Passages
By Khaled Jarrar
Chance brought me together with seven Palestinian women in a white Ford van as they were waiting for one more passenger before embarking on the journey to find a route to get them to Jerusalem , hoping to make it in time for noon prayers on the second Friday during the month of Ramadan.
When I entered the vehicle, the driver took us towards the Qalandia checkpoint where we found thousands more like us who, after being prevented from entering Jerusalem, had decided to take the “roundabout route,” as the Ford drivers call it, disregarding its dangers … looking beyond the danger.
We set off on our journey to Jerusalem . The search began for a gap in the Wall through which we could cross to the other side.
After much difficulty and hardship we found our goal - a tunnel. So we got out of the van and continued on foot. We greatly hesitated before entering because of the intense darkness of the tunnel and its very narrow entrance. One could barely squeeze through because of the huge boulders piled up by the soldiers at the entrance in an effort to seal it. We were able to enter nonetheless.
Dirty water rose almost to our knees, making each step an adventure, especially in the pitch-black, which was made more eerie by the sound of a multitude of bugs and possibly mice. All this served to heighten our sense of anticipation and, perhaps, fear. Above all, none of us could be sure that this tunnel would lead to somewhere on the other side. It could be completely sealed! The pinpoint of light appearing at the end of the tunnel was not enough to guarantee that we would reach our destination that day.
“The light at the end of the tunnel” was not merely a figure of speech at the time - as is often the case within the Palestinian context - it was a reality. That patch of light was urging our footsteps towards it, giving us strength, resolve, and determination, and cloaking the situation in dread and gravity.
In the tunnel I jumped … I began to walk slowly … I stopped … I hesitated to go on … then I continued. Bit by bit I found myself halfway there. The seven women and I picked up the pace towards that patch of light.
It is a journey in passage. In my mind I pondered the thought that life is just a bridge or a passage, and that in life there is no immortality. It seemed to me that the concept of temporary crossing or passage in life is the only certainty, always maintaining its constant, neutral, and frozen aspects.
This journey following the steps of seven women who were searching for a path to lead them to prayers in Jerusalem - a path that was rough, dirty, and dark -provided me not only with the idea for my art project and its material but also with an exceptional emotional and spiritual journey, greater than the distance of that tunnel-ferry.
It is time; it is light exploding at the end of the tunnel, appearing as a flash glowing in the dark, manifesting as salvation - like a gate leading from some temporary earthly world to a world with no time. Despite all the signs and omens of death that surround the place and dominate it, the hope of crossing and reaching the other side is what gave this journey its meaning and purpose. It gave us the motivation to carry out this silent march towards a prayer different and contrary to the silence and dominance of death.
The words of those seven women, asking me not to photograph them for fear that their images would be made public, still ring in my memory.
Khaled Jarrar was born in 1976, and completed his studies in interior design at Palestine Polytechnic University in 1996. He entered the world of photography in 2003, and currently studies at the International Academy of Art - Palestine . His art exhibits include At the Checkpoint (2007).