It’s 3:50AM when my alarm clock goes off and I feel terrible. Some 20 minutes later Luc and I set off for Qalandia to the sounds of the first muezzin call for prayer this day. As we reach the checkpoint we already see 3 rows of around 20 men praying at the exit of the terminal. They never pray before the entrance, they want to leave the praying after they had left behind hassle of passing through the checkpoint.I go to the Ramallah side of the terminal. Luc will stay on Qualandia side to count people who crossed. This early in the morning this whole experience makes me sick. The terminal is empty, cold and quite scary. Its still minutes before the sunrise, so the air is still humid and smells of urine coming from the corners of the terminal.
On the other side, I slowly adjust to the checkpoint reality. There will be more and more people coming in with every minute. I have my little morning routines at Qalandia. I greet the bejgala and zatar seller and do the first round to check how many ID boots are open. At this point of day I have a ritual conversation with one of the sherut drivers. Married? - Yes. Children? - No. Why no children? Than I lift my hands to heaven - Insallah - I say. Where are you from? Bulanda! Bulanda expensive? (always!) Hmm, I don’t know, it depends. How much chicken? - he never gives up. The whole chicken? - Yes. I don’t know about the whole chicken. One kilo of chicken is around 25 shekels. Cheaper than Palestine - he always exclaims at that point!
