A Day with the Mobile Clinic in Talfit
- Dan Turner
- Mar 12
- 3 min read
Updated: Mar 12
The mobile clinic of Physicians for Human Rights arrives in Talfit, south of Nablus, a village with about 5,000 inhabitants. The way there cries out the reality of segregation – a primary, well-tended set of roads for Jewish settlers, with no exits to Palestinian localities whose residents must use old, narrow roads that slowly wind among the villages. A ‘mysterious’ hand has sprayed paint over the Arabic names on the road signs. Here and there we see the sprayed slogans “Death to Arabs” and even “Only Transfer Will Bring Peace”. On our way, Salah told us that Smotrich decided to close the Physicians for Human Rights’ bank account, and the association has urgently applied to the court – which will discuss the issue in two months’ time.
Entry into Talfit is possible only through a single entrance – the other three are blocked, as in the rest of Palestinian localities throughout the West Bank, blocked from all sides by metal gates. I could see no security justification for that, as the entrance we used was uninspected. In Talfit, unemployment and livelihood hardships reign, as workers cannot enter Israel for work, and the roads have been closed off for several months now, so business is next to impossible.

At the end of the clinic work, which took place in elementary school classrooms, three children approached me. They could not understand what a Jew was doing there and refused to shake my hand. Am I in fact a Muslim? What do I think about Palestine? After a long talk I realized that this might have been the very first time they spoke with an Israeli who is not a settler or a soldier at a checkpoint. They thought about that, and then they said that if I am a good person, how come I don’t become a Muslim to get to heaven? I said that heaven is meant for people who treat other people well – people who do not kill, do not occupy, harass, humiliate, expel, kidnap, and destroy, regardless of their religion. We parted with a hug and a debate whether Messi is better than Ronaldo. While looking at them as they walked off, I thought that there is a whole generation of Palestinians growing up here who have never met an Israeli at eye level, and vice versa – an entire generation of Israelis who have never met a Palestinian outside a checkpoint or through their rifle sights.
Going back on the main road we ran into a sudden military checkpoint. The soldiers were masked and their name tags removed. A long, crowded line of Palestinian cars. No inspection, no answers nor explanations, and the Palestinians don’t dare speak to the soldiers anyway (they were rather nice to us…). The Palestinians say they could be standing this way for 3 or 4 hours. After a long while, the soldiers signaled them to move and the junction was opened, no explanation given. After another quarter of an hour, again, a kilometer long line of cars, trying to turn right into Nablus. Looks like it will take them hours. Daily routine in the West Bank.

Prof. Dan Turner is a volunteer at Physicians for Human Rights.
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