Grenzpolezei

We zig zagged through the narrow streets of Beit Jala, a huge neighborhood that is part of Bethlehem, the holy city that is a suburb of Jerusalem. Part of the West Bank, Bethlehem is under the control of the Palestinian Authority, and therefore is territory that the government of Israel has partioned off with high concrete walls capped with circular strings of concertina wire. Our itinerary for the day allowed for an optional tour of Bethlehem, but because Israeli citizens are no longer allowed inside Palestinian controlled land, we were on our own. Thankfully, we were escorted by folks from the Holy Land Christian Ecumenical Foundation. They were offering us firsthand glimpses of life in the West Bank, as much as can be seen in half a day.
They wanted to show us an apartment that they said was one of the only buildings situated up close to the new wall -- the wall is about three years old, they told us. My mind's eye didn't prepare me for the sight, though. We emerged from one of the main streets onto a side road that led downhill to a neighborhood that had been pretty much eradicated when the wall was put into position. The wall itself is made of connecting slabs of concrete that look to be maybe five feet wide and Lord knows how high, maybe 50 feet or more. Interspersed at critical junctions along the wall the Israelis have constructed round watch towers like you will see on prison walls, an appropriate comparison, since the Palestinian Christians we talked to today say that life in Bethlehem and Beit Jala is like living in a prison. I was instantly reminded, though, of the watch towers that used to hover over the old East-German border. In my Army days, I used to patrol that border, escorted by the West German border police, known as the Grenzpolezei. As I got out of the van, I peered up to the watch tower that overlooked the apartment, wondering how many soldiers were watching us, if they were photographing us, if they were aiming at us.
The apartment building was a shock to see. Surrounded on three sides by the wall, it appeared to be an abberation in the planning on the wall's route, the concrete divider here bowing out like an inverted omega symbol with the building set in its middle. The HCEF folks had called one of the apartment dwellers in advance, and so we already were expected. We weren't going to sit for coffee, which is the Arab way (these were all Arab Christians we were visiting. In fact, Bethlehem's population is about 40 percent Christian). Instead, we were going to say hello, look around and then depart. There was some concern that if we stayed too long we would cause suspicion and might alert an army patrol which might then come to the apartment. We didn't want to cause these people any difficulties. So we went up four flights of steps to one of two apartments, where we were greeted by a grandmother and her three grandsons. It was a beautiful apartment inside, but when you peered out the windows or stepped out onto their terrace, the view was not of this world. Everywhere we looked, the wall loomed even higher than the building, the concertina wire a menacing metal kudzu that grows wild in these parts. I spied a security camera, so I moved to another part of the building to get a view. After only a few moments, we shook hands and walked back down the steps.
"Would you like to walk around the building?" our HCEF host asked. Of course. We explored the DMZ that was actually quite narrow, graffiti festooning the walls with messages that seemed benign and out of place, such as "Jesus Loves You," among others. This was an uneasy moment, so we didn't linger, but as I walked towards the van to leave, I looked back up at the watch tower that was placed to monitor this sector of the wall. Back in the day, when I patrolled the German border, we would occasionally wave to our friends across the border, figuring that sooner or later we'd make their East German mug shot file. I was tempted, but I decided not to wave. Either I'm older and wiser, or I was concerned that, this time, I might actually be in danger.