The 25 years that have passed since the signing of the Oslo Accords between Israel and the Palestinians have left their mark on the State of Israel and on the areas of the West Bank under the control of the Palestinian Authority. The people who were part of the process have not escaped the effects of time, but even more than time, it is the provisions of the accords that have changed and also scarred Israel's landscapes and the territories beyond the 1967 borders.

While their social and moral impact on Israeli and Palestinian society are hard to assess or document, the concrete impact of the accords is very much in evidence on the ground — even if we have already become accustomed to it and if the average Israel views it as natural and as having always existed. That is what I was sent by Haaretz to photograph on the 25th anniversary of the start of the Oslo process.

From the start, it was clear that I was not sufficiently familiar with the subject. I therefore beg the forgiveness of former Supreme Court Justice Elyakim Rubinstein, who due to a mistake on my part, was a candidate as a subject of my photo essay until the phone call in which he explained to me that he was not connected to Oslo in any way. I started reading and asking everyone whom I came across — neighbors, acquaintances, random Palestinians whom I met and historians of the conflict, what Oslo meant to them. This research generated an endless list of images that due to lack of time was mercifully shortened. Once the concept took shape, I set out to begin taking the photos.

On Manara Square in Ramallah, I pretended to be a tourist (from Azerbaijan, Russia and the United States) wishing to take a selfie with a pair of Palestinian policemen. Only one of them, the younger of the two, seemed enthusiastic about the idea. At Rabin Square in Tel Aviv, a woman who was demonstrating alone about some unknown issue started following me and taking my picture, because she was convinced that I had been sent by her opponents in the media or by the local authorities.

>> Rabin’s man in Oslo analyzes what went wrong – and right – with the 1993 accords | Noa Landau ■ Imagine Israel today, had the Oslo Accords been implemented | Akiva Eldar ■ With Oslo, Israel’s intention was never peace or Palestinian statehood | Amira Hass

On the highway that runs through the Jordan Valley, after about an hour taking pictures in almost total darkness in a field near the road, a policeman suddenly showed up. My explanation regarding what I was doing didn’t satisfy him even on my third attempt. In Bethlehem, the Christian waiters at the restaurant from which I photographed Jerusalem’s Har Homa neighborhood wished me a Happy New Year and a happy holiday in Arabic, despite the fact that, when they asked about my background, I had simply said Al-Quds, the Arabic name for Jerusalem.

Palestinian politician and diplomat Ahmed Qurei (who is also known as Abu Ala) insisted on giving me pralines “for the wife and children.” His assistant then called three times to make sure that I had found my way back to Israel from his office in Abu Dis on the outskirts of Jerusalem.

After many hours in the car, waiting for the right light — or lack of light — I learned to look at the landscape through Oslo glasses, which were hard to take off at the end of the shoot. Suddenly Oslo was peering out from every corner of my mind and behind every bend in the highway. These days, when the memory of late Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin is fading and Israeli students learn about him and his life and death as if it were historical trivia — along with the discovery of America or the Warsaw Ghetto uprising — I hope the project helps shine the spotlight on Oslo to some extent and to explain that, although the Oslo process may be dead, its results are clearly in evidence on the ground and still affect millions of Palestinians and Israelis day in and day out.