've developed a twitch. It happens over my right eye and it happens as I drive away from Israeli checkpoints. It's the oddest thing...or not. Israeli checkpoints have become extremely stressful for me. I have the "right" passport and I rarely get more than a perfunctory nod before passing through. So in comparison to Palestinians, I have it easy. Yet the stress is obviously getting to me and the twitch is now becoming a predictable talisman.

I've never scientifically measured it, but I can assure you that I can't drive more than 10 kilometers from my house without crossing a checkpoint or being stopped by an Israeli or Palestinian police officer. What is freaky is that I feel like I have something to hide no matter who is manning the checkpoint or waving the car down.

Recently, a protest which lead to a checkpoint closure which lead to a 5km long traffic jam forced me to take a 30km detour to reach my house after a very stressful day in Jerusalem. My son was with me in our jalopy, which is so old it lacks some of the usual pleasant diversions, such as a radio. I just couldn't wait to be back to our house, and preferably before dark, as the unlit and winding west bank roads can be difficult to drive past dark.

During that day my car had been opened and searched at various points in Jerusalem (shopping malls, Jaffa St), as well as my personal effects searched (stores, the US Consulate, hotels). The one part that made me look forward to the 30km detour was the fact that it brings me through one of the "easiest" checkpoints between Jerusalem and the West Bank - no passports checked, no trunks to be opened, no nosy questions. But as I approached the checkpoint, my car was waved over by an Israeli policeman. I pulled the car up slowly to the side of the road. As I opened the window, the policeman started to greet me in Arabic. Before he could finish, I looked at him and sighed. "I am an American," I stated with a tedious look all over my face. As soon as I heard myself speak those words, they sounded so laughable - what do they mean in this place where identity is about religion and what side of the wall you live on? The Israeli policeman responded in a hurried voice, "American? ok, just go ahead," as he quickly waved me on and moved to another car behind me. I was surprised it worked, but was happy to avoid any questions. If I had to explain that I lived in Ramallah, things would have gotten very complicated very fast.

On another trip out of the West Bank to Tel Aviv, I was riding along in the car admiring the greening spring hillsides and terraces of the West Bank when I suddenly saw an Israeli solider standing up on a cliff over looking the road. The now sixth sense screamed to my brain, "danger ahead, slow down!" As I let up on the gas and came around a bend in the road, I was suddenly upon an impromptu Israeli checkpoint known as a "flying checkpoint." An army jeep and about 4 Israeli soldiers just set up shop in the middle of the road, checking IDs and passengers. I slammed on my break, and was certain that the squealing noise of the burning rubber of the tires would certainly invite a round of pointed guns at the car - maybe I've watched too many movies. Luckily for me, I must have been so obviously and quickly tagged as a non-threat, being female with a child in the car. When the soldiers walked up, I apologized for almost running the checkpoint, and they smiled and waved me through. As soon as I passed through, my right eye brow began twitching like mad. Ah yes, the checkpoint twitch!