top of page
Home

A Day with the Mobile Clinic in Talfit

  • Writer: Dan Turner
    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.  


I use Road 60 to get to Jerusalem. Along the road all entrances and exits of the Palestinian localities are closed. For weeks now. People leave their car on one side of the checkpoint and walk several hundred meters looking for rides or paying a cab only to get out of their homes. That is the situation in most of the West Bank now. We are deepening the hatred and conflict. One could only imagine Palestinian rage and humiliation. Naturally, I stopped to offer them a ride, but they were afraid to join me.
I use Road 60 to get to Jerusalem. Along the road all entrances and exits of the Palestinian localities are closed. For weeks now. People leave their car on one side of the checkpoint and walk several hundred meters looking for rides or paying a cab only to get out of their homes. That is the situation in most of the West Bank now. We are deepening the hatred and conflict. One could only imagine Palestinian rage and humiliation. Naturally, I stopped to offer them a ride, but they were afraid to join me.

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.


On Road 6 going back to Jerusalem I received startled phone calls from my Jahalin friends at Khan al-Ahmar. Several armed men came down from the new Jewish colonist outpost next to their hamlet, meaning to take one of the flocks. They said it’s their land. Men from the village faced them and would not let them do it. We called the police and the Border Patrol and in the meantime the colonists left, threatening to return. The Khan residents say they have not been sleeping nights, jump out at the slightest sounds, fearing the colonists might be coming to steal goats or set one of the houses on fire. Their condition is still better than that of the Ras Al Ein (Auja) community that was attacked by dozens of Israelis from the outposts in the area, stealing hundreds of sheep and goats. The police managed to bring back about 30 and arrested one of the Palestinians.
On Road 6 going back to Jerusalem I received startled phone calls from my Jahalin friends at Khan al-Ahmar. Several armed men came down from the new Jewish colonist outpost next to their hamlet, meaning to take one of the flocks. They said it’s their land. Men from the village faced them and would not let them do it. We called the police and the Border Patrol and in the meantime the colonists left, threatening to return. The Khan residents say they have not been sleeping nights, jump out at the slightest sounds, fearing the colonists might be coming to steal goats or set one of the houses on fire. Their condition is still better than that of the Ras Al Ein (Auja) community that was attacked by dozens of Israelis from the outposts in the area, stealing hundreds of sheep and goats. The police managed to bring back about 30 and arrested one of the Palestinians.
 

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


Comentarios


Back to Top
bottom of page