Arrived at Ben Gurion Airport after a MARATHON flight from Jakarta – Singapore – London – Tel Aviv. Met Jo in London and we got the flight together but was no point in sleeping as we were arriving at 5am, which was actually 430am.
Arrived and was warned that we would be questioned to death, given we were planning on going into Palestine – or West bank and Gaza. Plus the fact I had Afghan, Somali, Malian, Jordanian, Egyptian, Sudanese and a number of Indonesian visas to mention but a few, in my passport. As expected, Jo was approved and my passport was taken away and I was asked to go to the questioning room. As we sat there prepared for the grilling, and as Jo was giving me a pep-talk, the Israeli authorities came in and called my name. With no questioning, I was given a gate pass to leave and enter Israel. Woo-hoo! I have always wanted to come here.
Waited for our driver, and when he finally arrived (me high on life and awake), we got in the car and headed for Jerusalem where we were staying. On arrival, at 6am, I realized how small this much fought over piece of the world was. We drove into a Cathedral (St Georges), which looked like it pre-dated Christ. It was stunning. And this was where we were staying. Check-in, bit of work, sleep for an hour then we were off out to explore the old town of Jerusalem…….
Walked to the Damascus gate, a hive of activity, and entered what I was told was the Christian or Jewish quarter, but it was Arab all the way, which I loved! The market was amazing. I was in my element. Jo and I meandered through the winding streets, meeting the most interesting people and stopping off at all the stalls and shops. The ambience and people were amazing. Lunch in an ancient building, chatted to a carpet and jewellery salesman who was really interesting, making a living as an Arab Israeli, and studying Political Science. He’d been to my country. One of the lucky ones I guess who can actually leave. L Also spent time with an Armenian picture and print salesman who I winded up going back and buying 2 posters from: Visit Palestine!!! Controversy, I await!
After an age of relaxed and chilled wandering, we reached the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. WOW!!!! The “Mecca” of Christianity and a pilgrim’s dream! I realized for the first time why everyone was fighting over this Holy Land. Jerusalem is a crazy mix of people, and races and religions. Add the religious pilgrims / tourists in there and it’s a vibrant melting pot. The church itself contains (remarkably, all in one place!!!! :-/) The hill where Christ was crucified, the stone that he was laid and washed on and the tomb he was buried in. The church / chapel where al this is contained is split (randomly, and after much fighting and squabbling) between the Coptics, Orthodox and Armenians. The different parts of the chapel that they have been allocated are not co-ordinated, and are so different in style and gregariousness….. it’s alarming. I don’t think they even co-ordinate their rituals and services, with men / priests running around, banging things, lighting things, chanting things, and smoking out the place. Aside from all the pomp and circumstance, it was a pretty amazing and impressive place. Especially when you consider the history! My religious teachings and knowledge of the bible came flooding back. I started to want to read more….. about the life of Jesus! It really started to hit home for the first time in my life, regardless of what anyone’s point of view on Christianity is, that this was a man that actually existed. He was born in Bethlehem, lived as a simple man who moved masses of people to believe there was a better life for them, he died on the cross. He also started the world’s largest religion, and shaped many conscious, cultures, countries, and conflicts! Everyone should go, just to se what a “show” it has become, and if you get over that… you might even get a bit closer to relating to what is actually told in the New Testament.
On for a walk around the market, visited the wailing wall (considered now to be a wall on the outer complex of Herod’s temple, I think) on the Jewish Sabbath (Sat) and watched them all pray, stopped for Shisha and beer at Damascus gate, after buying some tacky religious souvenirs of course, and it was back to the St George’s Cathedral and then Legacy hotel with our Country Director, for our drinks and chat about how horrific the state of the Palestinian cause is! It was the beginning of our first on-the ground glimpse of the way the Israeli forces discriminate openly against innocent people. In fact earlier that day, a European guy with his 2 friends from Germany (with EU ID) was told he wasn’t getting in to the sites, simply because he had an Arab name. Adding insult to injury, we offered our passports, and they looked at us and just waved us on, saying “no need”, in front of this poor guy!
Day 2 in Jerusalem – Breakfast at hotel, security briefing from Wael at 10am, and meeting with Iskandar at Legacy for an hour and half. After some lunch where we looked out over the stunning Holy City, we got our taxi to Ramallah in the West Bank. After passing the checkpoint and “the wall” I decided to take out my passport and realized that I hadn’t had my passport stamped at immigration when I landed in Tel Aviv. SH*T!!! I was in Israel (or now West Bank) without a legitimate Israeli visa….. I was crapping myself over being stopped on the way back into Israel / Jerusalem from Palestinian Territories and deported! Luckily I wasn’t. After visiting the office, we were left in a Palestinian café on the street alone, waiting for the taxi for over an hour. The idea of it made me nervous as hell, but that soon passed. I was liking Ramallah! I couldn’t believe how developed it was, how trendy and beautiful the people were, and how cool the coffee shops were. I hear it’s not the same in other parts of the West Bank, but Ramallah was great!
