Last Wednesday was a day to remember because I left Ramallah, the city where I live, to another Palestinian city for the first time in a little over six years*. I went to the village of Deir-Al-Ghusoon near Tulkarm to visit two of my friends who live there. You might have concluded that I am lazy for not moving around so often, but laziness is not the reason. It’s actually the restrictions that the Israeli military imposes on the movement of Palestinians which come in the form of meaningless road blocks and banning them to use the main highways between cities which Jewish settlers use (I know what you are thinking…yes, some people call this apartheid).

I began planning for the trip a week in advance; I was supposed to go there with two of my friends who later withdrew. On Wednesday morning, my trip began from the main station in Ramallah. The bus left at 10:45. We passed through our first Israeli roadblock, at the Attara Bridge 15 minutes later and things went smoothly there. We used a highway for another 30 minutes before having to exit it to narrow village roads. The scenery was amazing, with endless hills planted with olive trees undisturbed except by Israeli settlements or military camps on hilltops.

As we moved closer to Tulkarm, the route of the separation wall, which made its way through the villagers’ citrus fields, began to come into sight. At the entrance to Tulkarm, an Israeli military roadblock stopped us. They made us come down from the bus and walk to the other side of the roadblock, a distance of 50 meters. On the other side, we took another bus, which took us to Tulkarm. I was tempted to ask the soldiers guarding the roadblock why they did not allow the bus to go through if they were going to let us pass on foot without inspecting us, but this was quite risky.

At 12:45, we arrived in Tulkarm. My friend was waiting there. He gave me a tour through the streets of Tulkarm. We went through the old part of the city where the more traditional stores and the food market are located. We next moved to the newer part of the city with higher buildings, more modern shops and quite a few hospitals. We also came across two of the oldest and most well known high schools in the West Bank, Al-Adawiah and Al-Fadeliah schools. Many of my colleagues at Birzeit graduated from those two, and they both have a very good reputation. Next, we visited the Khaduri area where a community college and the Agriculture faculty of Al-Najah University are located. Close by is the city’s martyrs cemetery. From there one could clearly see a completed portion of the separation wall and right behind it is the city of Netanya (aka Um-Khaled). My friend told me that the area between Tulkarm and Netania used to have citrus fields owned by Palestinian farmers, but the Israeli military cleared them to build the separation wall.

At the end of the tour, my fried and I met with his brother and a relative of theirs. The four of us headed to their home in the village of Deir-Al-Ghusoon. Tulkarm is smaller and cleaner than Ramallah. People seemed to be more conservative than in Ramallah. Overall, I had a very good impression of the city.

When we arrived in Deir-Al-Ghusoon, it was already lunchtime. We waited for half an hour until my friend’s father came back from work. It was then time to eat, and in the tradition of Palestinian villagers, this is no small affair. My host, which in this case is my friend’s father, kept adding food to my plate every time it became half-empty. The food was great and I was not allowed to stop eating until I was about to explode! Then we had sweet tea before setting out on a tour through Deir-Al-Ghusoon.

On our tour, I had the chance to talk to many people from the village. It was easy to see how proud the people were, and they ought to be. Deir-Al-Ghusoon boasts a high number of PhD. holders, a few current and former ministers and other accomplishments that one will not find in most villages. It was easy to see how close people were to each other (which can be good and bad at the same time). Many people are even, directly or indirectly, related. I was also supposed to meet another friend of mine who lives in Deir-Al-Ghusoon, but due to some changes in our plans we ended up not doing so.

When we arrived back at my friend’s home it was already dark. We had supper and chatted for a while, mostly about politics. They proposed to play a game of cards, but because of my below average card-playing skill we decided to cancel (there was not enough time to teach me). By now, it was already midnight; we watched a movie and went to sleep.

The next morning we had breakfast. I prepared myself to leave, they asked me to stay for at least one more day but, unfortunately, I could not. My friend’s brother decided to come to Ramallah with me because he wanted to visit a friend of his. We said good-bye to the family and left Deir-Al-Ghusoon to Tulkarm. In Tulkarm, we went to the bus station to take a bus to Ramallah. The driver of the bus informed us that there was a checkpoint at the entrance to Tulkarm and they did not allow people whose identification cards indicted they were from Tulkarm to leave Tulkarm (Imagine someone telling you cannot leave the city where you live!). This meant that my friend’s brother could not accompany me back to Ramallah. On the journey back to Ramallah, we were stopped by three Israeli checkpoints, on the first one we had our ID cards inspected (so that no one from Tulkarm could leave Tulkarm!). Two hours after leaving Tulkarm, I was back in Ramallah.

» Trip’s flickr photo set

* I have passed through Jericho to Jordan several times during this period. The Guardian’s Donkey’s pace, by Firas Khalil, is a really good description of this trip.