Since I've been gone

It’s been almost five days since I’ve arrived in Israel. And even as I crane my neck out my window and see the holy old city spread out before me, it’s hard for me to believe that I’m actually here. Today, I followed the call to prayer out of the student village and spent the day walking through the Arab area behind the Muslim quarter in the old city and yesterday I pushed through the pre-Shabbat crowds to buy nectarines in the open market shouk. Right now, I can hear fireworks to celebrate the end of Shabbat. Every time I walk to Hebrew class and survey the view overlooking Jerusalem, the golden dome on the Dome of the Rock winks from the distance. Yet, I still feel as though I’m looking through a screen, and the whole experience is just surreal.

Getting here was more difficult than I anticipated, and I think it was my just desserts for being lazy and a procrastinator during my last days in LA. I hadn’t prepared myself mentally for a new, different experience as well as I usually do because I was busy basking in my lazy summer days.

As I did my usual last minute packing Saturday morning and afternoon and said my last farewells to friends and family, my mind wasn’t really ready to leave the comforts of familiarity, and I was so angry with myself. I sat waiting for my red-eye flight and wondered why I wasn’t more excited to go to Jerusalem, and why I had worked so hard all the past year just to feel such an anti-climax.

It got better. I flew to Las Vegas for my two hour layover and tried to read amidst a background cacophony of casino arcade game type brrrings and consequently tried to entertain myself by trying to distinguish the freshly arrived from the exhausted, debauchery-spent veterans by their glinting eyes and waxen, jaded faces. Las Vegas is clearly not my favorite place even if I’m just in the airport.

I finally arrived in Newark early in the morning and skillfully maneuvered my way to the right gate like only seasoned travelers do. Imagine this: I was about to get onto an elevator, when I realized I was already on the right floor. So, as I tried to roll my huge bags in time to avoid being squished by the unforgiving doors, a rogue wheel somehow got stuck, and I watched, horrified from the bottom floor as one of my bags went up with the glass lift just in time to the overhead announcement not to leave any bags unattended. Was this karma? What had I done the past twenty four hours to deserve this?

I promise; it gets better. I found the group flight and introduced myself to several other Hebrew U students, as almost the whole flight was made up of students. I finally got my ticket and was then informed to immediately go to a different gate than indicated on my ticket so my carry-on bags could be inspected. Turns out, there were about 20 other students who were told to do the same. We all had neon pink bands on our luggage as opposed to the green tags, our own scarlet letter. We were all non-Jews. One of us was even interrogated as to what her favorite Jewish holiday was. She explained she was not Jewish. Then she was again asked what her favorite Jewish holiday was. Collectively, we delayed the plane about an hour, and as each lucky candidate was called to pick up his/her bags and get on the flight, the rest of us sheepishly smiled at each other and silently hoped that we just wouldn’t be the last one called.

I was the last one called. When my name was finally called, I was led into a room where I was asked to take off my sweater and slightly pull down my pants as my cuffs and seams were patted down and run over with a metal detector. I was in that room for 20 minutes with ten security personnel. They finally gave me my bags but told me that my computer was a security threat. I could not take it with me on the flight.

Here is an excerpt from my personal journal that I wrote soon after this incident:

“I was traumatized and upset and insulted and frustrated. I called my mom as soon as I walked on to the plane amid angry stares as I was the last one to board the hour delayed flight. I had bitten back my tears because I didn’t want to show the security guards that I was weak, and so with all the dignity I could muster, I walked out of the security room with my head exaggeratedly held high and dared anyone to approach me. But per usual, as soon as I heard my mom’s voice on the other end of the receiver, I started bawling, and the flood of tears just poured forward. I’m okay now. I’m excited again…I feel like despite this horrible start, I’ll be okay”.

Lessons learned:

1) From mom: this happens all the time to other people. Arab-Americans, Persian-Americans, Muslims in general. Random check is about as random as racial profiling. Now I have the experience to empathize. she told me to remember this moment and this awful feeling, and in the future, work to make sure no one has to suffer this injustice again.

2) It took a while for me to figure this out, but I think I understand why out of the hundreds of other students who had their laptops in their carry-on luggage, only mine was singled out as a bomb threat. Before you go on a plane, just as a safety precaution for your own sake and sanity, remember to turn off your wireless internet switch. I think this might be why my laptop was deemed suspect.

On the flight, a girl sitting next to me told me she was sorry that I had such an awful experience and that this experience wouldn't be indicative of the treatment I would receive in Israel. She told me that the worst was over, and I really felt better. I was on the plane, I was thousands of feet above the ground, and I deserved to be there as much as the next person.

It was already getting better.


next episode:
how can any country function without the organized systems and efficiency demands that are so prevalent in the United States? Has anyone else felt this way in their travel abroad experiences? Explain!