A boarder story

I hinted at this the other day with my post about going to Jordan. The issues at the boarder. I've taken some time and formulated my thoughts into an entry. In light of recent visits to the middle east by assorted US politicians and comments about the region by candidates for president, I thought I would chime in with my 4 cents. You can form your own opinions...

We got into Israel at about 7:30 am after 8 hours of traveling. The boarder station itself is situated right on the coast, with a big cliff on the other side, only one road runs between the water and the mountain as that is all there is room for. As you approach the actual boarder control building, you have to show your passport to a number of people. I went first, acting as the liaison between my group and mother Israel. I handed my passport—which has become shaped like my left buttcheek because of all the traveling i do with it in my back left pocket— to a youthful israeli in casual clothing, shorts, polo, styled hair and rifle. He studied it pretty closely and radioed to the other guard standing no more than 11 feet behind him. I don't know what he said, but proceeded to ask me where I was coming from and what the purpose of my trip was. I answered, Cairo, and Jordan, respectively. He radioed that to his partner too. He asked me how many were in my party, to which i said 8, and then he asked how i knew them all and i explained we were students. He gave me the okay, and I passed round one of boarder patrol. Still outside the building itself, Lindsay and I were the first two into the Israel "compound" as I'll call it, with Arastoo next in line. Almost immediately upon sight of Arastoo's bushy eyebrows and ball-point pen black hair, guard number one radioed in hebrew for back up. Out of buildings i didn't even see, more early 20 guards approached our party with stern faces.
He asked Arastoo to step to the side, and to leave his bags right over there. He did the same for Hadi (Stoo's brother) and let the other 4 in our party through. As we stood there, waiting for the Taslim brothers, a soldier approached me and asked me how long I'd known the two over there. I answered 8 months, which was a total lie, but it came to me and struck me as the truth at the time. He asked what our purpose was and if anyone had given me, or anyone in my party weapons. I said no, and we sat down and waited.
A female guard with a recently shaved head asked Arastoo to join her about 20 feet away from where we were sitting. She began asking him questions while we sat in silence. Another guard came over and asked Ross to join him. He obliged and an interrogation began.
I realized why ross had been picked out. he was traveling with two iranians and a beard. Can you say terror threat? I can. I was next.

At that same moment, I realized that I needed a bathroom. I have titled these intestinal troubles phantoms for their ability to appear out of nowhere. I asked one of the many guards if there was a bathroom around and he pointed me inside. I dropped my bags and hustled inside as to avoid soiling my only clean pants so early in the trip. I passed through security and was shown to the handicap bathroom as the cleaning lady was occupying the mens' room. After I finished, I walked out to find a guard waiting for me. I guess I too was a threat, and warranted a security detail. I returned with my guard to the outside interrogations, and sat on the bench.


