Shoved and shamed, they are the lucky ones
The Age
Wednesday June 17, 2009
Jason Koutsoukis reports from Bethlehem on the daily ordeal of the Palestinian job queue. THE keenest men start queuing about 2am at the Gilo checkpoint that divides the West Bank city of Bethlehem from Jerusalem. The earlier they are, the better chance they have of getting to work on time when the gates open at 5.15am. By then, about 2000 Palestinian workers are packed into the steel corral that snakes its way along the foot of the eight-metre-high concrete separation barrier.Pushing and shoving in a space designed for a single-file queue, the crowd surges towards a single turnstile."Once the gate opens, it takes a long time for everyone to get through, so you have to be here early so you get through quickly," says Fathi Zahran, 57, a construction worker. "I start work at 7am, but to make sure I get to work by then, I come here every day at 3am."Sometimes latecomers will try to climb through holes in the fence to get a better place in the queue. Others literally try to walk over people to get to the front, where they must then go through a lengthy process of verifying their ID papers and pass an electronic scan of their handprint before making it to the relative calm of a bus stop on the other side.A father of eight, Mr Zahran faces another long queue to get back into the occupied West Bank at the end of each day's work, as Israeli law forbids Palestinian workers from staying in Israel overnight. "I usually get home at 8pm," he says. "It's not a life, but I am pleased I have a job so that my children can have a life."Men like Mr Zahran call themselves the lucky ones. With unemployment in the West Bank touching 20 per cent, and per capita incomes of about a quarter of that in Israel, only about 30,000 of the occupied West Bank's 2 million Palestinian residents have permits to work in Israel.Just to get a work permit is an ordeal in itself. First, workers have to find a potential employer to sponsor their application. Then they have to undergo a multitude of security checks. Any sort of infraction with the Israel Defence Forces or Israeli police is usually grounds to deny a permit.Youssef Slihi, 56, who also works in construction, spends $US15 ($A18.70) a day on transport to and from the Gilo checkpoint, for a monthly salary of just over $US3000."Many employers in Israel are good; they treat us well. I have worked the one job for many years," Mr Slihi says. "But at any time, all it takes is for the employer to make a phone call and I lose my employment. I know of people who make their workers pay them so that they keep their permit."Some workers bring cardboard mats to try and sleep a few extra hours while waiting in line, but most spend their time standing, talking and - for the more devout - praying.Mahmoud Ahmad points to the separation barrier and says: "This means that people do not get along, have learned that they cannot live in peace together, so I pray that God can help us and we can find a better solution."Amon Kofi, 33, who works as a vegetable seller, suggests that it is daily rituals like these that feed the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. "I stand here every day and I feel shame underneath this wall, standing in this cage like an animal," he says.
© 2009 The Age
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