Traffic is light at the sprawling Israeli checkpoint between Jerusalem and the West Bank, writes Michael Jansen in Ramallah.
The line of cars crossing to Kalandia and Ramallah is short and there are dozens rather than hundreds of pedestrians making the journey on foot. It is the third Friday in the Muslim fasting month of Ramadan and unseasonably warm.
The streets are empty, shops are closed. Palestinians are in their homes, sleeping or huddled before TV sets waiting for news of Yasser Arafat.
"Is he alive or dead?" demands the taxi driver as we hurtle towards the muqata, the battered compound in Ramallah where Mr Arafat was confined for nearly three years by Israel.
"They say he is brain dead, on life support," the driver says, waiting for me to confirm. Palestinians think foreign journalists are better informed than they. But we are just as confused about Mr Arafat's situation.
"He is our father, the leader of our national struggle," the driver says. "We have no leader to match him, no one as wise, no one to negotiate, no one to take over."
The muqata stands on a rise at the northern edge of Ramallah, dominated by a hilltop Israeli army base, from which it was shelled during the re-invasion of the West Bank in 2002. Cars are parked bumper to bumper on both sides of the narrow road leading to the main gate. The courtyard is deserted. There is no Palestinian vigil.
Instead TV teams and photographers jam together opposite the entrance, the eyes of their cameras trained on Palestinian policemen keeping the press at bay and on departing cars in case a recognisable politician might be inside.
The Palestinian leadership is inside, meeting continuously.
Dr Saeb Erekat, the Palestinian chief negotiator, is mobbed when his car comes through the gate. "Saeb, Saeb," beg cameramen drumming on his window. He is whisked away without a word, his face set in a grim mask. The red, white, green and black Palestinian flag flying at the top of its pole proclaims that Arafat still lives.
The streets of the Old City of Jerusalem remain empty until shortly before the fast ends. Suddenly the lanes and alleyways are crammed with humanity, rushing to ifars, Ramadan breakfasts. Over the table, Palestinians exchange the latest rumours about Mr Arafat's health. Mosques broadcast prayers for the "Old Man".
Few Israelis circulate in west Jerusalem. Restaurants and cafés are empty. Israelis also wait at home for bulletins on Mr Arafat.