August 13, 2001 — Mudeif Productions

An Arab-wide strike was in effect today, including Birzeit, of course, so no class (that’s two days that we've lost due to the current situation). We laid low in Ramallah before heading to Jerusalem to meet a friend in town for a visit - great timing. She told us to meet her for lunch at the American Colony Hotel, and so we headed in (walking across at Qalandiya checkpoint).

When we got close, we saw that a crowd was gathered around the American Colony (right by Orient House). Soldiers and police had barricaded the street, and there was a protest in action. We tried to get across the barricade and into the hotel, but were forbidden entry. As we looked for a phone number to call our friend, we heard a commotion as an Israeli policeman in uniform and one in plainclothes were dragging a man along the ground and into a police car. As the crowd rushed towards them, the plainclothesman threw a stun grenade - our way. It detonated about five feet from us (they’re very loud).

After a few minutes, we and our American passports argued our way across the barricade and found our friend chain-smoking nervously in the lobby. Soon after, the place was over-run by journalists (the American Colony is known as the place for journalists) - apparently the newsworthy bits had passed. The calm in the restaurant (delicious food, flowery gardens, tweeting birds) was quite a contrast with what we had walked through.

After lunch we headed back, deciding we needed to get into Birzeit tonight rather than tomorrow morning. Qalandiya was normal, except for the glass bottle-throwing youth who were targeting Israeli jeeps on the road. Surda, however, was surreal - the general strike meant that there was no commuter traffic. The soldiers weren't letting anyone go through, except on the rare occasion (old people, mothers, etc.). So we had to wait a long time for a taxi to fill up. This kind of stuff gets really old once the excitement wears off, and once you’re actually going somewhere and not coming to see the action.

We went and sat across from the Israeli soldiers' jeep. The soldiers stared at us and asked us what we were doing there. Marthame said we would leave when they let enough people through to fill up our taxi. They didn’t seem to like that either, but it wasn’t long before they let enough people through - maybe they were tired of us watching them. We returned and began to pack for Zababdeh, but found our water had run out again. Once again, someone had shut the valve on the roof. How annoying.