The evening consisted of dinner in the American Colony Hotel. It has a lovely garden, nice drinks, and is the place where all the expats hang out, especially INGO workers and journalists.
Day 3 – Entered into the West Bank – Ramallah – yet again for a full day of work. Lunch in the office was interesting. Listening to everyone’s stories how they are trapped there, don’t have the right ID, can’t visit their families in the Gaza strip, or outside of West Bank, and are not permitted to leave. A lovely girl from Gaza (Lama) told me stories of how Hamas burned out her parent’s theatre in Gaza, how she couldn’t go back, or leave Ramallah, or even get caught at a checkpoint in Ramallah, as she would be deported / transferred to Gaza, and she’d be trapped in that devastated prison too. Everyone had stories like this. Sad! So very sad!
Dinner tonight was in the Jerusalem Hotel, which had great atmosphere, nice food, good middle-eastern live music outside in the garden…. You definitely have to visit this place if you ever go to Jerusalem. Very cool!
Day 4 – GAZA! Awoke after a rough night’s sleep. Even though I was more or less packed the night before, and got up 40 minutes before, I was still a few minutes late for the 630am taxi. At 625am, Jo was in and shimmying me along. We left at 635am. Maybe 637am! Stopped off 5 minutes before the Erez crossing to get a coffee at a lovely little coffee shop in the middle of nowhere – Cup-o-Joe’s. I thought this would be our last for a couple of days. Gladly not!
Reaching the border crossing was strange. An airport-like fortress in the middle of nowhere. It was eerily quiet, with a gypsy-traveller looking woman outside.
Day 6
1030am - I write this whilst sitting at Eretz Crossing, on the Gaza / Israeli border. After what must be the most impressive security procedures in the world. A brief description: you drive from Gaza to the north of the strip, towards the Eretz crossing. First, you have to go through the Hamas checkpoint, in order to leave Gaza. Then you drive a bit towards no-man’s land to the Fatah (Palestinian Authority) checkpoint. See, although Fatah are not in power in Gaza, but in West Bank, the Israeli authorities will not speak to Hamas, therefore Hamas let Fatah be between them to do the coordination. So… the driver takes our passports in so that Fatah can notify the Israeli authorities that we are coming, while we wait outside in the baking sun with all the poor Palestinian souls hoping to get permission to cross. Really the only way you’re getting out is if you are a foreigner, or is you are dying (or if your kid is dying). On leaving the Fatah checkpoint in Gaza, you’re on your own. You walk across this wide barren desert landscape with the huge concrete wall ahead of you, with watch towers and cameras all the way along it. There’s a concrete tunnel you then pass through, then you’re walled and fenced in until you reach the end of the passage. There are 3 concrete doors in a concrete wall, numbered 1, 2 and 3 with green and red lights on them. There were loads of Palestinians there, waiting. It felt like we were in a cage. So, we plonked our bags on the ground and sat down and waited. Whilst we waited, we met 2 Palestinian boys, with luggage. I saw that one of them had an American visa in his passport. People are not allowed to leave so I was intrigued. One of them started speaking to us, and that kicked off the conversation. They were on their way to the USA. They’d won an International Scholarship from the US Department of State that promotes understanding among different cultures. On the Israeli side, the American Consul was waiting on them in cars to take them straight to Jordan where they could leave from.
Eventually one of the doors’ lights turned from red to green, the concrete door slid open and everyone started channeling through. On the other side a Palestinian man in Israeli vest was checking the bags. Then we were cleared to pass to the first of the many metal turnstiles ahead of us. You wait for the light to turn green then you go through the turnstile. You walk 50m ahead, turn to the right, then there are 3 more turnstiles, al red. You queue for a bit, whilst the light turns green and little by little we all trickle through. While waiting in this line, we met a lovely well-dressed Palestinian woman with a tiny 2 year old boy, Omar in her arms. Omar was sick. He had liver problems, and he was going to Jerusalem to hospital. The only problem was that Omar couldn’t be cured. They can’t do it in Israel or Gaza, and they don’t have the money for the operation. So his mother has been told that she should wait for Omar to die. She was so ??????? about it, smiling, but sad. Despite all the devastation and stories I’d heard in the past few days, this was the first time I started welling up. I had to look away and compose myself for a second. Then carry chatting to the other people in the queue.
Light turns green, we go through. This all looks like an airport by the way. We turn left, empty our bags and electrical equipment into boxes, and it goes off on a conveyor belt! Now it’s a series of glass doors, all locked with the same red lights. Off into the distance through all the glass, you can see a control room high above you, where the Israelis are sitting. Note that no Israelis have been personally present until now. Through one door, then another then another. Waiting between bulletproof glass walls each time. Then we reach the body scanner. The doors open, you step in, put your feet on the footholds, your arms in the air, the door closes, then the scanner does a 360 round your body. Before us was a mother and small son, with cataracts, leaving to go to Israel for medical treatment to try and save his eyesight. He and his mother spoke no English. They step into the scanner, and the Israeli security start saying something in Hebrew through the intercom. They can’t understand. Jo and I eventually ask what they are saying in English and they tell us. It’s one at a time. We take the boy out and try to calm him down. The mother stands inside the scanning cubicle, but the doors don’t close. She isn’t standing right, and has to open her legs. Again, the control room way off in the distance start saying something. She doesn’t understand. We translate when they tell us in English. She stands as directed, with open legs, the doors close, she’s scanned and cleared and the doors on the other side open, she steps out and they close again. There are now 2 bullet-proof doors between her and her petrified and bewildered son. The doors on our side open and we go into the scanner with the boy. We make him open his legs and stand on the footholds. He wont let go of his trousers. We try and eventually get him to hold his hands in the air, then step out of the machine while it takes a 360 scan of him. He’s cleared and the doors on the other side open and he’s re-joined with is mother.
