Every point settling into place is a checkpoint, gate, or roadblock — 374 of them, mapped from the obstacle registry and discovered live in road chatter.
Since June 9 a collector has listened to public Telegram road channels around the clock, turning each message into a status for one of these points — — reports so far.
The collector reads six road channels. A line like «عورتا سالك» is matched to a checkpoint, and its verb to one of six states the parser understands.
Those six words are the entire vocabulary of this dataset — every number that follows is built from them. — of everything ever said has been سالك — open.
Scroll through an average day and the whole network breathes. It sleeps after midnight — barely 20 reports an hour — then wakes abruptly with the roads at 05:00.
The morning crossing rush crests at 10:00 (—/hr), eases through the afternoon, then surges again at 21:00 as the evening's closures ripple through the channels.
Stack every day of collection into a single week. The grid glows brightest on Saturday and Sunday — the start of the local work week — and dims on Tuesday.
Read down any column and the same heartbeat repeats: dawn wake, morning crest, evening surge. Every single day, without exception.
Every report ever parsed, day by day, colored by what it said. The feed itself grew — from — reports a day in its first week to — now.
Watch the red band: closures are not background noise. On —, — of everything said about the roads was مغلق — closed.
The same channels carry more than traffic. A parallel pipeline has logged — alerts since June — raids, injuries, settler attacks, demolitions — each typed, geolocated where possible, and scored for confidence.
Road closures and raids move together: the busiest alert days are the same days the red band swells in the river above.
Back to the map — but now each point is colored by how often its reports say anything but open, and sized by how much it is talked about at all.
The chatter concentrates around Nablus; further south sit gates that barely know another word. Zoom by zoom: the most-watched crossing, the most-closed gate, then every governorate ranked.
You are now scrubbing real time. Every flash is a checkpoint changing state as the crowd reported it — — reports across these three days.
Watch the map quiet down at night and re-ignite each dawn; watch red spread through a governorate and recede. This is what the collector sees, hour by hour.
As of —, the last thing said about each point puts — open and — closed.
But only — of them have been spoken about in the last six hours. The rest are drawn faintly here: that is the network's memory, not its present. The collector is still listening.
Crowd reports from public Telegram road channels are parsed continuously by the wb-alerts collector, matched against a canonical checkpoint registry, and written to checkpoints.db and alerts.db. The historical scenes — the river, the weekly rhythm, the 72-hour replay — are computed from those databases at build time and embedded in this file, so the page renders instantly and works offline. The live layer is different: on load, and every minute after, the page asks the collector's public API what the roads are doing right now, and updates the map, the status counts and the table in place. If that call fails the badge reads snapshot and you are seeing the baked figures — nothing breaks.
Keyboard: ← → move between chapters, Home / End jump to either end, T switches theme.
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