Banksy in Bethlehem
On my recent trip to Israel one of my ‘must visits’ was Bethlehem, one of the most famous towns in the world, where Christianity started, and although I’m not religious, one felt compelled to take a look. Looking at the map, it seems now to be little more than a suburb of Jerusalem, but going there was like a trip to another country.
Although only a few miles away, it is in another country, the Palestinian Territory, part of the occupied West Bank and the other side of the West Bank barrier, the wall that separates the two communities.
Getting to Bethlehem is quite easy, you get on a bus in the centre of Jerusalem and although you see the wall on the way, it’s never clear where you cross over, but fifteen minutes later you are dropped in a street in Bethlehem. It’s about a twenty minute walk up to Manger Square, which is used as a municipal car park. Everything was different, the language, the script, the dress, the people, I was in the Arab World.
Although only a few miles away, it is in another country, the Palestinian Territory, part of the occupied West Bank and the other side of the West Bank barrier, the wall that separates the two communities.
Getting to Bethlehem is quite easy, you get on a bus in the centre of Jerusalem and although you see the wall on the way, it’s never clear where you cross over, but fifteen minutes later you are dropped in a street in Bethlehem. It’s about a twenty minute walk up to Manger Square, which is used as a municipal car park. Everything was different, the language, the script, the dress, the people, I was in the Arab World.
I stopped and had coffee at ‘Starbucks’, which was a surprise as there are no branches in the region. The cheerful brothers who ran it had worked hard at the concept though. While drinking my coffee, the older brother, Sa’id, ‘sold’ me the idea of going on a Banksy tour after I’d been to the Church of the Nativity.
I’d heard that Banksy, the reclusive British graffiti artist had been active in the area and I liked his quirky humour, and I liked Sa’id’s infectious enthusiasm, so I said yes. After my church visit we waited around, chatting to more of the extended family until Sa’id turned up in a small Toyota car.
Then we were off, bombing through the streets of Bethlehem, which like most of the area, is quite hilly. Suddenly for no apparent reason we swerved to a halt outside a shop.
‘What’s going on?’
Sa’id pointed at the wall ahead, ‘That is an original Banksy’.
We stopped, took a picture then drove on a short distance before pulling in again by another wall, which had another Banksy original on it.
Sa'id our guide, with the flower thrower.
At our third stop we parked outside a petrol station, and walked around to the side of the car wash, which had a copy of the famous ‘flower thrower’ on it.
First painted eleven years ago it’s the oldest of his art works in the area.
We then drove onto the wall itself, and here was Banksy’s biggest contribution to the area, a hotel. Called the ‘Walled Off’ Hotel (gettit? Think of a salad) which is next to the wall.
Obviously he put it here to make a statement and it is apparently filled with his artwork on a civil confrontation theme, as well as a gallery for new local artists.
Prices range from $1000 a night for the Presidential Suite, to $60 for a bed in the Budget Bunker.
The doorman at the 'Walled Off' Hotel.
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The Wall next to the 'Walled Off' Hotel.
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As part of the hotel there is a shop selling art and a graffiti shop where you can rent some spray cans and stencils and make your own mark on the wall.
As the lower parts of the wall are pretty well covered, the only Banksy on display is very high up.
The Israelis built the wall to ‘protect’ themselves from the Palestinians terrorists but it just empahasises the second class situation the Palestinians find themselves in.
I told Sa’id that I’d stood and photographed another wall thirty two years ago, that people thought would never come down, but it did.
We then drove onto the checkpoint to re enter Israel. There is a gate in the wall with three heavily armed Israeli soldiers guarding it, one of them a woman.
To cross over you have to go through a series of caged in walkways to a reception area, where you have to put your bag and pocket contents through an X ray machine. Then you move through to ‘immigration’, the Palestinians have to show ID and have their figure prints scanned; they took my word that I was British and didn’t even want to see my passport, profiling in action.
There are no people, you are watched and questioned by faces behind darkened bullet proof glass. You enter Israel territory again, more soldiers, another country.
To cross over you have to go through a series of caged in walkways to a reception area, where you have to put your bag and pocket contents through an X ray machine. Then you move through to ‘immigration’, the Palestinians have to show ID and have their figure prints scanned; they took my word that I was British and didn’t even want to see my passport, profiling in action.
There are no people, you are watched and questioned by faces behind darkened bullet proof glass. You enter Israel territory again, more soldiers, another country.