It only took 2.5 hours to go through Security. Now I have been standing at the Border Security Station, where I have been questioned and asked for loads of information for the last 40 minutes. I have a number of dodgy stamps in my passport, including Afghanistan, therefore I have been pulled aside and am sitting here waiting to have Mossad check all my details through their systems, and probably have more questioning – along with all the other Palestinians. I’m bursting for a piss and guess what – there is no toilet!!! I’m looking at the girls in the security / immigration booths. They’re reading magazines, doing their nails and hair, and chatting on the phone. Whilst grilling me, they were chatting on the phone, swapping phones, pulling out their ear-rings and playing with them in front of me on the desk. It’s kind of funny, given what’s going on behind the scenes. Overall, though, the Israeli security / army / police were all VERY polite and nice… to me.
…………………… I eventually got released. It only took 4 hours. Everyone except me got through. While sitting there, something kicked off. Soldiers ran in from outside, started speaking into their mouthpieces, and had their rifles / guns in hand, ready to disperse. At one point they were going to evacuate me. Something was happening. I later found out that a soldier was reportedly kidnapped at a checkpoint, and the country was potentially going to go into lockdown. A full-blown lockdown didn’t follow, but checkpoints were put up everywhere and checks were stricter for the next few days. Welcome to Israel!
Got out, and jo (half way to Ramallah in the car), came back for me. Long ride back to the office where I met our lawyer, had some meetings then headed back to Jerusalem to dine at Jerusalem hotel and stay up half the night typing up my report for the next day’s debrief.
Day 7
Went back into the West Bank, spent the day tying things up and debriefed. Jo and I were DONE, so left in our car, picked up the bags at the St Georges Cathedral in Jerusalem and headed to Tel Aviv!!!
Arrived in Tel Aviv, and was blown away by how beautiful and funky the city looked. Coffee shops, restaurants, and shops galore! Eventually found and checked into the Cinema Hotel, which I highly recommend. Very central, in the shopping district, and close to beaches. Walked along the promenade towards the old town then back along the beach. Beautiful people! Packed beaches! Things I noted: people in Tel Aviv like to set up camp close to or in the water at the beach; bat and ball is huge, noisy and dangerous.
Jo and I had dinner at a Japanese restaurant on the street and a few glasses of wine! Gpt ready and headed out with Yaki to a very cool bar/restaurant whose name escapes me for champagne, then Evita, which was better than expected. Jo flagged and left and I went out to Yod then Dome with Yann and Eric, two randoms we met from Denmark in the bar. Stayed til 4 and headed home to pass out. Music was great, swimming pool, outside terrace. Muy divertido. Definitely recommend it. We met a really sweet guy at Yod who drove us in his BMW SUV to Dome, after picking up a gipsy and 2 friends, and then lost his key IN his car. That was a random sequence of events.
Day 8
A day at the beach…. We sat at Hilton beach all day, swam in the sea, which was so warm it was like having a bath. We eventually moved to the “quiet” beach (Gordon beach) in front of Chich, after drinking a bottle of wine each with lunch…. Only the quiet beach was quiet no more – all the Gs were out in force. Clearly they were nursing something from the night before when we passed that way in the morning.
Home to change, then it was off out to Jaffa / Yafo, the Old City, for dinner on a rooftop. Memorable things from the day: the hot water in the sea, the vibrancy of the Tel Aviv youth – all out in groups or couples and constantly chatting and socializing, if not in person then on the phone.
Jaffa was lovely. It had a lot of character and was more akin to being middle-eastern than anywhere we’d been in Tel Aviv. After dinner we stopped off at a bar where Jo was drooling over the bar tender, then to Chich beach for a few drinks, where the highlight, apart from being able to sit outside, was the traditional Jewish dancing, and huge line-dancing classes on the shore. The most memorable things from the rest of the night were: the sweet and pungent taste of the home-made pickled-herring that lingered; the beautiful sound that was the call to prayer from the luminous green-lit mosque whilst we sat and ate in Jaffa - the first time I have actually enjoyed it; the old male violinist with his guitar-plucking wife who were simply incredible.
Day 9 – Our last day in Israel started with a run along the promenade in the morning, followed by breakfast, a bit of shopping, lunch and coffee. Easy day!!! Then it was Ben-Gurion bound for us where we were quizzed and checked inside out by security at the airport. Very professional and polite, and thorough as hell – once again, impressive!
