Transit
Transit is a documentary photography project that explores everyday life in the West Bank through the stories of people who continue to drive vintage Mercedes models from the 1960s to the 1980s. Durable, repairable, and often inherited, these cars mirror the persistence of their owners — individuals who adapt, reroute, and keep moving despite an increasingly fragmented territory.
The project uses the car as a narrative lens rather than a subject in itself. Inside and around these vehicles, daily routines unfold: commuting to work, visiting family, delivering goods, or simply waiting. The cabin becomes an intimate space where smartphones, prayer beads, navigation apps, and personal objects coexist — tools for navigating uncertainty when official maps no longer reflect reality.
Recent data from UN OCHA shows a sharp rise in fixed checkpoints, gates, and road barriers across the West Bank, intensifying delays and reshaping mobility. Drivers rely on messaging apps and informal networks to anticipate closures and clashes, constantly recalculating routes that may change within hours. What emerges is a geography of delay, where time is stretched, compressed, or lost entirely.
Against this backdrop, the old Mercedes carries the memory of freer movement. Some owners restore these cars as acts of preservation; others keep them running out of necessity. Scarred bodies, worn interiors, and high mileage tell stories of repetition, resilience, and adaptation — vehicles repaired again and again, much like the lives they support.
Through portraits, details, and landscapes, Transit reflects on how mobility shapes identity, memory, and belonging. The project traces journeys taken, delayed, or abandoned, revealing how time itself travels through a controlled landscape. Each car moves slowly forward, carrying not just passengers, but the weight of routes that persist despite everything.
In the West Bank, distance is rarely measured in kilometers. It is measured in waiting.
Checkpoints, roadblocks, parallel road systems and sudden closures turn short journeys into hours. Movement — once ordinary — has become unpredictable, negotiated day by day. Within this landscape, an aging Mercedes-Benz is more than a vehicle: it is a tool for endurance, a container of memory, and a witness to lives lived in suspension.