Simon Hewitt Jones - The Violin Blog

Apr

10

In The Middle Of The Night

Filed Under Anecdotes, Travelblog | 

palestinian bankAfter a Ramallah concert, a couple of us decided to stay late in the city with some ex-pats who were living there. We ended up at one of their houses, opposite the glamourous new Bank of Palestine building (replete with bulletholed windows…)

It got to 3am and it became obvious to me, and T (from the Choir of London), that it was time to go home to Jerusalem. As we walked to the car, the crack of machine gun fire suddenly echoed out from a nearby suburb.

“Hmm. Something going on.” Our pace quickened.

By the time we reached the car, our mission had changed from “drive home” to “get the hell out of here”.

Careening through the dead Ramallah back streets, we weaved our way towards the safest checkpoint, T doing his best to go in the opposite direction to the sound of the raid. Not for long. We turned a corner, and came right up against a big armoured jeep in the middle of the road, flashing a blinding searchlight in our direction. U-turn… Now!

After a couple such encounters, we eventually got out of the centre to the first checkpoint, passing various loitering groups of Palestinian men on the way (”They’re waiting for the Israelis to return. With stones.”).

**

I should mention at this point, that I am with ‘a safe pair of hands’. T is the Choir of London’s ‘man on the ground’; a sharp, quick-witted Hebrew- and Arabic-speaker with a mysterious job in a mysterious institute in Jerusalem. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Knowing exactly what he’s doing, however, doesn’t necessarily extend to making sure there’s enough petrol in the tank.

“What sound does a car running out of petrol make?”

“Something like this?”

There’s never a good place to run out of petrol, but between checkpoints on a security road in no man’s land with no breakdown lane definitely isn’t one of the best. Like an angel from above, a taxi rolls up and asks if we need any help.

“You stay with the car.”

T jumps into the taxi, and vanishes. Within a minute, an army jeep rolls up, brandishing machine guns, and asking for an explanation.

“English… Run out of petrol…”

They smile knowingly, and move on.

After about 20 minutes, T and the taxi return, sadly empty-handed. But in the meantime, he’s phoned the Choir of London’s multi-purpose M, who - at 3 in the morning - is somewhat the worse for wear, but nonetheless comes to help in a second car. He’s brought with him Flirty Soprano to charm any soldiers we might run into; they tell us that Esteemed Musical Director had wanted to come as well, but two drunkards and a hire car does not a crack rescue team make.

T and I make off in M’s car, leaving them by the roadside. We manage, after a considerable time, to locate a petrol station, and return with two drinks bottles full of petrol. By this time, Flirty Soprano seems to be collecting and befriending tankfuls of Israeli soldiers who have stopped to say hello, and it’s all we can do to stop them from spraying their cigarette ash in the direction of the petrol which T has managed to spill almost entirely outside of the fuel tank. Thankfully there’s a second bottle, and they manage to not set alight to that one either.

I hear the heavenly sound of a car ignition. We’re on our way again.

From April 1st-15th, I’m blogging and videocasting directly from the Choir of London’s Palestine Mozart Festival in Israel and the Occupied Territories. If you wish to find out more, or to support the Foundation’s work, please click here to read more.

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