If we were standing at a checkpoint and a truck with Palestinian merchandise would arrive, with ice cream or small snacks, it was clear to us – and clear to them, too – that if they would give us a popsicle from the refrigerated truck, the security check would be much quicker. And if we don't get popsicles, he could find himself being inspected for 15 minutes. It starts when you run out of cigarettes, and you ask for a cigarette. It was enough that I was in uniform with a weapon and that he was a poor Palestinian in a car. He could say no, but for some reason they always took out two or three [cigarettes]. At some point it became standard. It begins with a cigarette, and continues to the popsicle truck. "Soldiers are thrown out in the sun, won't you give them popsicles?" I remember a truck that passed through there with chicks, and somebody took one. Just becuase. There was this truck that drove through with the kind of toys that you throw in the trash. Someone pulled out a plastic toy worth five shekels, some toy car. In some sense it was even more jarring than the cigarette or popsicle that you ate on the spot.
And is there an officer there? Yes, there's someone who’s the commander responsible, an officer or a sergeant. This erosive experience, the situation at the checkpoint, got us to a state in which we took stuff from the guys who passed through there – though just a few shekels, but these guys go through five or six checkpoints like these every day.