Greetings; and apologies for the delay, but Jub was sending out cover letters this past week. Oh, is that you, Reality? From Jordan, we crossed over the King Hussein Bridge into Israel. In the preceding two months, we'd interacted with basically zero working women, since almost all the waiters, store and hotel clerks in India, Egypt, and Jordan were male. This made for an interesting contrast when our bus rolled up to the border, and two heavily armed 20-year old women from the Israeli army came on board to inspect our passports--in fact, the entire border-crossing was conducted by women who probably couldn't buy a beer in the States. But despite some horror stories we'd heard, the process (passport check, bag check, metal detector, explosives detector, lots and lots of questions about what we'd be doing
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