Tulkarem, a lost car and Mr Arafat

A long workday is nearing its end. We (Anders joined me) started 07.40 from Jerusalem. In Ramallah, we met up with Naser, ANERA’s agronomist and headed north to Tulkarem. Here, ANERA is supporting farmers with green houses, and help them to produce higher quality vegetables for export. I was there to take photos of the farmers and their new green houses.

In Jerusalem, the sun was shining from a blue sky, but in Tulkarem, heaven opened for the first serious rain this winter. We became muddy but all the farmers smiled happily – water is a scarce and valuable commodity in this part of the world.

Farmer Essam Masarwi tending his tomato plants
in one of the green houses provided by ANERA

The members of the local farmer's cooperative listen
attentively to an expert brought in by our program.
We drank yet another cup of coffee.

Late afternoon, we were back in Ramallah. We parked the car downtown and took a little stroll. Anders plays backgammon just like me, so we stopped at a simple yet nice café for a glass of tea with fresh mint and a few games. Nice!

Backgammon and tea in Ramallah

When we walked back to the car again, it was not there. Blimey! Was it stolen? We were in the middle of Ramallah, it was pouring down, and getting dark. What to do? I spotted a few Palestinian police officers in the vicinity and approached them, explaining that my car gone missing.
“What brand and color?”
“A white Isuzu)”
“Ah. We took it away, you are not allowed to park here”

It turns out that lawless Ramallah turned into something very much less lawless overnight, and the cops were towing away droves of cars from the streets. For years, you just parked where you found some space, but lately, it seems that they have been painting the curb stones red&white or black&white to signal where you can park or not. Big surprise for all of us!

Now, it should be said that I have always found the Palestinian police very reasonable. After explaining my situation and that I am working for an aid organization, that I have parked here for the last year, just like everybody else, that I saw no sign forbidding parking and that there was a lot of cars already parked there (and implicating that I am a somewhat stupid but nonetheless kind and good-hearted foreigner) they arranged a lift to the car disposal place, and wrote me a recommendation letter in Arabic. When we came there, I got a warm feeling inside, seeing our car again. I once again told my story for the three policemen in charge and gave them the letter. Ten minutes later we shook hands and drove away, no fine, just smiles ☺

I have been at Yassir Arafat’s grave inside the president compound (the Muqatta) several times, but then they were still building the mausoleum. Now it is ready and we went there to have a look. It is a surprisingly stylish and impressing setup in white stone and strict minimalistic style. If you are in town anyway, don’t miss it.

The mausoleum in the Muqatta.
Yassir Arafat is the one in the middle.

Back in Jerusalem, we picked up Femke at the office and then had smoked salmon and Swedish gravad lax-sauce for dinner, together with dill-boiled potatoes and some boiled egg.
After that, Femke and me worked with a report for two hours while Anders took a nap in the sofa.
Unfortunately, Femke is still working. We wee planning to go to our local Russian jazz bar for a Czech beer, but I don’t know if we still have the energy for it…