11th January
East Jerusalem.
It was decided that although no word had been heard from the Israelis as to whether the permits would be honoured to let the children through to play in Jerusalem, we would set off from each of the three branches and see what happened at the checkpoints, in the hope they would let us pass without checking too closely. On the buses from Ramallah and Bethlehem, any foreigners that were available were recruited to sit at the front, as this usually helps passage through checkpoints. I was at the front of the Bethlehem bus, along with our visiting conductor and clarinet coach, and as we waited in the queue of cars to approach the checkpoint we talked over the story for the soldiers.
I was to be the spokesperson for the group, and had planned what to say if the questions began. What we hadn’t bargained on was the checkpoint soldier being one of the very few who do not, or claim not to, speak English. This meant that our bus driver was now the man doing the talking, except when direct questions were needed of, or by me. To cut short a 20-minute-wait-long story, after checking some details we were denied entry and turned around. Despite my protestations that all the children had permits that were issued by Israel, the soldiers were having none of it. At this point I suggested the conductor left the bus and walked through the checkpoint to get a taxi to the venue in Jerusalem. The other option now for the rest of us was to try one of the other checkpoints, but these were even less likely to let us pass, and at least in that case then the conductor would be in the right place to begin rehearsing with those students from Jerusalem, and possibly Ramallah if they managed to get through, which it was beginning to look as if we would not.
We decide to try the checkpoint at Beit Jala, and make the ten minute drive to that side of Bethlehem. On the way, I begin planning what to say at the first checkpoint again, as I expect to be back there within the hour. This is the checkpoint we are supposed to use and Beit Jala will definitely send us back if they check up on who we are.
As we arrive at the Beit Jala checkpoint, I sit in the very front seat by the driver, with all the children farther back, and out of sight. The soldier stops the bus, and waves for the driver to open the window. This doesn’t look promising, and the soldier asks what we’re doing. I just show him my passport and say ‘British!’ The soldier makes the assumption I hoped he would, that the bus is full of British tourists, and he waves us through. I have to say, I don’t like this seemingly imperialistic approach, but the sad fact is that it works.
As we pull out of the checkpoint, I can’t believe our luck. It sinks in that we have managed to cross into Jerusalem on one of the strictest days of security not only in time for the concert, but in time to rehearse as well. On top of this, despite the first checkpoint sending us back, at the second it could barely have been easier.
The only other logistical uncertainty now is whether the Ramallah bus also made it. This is answered when we pull into the Palestinian National Theatre and immediately behind us, as if in convoy, it arrives. The sight of both buses delivering all our students is a relief indeed, and the atmosphere is jubilant as if we’ve already played the concert. This is understandable, for the most nervous part of the day has passed and the students can now enjoy performing the concert.
The other good news from today is that our violin teacher who was denied entry into Israel last week managed to enter through the airport yesterday, and it’s great to see him there at the concert as well. It is nice when things work out for the best, and for a few moments at least, I am reminded that this is the way it should always be. Here are some photos of the children too dangerous to be allowed into Jerusalem to play music.
The concert was full to the rafters, with people standing by the doors and in aisles, and the generous ovation at the end was absolutely deserved by all our students, finishing off a day that felt like a triumph in more ways than one.
