They had us empty our pockets in the middle of the half open gazebo type station. The mob began to form around us as we were searched and questioned. Someone from the mob yelled “Palestinian son of a Dog” at me (a big insult in Arabic). One guy told them to let us go if I was from “48,” an Israeli Arab, he should let us go. The half uniformed cop, said that he we going to have the army deal with us. I said yes, please do.” This was a relief because the army is the most professional and even handed of the mobs. As he escorted us through the streets a small group of very scary looking armed busy bodies followed us on a crowed street of thugs. We walked about two blocks before we finally spotted a lone soldier standing in front of a demolished car. Half uniformed guy handed him our passports and talked him about the “bunga” and about the fact that I was Palestinian. I asked the soldier to take us away. The mob around us had grown to about 150-200 most with sticks, some with knifes and machetes. One toothless guy with a machete grabbed Pauline’s arm and said come with me, after blowing her a kiss. This was the worst moment of my life. I thought that they were going to try to separate us.