Adventures in Getting Here!

So I certainly was not overly concerned about getting to Palestine. In fact, I was a lot more anxious about going to Germany last summer than Palestine this summer. Perhaps it is because I am not visiting my family (and therefore need not make a fantastic impression) or maybe because it is not the first time I am going alone to an unknown territory in which I do not speak the language. Whatever the reason, I was primarily excited about being on the plane and unable to turn back.

My flight from RDU to Philly was relatively uneventful and primarily boring with me reading trashy magazines and sleeping. However my flight to Barcelona from Philly was extremely interesting as I was seated next to a friendly girl who was sligthly older than I. She told me she was studying in Barcelona and asked why I was going there so I told her I was transfering in Barcelona to a flight to Tel Aviv. When she asked me about it, I told her I would be teaching English in Palestine. She asked me where and imagine my surprise (and fortune) when I discovered that although she has lived most of her life in America, she was born in an area surrounding Nablus, the city in which I am working. We had a wonderful conversation and even chatted coming off of the plane. I was worried about getting my ticket and and finding the correct terminal so she offered to help because she did not have to be anywhere at a specific time. Grateful, I asked if I could put my two purses on her baggage cart just so that I would not have to carry them because they were so heavy. She was holding on to them when I went to check in at the baggage check-in. Immediately they were suspicious of me because I did not have a ticket, but a printout of the order. I explained that I was changing airlines and therefore, RDU would not submit to me an actual ticket, but I was required to pick one up when I reached Barcelona. Immediately they asked me if I was Jewish (which if you know me, was extremely exciting). I told them that unfortunately no, I was Catholic. They asked me several times how certain I was of this and I told them that as far as I know and have ever been told, my family has only ever been Catholic, both on the side of my mother and my father. This line of questioning continued until they began asking me about why I was there. Since on weekends I will be going with Maggie to Jerusalem where she works with refugees from Sudan teaching them English, I told them that is what I would be doing for the next two months in addition to visiting holy Christian sites. They began grilling me about who would pick me up, why I would by myself, where I would sleep etc. and did so repeatedly until I would make a mistake. I forgot a couple of the details such as which university I was working with, but everyone has momentary lapses of memory and therefore, they had no grounds to prevent my boarding...until they asked to see my carry-on luggage.

So in retrospect, leaving my luggage with a stranger has not been my shiniest moment. However, the shiznit really hit the fan when the El Al security saw an Arab person in possession of my bags. They asked me if she was a friend and I explained that to an extent, yes she was, but only one that I just met on my flight from Philly. They asked if we discussed our backgrounds to which I responded that if that was an awkward attempt at asking if she is Palestinian, then yes, she is. I think the woman questioning me was torn between hilarity at my bluntness and disbelief at my stupidity. They asked if I would keep in contact and I responded by telling them that I had every intention of adding her as a friend on facebook. That is when I had my passport confiscated and I was taken into a back room.

I was asked to remove all metal and layers (short of being indecent) and hand over my belongings. As they went through my stuff, I was told to sit in a corner and have the curtain closed around me. Next thing I know, I am being asked to come with them so I can have my passport checked by Barcelona airport security and have my luggage which was supposed to automatically be re-routed to Tel Aviv, taken from the flight and searched. Everything was went through and repacked. Next I had to surf through my computer to disprove that it was in fact a bomb and remove the battery as I was informed all computers were to be taken from passengers and sent ahead in a seperate container. Imagine my surprise when passenger upon passenger was contently typing away on their laptops as I watched "Paul Blart: Mall Cop." The quession sessions continued for just under two hours as my background check came back negative for terrorist activity. What was most upsetting to me was the speed at which the guards, who personally took me to the terminal, watched me board the plane, and consistantly kept watch over me throughout the flight, walked which as I currently have an ankle the size of a grapefruit meant that I attempted (and failed) to keep up with his quick strides. This seems inconsequential, but when you are tired and pissed, a swollen, throbbing ankle is the last thing you need.

Coming into Tel Aviv, I explained why I was visiting Israel and was given a three-month visa in under 10 minutes. My biggest concern was calling Maggie which involved my calling international collect and paying with my credit card because I am obviously lacking in common sense ie: asking to borrow a phone from someone. Then came the taxi driver who flipped his nuts when he could not find me because he showed up at the wrong location. On the other hand, we had a lovely chat and boy was he awesome. Granted it was difficult to understand his broken English, but he gave me his perspective on the situation (as that is what everyone here calls it), which was an interesting take considering he is Christian Israeli, but of Arab descent. His sympathies seem to be with the Palestinians because he has seen the consequences of the conflict, but having been born in Tel Aviv and lived there most of his life, he has great love for the land (if not the existing government). He told me he once lived in New York and could not understand the appeal because everything you could want is in Tel Aviv (as many have compared it to a little America or my favorite, a Middle Eastern Venice Beach), but with a greater community orientation which lead to an interesting debate about the quality of New York (which I think farts daisies). I reached the checkpoint, crossed through encountering no soldiers, only a large array of taxi drivers, and was taken by the husband of the principal of the school I work at, to the school to see play practice.