Border Crossings

The barman in the Bethlehem Hotel looked delighted to see us and positively beamed when we agreed to try the only local brew,Taybeh. The bar and indeed the rest of the hotel – a building several storeys high but now rarely fully occupied – had probably seen better days.

Tourism to Bethlehem has dropped significantly since the erection of a separation wall in 2002, with visitors opting to be bussed in to its famous sites by tour companies from the swanky hotels of Tel Aviv and Jerusalem rather than staying within the city itself. Now Bethlehem, busy around the key attractions of the Church of the Nativity and the Shepherds’ Fields during the day, is eerily quiet at night. Walking into town one evening we passed several shops, owners sitting hopefully in doorways and excited at the prospect of passing trade. One leapt to his feet, calling:

“You are English? You want beer?”

When we didn’t respond he tried, bafflingly, “Irish? You want the Virgin Mary?”

We continued into town, the 25-foot wall casting its looming, oppressive shadow at every turn. The wall, explained the waiter at Afteem, a wonderful, friendly restaurant hidden beneath an otherwise silent Manger Square, has devastated the town. It has separated people from their families and their livelihoods in the form of olive groves which ended up on the wrong side of the wall. Queues at checkpoints are often long and remain stationary for hours, affecting business and humiliating Palestinians who brave them daily just to make a living. Unemployment in Bethlehem, he said, was over 60%.

“And yet there is wit and vibrancy everywhere: walking home we passed a cafe cheekily called “Stars and Bucks”, complete with an almost-familiar logo; on the ever-present wall someone has wryly daubed “Can we have our ball back?”

Immobile on a bus in one of those very queues leaving the city early next morning I brooded on the injustice of it all. As I got angrier a young, armed soldier who must have thought I was looking at him caught my eye. He smiled. I smiled back. As we eventually pulled away he gave me a shy wave. Of all my encounters in Bethlehem this touched me the most: this friendly youth, probably on his military service, stuck patrolling a checkpoint in the dusty heat, showing a glimmer of humanity in the midst of a terrible situation that was not of his making.