Ross was just finishing up and Arastoo had already been replaced by Hadi. Hadi finished while we waited and then the fashionably shaved guard called me over, flanked on both sides by two casually dressed musclemen. She began her interview with the basics, why Cairo? why israel? why jordan? Do i study arabic? why? Do I know any Egyptians? who? Then it got silly.
"Why do you cut your beard that way?" she asked. I smiled. I cut my beard the way I do because if i let it grow fully, it grows all splotchy and I look like the unibomber. I didn't say that, whew. I explained that my beard really doesn't grow between my moustache and my cheeks and i just trim the few hairs that do grow there to avoid making it look like i've tried to connect the two. and the area between my chin and lower lip, well hair doesn't grow there period. as for my cheeks, i trimmed it to shape my face because well, if i don't the few hairs that do grow there look bad. She pointed out that she can see the hairs on my cheek growing and they did not look silly. I thanked her but assured her that when they reached full length, they would not match the beard. I told her i shaved my neck because when i am on long bus rides, it itches as I try to sleep. She bought it.
She then asked me what i knew about Israel, and Purim, and if i knew anyone in the country. I knew too much about Purim for her liking, and she quizzed me more on that. She asked me what was on my necklace and if anyone had given me a bomb, or any explosives. After this she seemed satisfied and sent me back to wait.
Another few minutes went by and she gave us the okay to enter into the building itself. I again went first through security. They had placed these little yellow and black stickers on the back of our passports which i assumed meant be extra careful with these ones. No one really had any issues at baggage control because none of were carrying bombs, so we advanced painlessly to the stamp area of the boarder.
The 6 non iranians went first ( a dumb order in retrospect) I went first, taking the israel stamp on the passport opposed to the sheet of paper i had it on last time, and asked the guard what the sticker was for. she smiled and said she didn't know what i was talking about, and i smiled and said okay. I made it through, the other 5 made it through. Arastoo made it too, even asked for the stamp on another sheet. THen Hadi went. And hadi wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do to ensure getting it on another sheet. I think he said he just didnt want a stamp, period, which is a big nono. They told him they'd have to ask someone about it and took his passport, while they were at it, they tookStoo's too.
So began our long wait.
There were a lot of things that went on during this wait that probably should have been avoided. Our group acted like a bunch of immature naive americans and the guards acted like 20-year old girls on a power trip. After about an hour and a half, we began asking what the hold up was, and if there was anyone we could talk to about the situation and the guards responded very unhelpfully with "I can't tell you that's" and "no, it's out of our hands nows." tensioned began to boil as though they just kept adding salt to a pot of water on a stove with the burner on low. The guards ate lunch, while we sat sprawled out on the floor of the boarder crossing, and every so often, we'd ask what was happening with the passports. Anytime one of us asked a question whose passport was not in the hands of Israel boarder guards, they'd tell us we didn't have any problems and we could just leave if we didn't want to wait. A good point on their part.
Eventually a pregnant lady in charge of the whole operation stormed out of the dining office and told us it'd be about 15 minutes. She continued outside in an absolute hissy fit manner. She walked past us about 45 minutes later and I asked her if there had been a change in the time, as 15 minutes had long since passed. she told me it was out of her hands and that she'd already answered all of our questions. This was said in a very sassy tone and we responded that no, in fact she had been very unhelpful and had not answered any of our questions and tensions simmered just below boiling. She returned to the office, we remained on the floor. I struck up conversation with some old employee and explained to him that no, we didn't speak hebrew, which he was offended by and I asked if i learned it would my friends be let in sooner. He said "yes, that's the reason we are holding you, because you don't speak hebrew." He was joking, as was I, but this upset members of my party. Then the cleaning lady came. Remember her from the bathroom? Well, she had cleaned the entire building and now it was time to clean the office that the ladies had been sitting in, hiding from us with the passports. They congregated right outside the door, and we remained sprawled on the floor only a few feet away.
After an awkward silence, one of the less composed members of our group shouted, "So how's it going over there?" Preggers took offense to the tone and shot back "Are you talking to me? because I have already answered all of your questions and have nothing to say to you right now." Stoo chimed in and began a series of questions that just probably weren't smart all things considered. He explained that he, like me, was an american citizen and wanted to know why he had been stopped and checked whereas the other 6 of us got through scott free. She didn't have to answer that, and didn't. He continued. Somethings were said about questions he was asked, like his grandfather's phone number in Iran to which Stoo responded, "Do you really think he wants to hear from you this early on Thursday morning?" Israeli response: "Do you really think I want to call someone like him so early on a Thursday morning?" More verbal volleys were exchanged as Stoo hinted at the fact that his tax dollars may or may not have been paying for this woman's salary (probably not true, definitely not smart) and the other 4 guards around the pregnant woman began cackling and mocking us in Hebrew. Eventually they returned to the office and we waited for another half hour. Then one of the girls came out and asked if Hadi wanted a stamp in his passport, to which Stoo emphatically responded,"N o,no no no, absolutely not!" and Kellie (not exactly with a lot of social savvy,) said "Are you fucking serious?"
Deadpanning Kellie, the guard turned around, laughed and said something in Hebrew which i assume was, "yes, I am fucking serious." Stoo and Hadi finally got the passports, and 3 hours and 40 some minutes had passed since we'd gotten to the boarder. I ushered everyone out of the building and on my way out, apologized to the guards for our behavior and thanked them for their help. It wasn't much, but some members of the party found my actions to be inconsiderate towards the suffering Arastoo and Hadi had endured.
I disagreed and explained that I apologized not to say "Hey, sorry about those Iranians,They're crazy," but to say "We could have handled that better, and so could have you. Have a nice day. Tthank you."
That's kind of how the story ends. but here are a few more thoughts.
Was Israel really that wrong in stopping someone with citizenship from a country that routinely calls for Israel's destruction? Furthermore, Arastoo hates Israel. He'd never blow them up, but he really dislikes them and didn't want to go through the country anyway because he didnt want to support their building of settlements with his 15 dollars. So maybe Israel was doing itself a favor by checking on a guy who does indeed hate them-even though they did n't know that for sure. Racial profiling is usually wrong, but in this case, was it? I mean, come on. Arastoo despises the country and thinks they are scum. Israel has good authority to be on the defensive from people like that, even if it means making them wait, or perhaps especially if it means making them wait. Some of the other people in the group made it seem like this was the most egregious offense in the world of Stoo's rights , making him wait simply because he is Iranian! The audacity! I didn't feel that way. If i went to Syria, for example, as an American, I'd probably have to wait. If Stoo went to Syria, he'd probably get in faster than I got into Israel. So is the nature of the world.As long as there are nations in the world, and more specifically nations that dislike one another, there are going to be measures to ensure that members of those nations, or supporters of those nations aren't roaming freely around the country.

Lastly, the best analogy that I can come up with for the boarder guards is this. When I was a lifeguard, sitting atop the slide, in charge of when someone could go down, there were days, sometimes hours, that I was bored. The best way to cure that boredom is to use the power you have for your enjoyment. I was supposed to let people, normally brattly little kids go down the slide every 8 seconds. Sometimes i'd double it to 16, to make them sweat. If they asked me if they could go before that, I'd push it back even further. I felt no sympathy for them as they sat atop the slide begging to go down. Most of the time it was out of contempt.
So these girls in charge of a national waterslide probably felt the same. They let some of us down, and then they decided to hold off on stoo and co. Fine. Maybe it would have been 20 minutes and they would have tired of us, but tensions on our end were high and words started coming out. They had no reason to let us go any sooner than we had to. What was it to them if we sat there? Nothing. They had us in their complete and total control and we played right into their power trip.
Was what they did wrong? I don't know. It was frustrating because it set us behind, but hardly ill-justified. I think people at the Israel boarder are on higher defense than people at most boarders. They are surrounded by enemies. Maybe it's in their best interest to hold up some Iranians and their friends. You can never be too cautious these days.

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