The Nuns and the Nomad

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I Have Arrived.

I had never previously thought that any journey could be so harrowing. It was like a Spielberg epic- laughing, crying, yelling... actually though, the laughing was more to keep from crying, and the crying didn't involve so many tears as angry rants... so I suppose it was just stress-induced ...angry stress.

Chapter 1.

SO. I start the long journey, as always, by sleeping through my alarm clock. Thankfully, back up fail safe alarm number three worked (thanks Jess). Follow 10-12 hour (who knows/cares at that point) trip to Jordan. I wrote down at the Amman (Jordan) airport: "I'm mostly disconcerted-- generally the flight is what throws me into a panic, but I'm blaze. BLAZE. (with a french accent on the e, not like i'm on fire)... Come ON, Stace. Look outside. It's all...desert-y and stuff!"

I think some sense of precognition was saving my energy for Tel Aviv. Because THAT was going to be fun.

I arrive. The jetlag is starting to hit me, to the point that I think I might throw up. I get to passport control and barely manage to summon up the few meagre tips I read online the night prior to leaving: "They won't be TOO thrilled about you working in the West Bank, so don't mention it outrightly."

"well," I think to myself, "I'll just keep it light then." But I wasn't going to lie.

As soon as I said Nablus, the control lady's ears perked. And then ensued the game of security 'hot potato'. After the lady in the booth, I was passed to another 'lone' member of airport security personnel, who handed me over to some of the burliest ladies I have ever seen: part of the Israeli police.

All asked approximately the same barrage of questions, which succeeded in 1) making me eternally puzzled:

"What is your father's name?" "Your grandfather's on your father's side?"
....I'm sorry, but I think "Waterman" is a pretty dead giveaway that I'm not Arab. With all due respect, of course.

and 2) making me realize just how ridiculous my summer plans sounded.

"Who do you know in Israel?"
...uhh... well, I know this guy that goes to the University in Haifa....

"What's his name and what is his contact information? What does he study"
...seriously, ma'am, all i've done is sent him a facebook message saying I was in the area.

"So... you don't know ANYONE in Israel"
...not personally

"And no one is meeting you at the airport?"
...nope

"And how are you getting to Nablus"
...well... they told me about the buses... but apparently those aren't running today because it's Shabbat/Saturday.

"So what are you going to do for tonight?"
...well, isn't that an interesting question!

They asked me why I would come all the way to a country I didn't know, to meet people I've never met, spending all this money that I really didn't have...

Yeah, I DO sound like a moron. It's not surprising that after 3 hours of waiting in their little holding room an alternatively being threatened to be sent back to Canada (they raided my gmail account, asked me more questions, and FINALLY told me that "well, we won't send you back home... NOT YET.") that they asked me quite patronizingly whether or not anyone had given me a 'present' to give to any Israelis or Palestinians. Seriously, I know I SOUND stupid, but I'm just....well... carefree? (can I justify that adjective?)

In any case, I have to throw in: I think a lot of people have derived some amusement from the fact that originally, while waiting in the holding room, I was sitting across from three nuns. I even saw the copies the Israeli police took of the passports; these nuns all decked out in their habits with giant crosses.... haha. Don't we make a dangerous and thug-like room, the nuns and the nomad.

SO. After, I perform my regular traveling magic tricks and found myself booked into a decent hotel in the center of Tel Aviv, chatting away with one of the managers over coffee. I remember telling him that my first impression of the country should be a wholeheartedly negative one- burly women akin to scary Swedish masseuses giving me sickenly sweet smiles as they try and coerce confessions out of me that, well, I just didn't have, and then getting massively ripped off by the cab ride into Tel Aviv.

But again, I was relatively blaze. I liked it here, thus far.

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