In one random hitchhiker, the story of the Palestinians
On a journey from Ramallah to the Hashmonaim checkpoint, one man reveals the grim reality that is routine for most.
It’s still dark on Al-Rukab Street in Ramallah. Ju’ebeh’s small book and newspaper shop is the only place open, and the fresh newspapers await distribution to the other sales points in the city. I stop the car. The man who raised his arm looking to hitch a ride hurries over, looks at me through the window with some surprise, but opens the door and gets in. He doesn’t have to say it...
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