This is Israel

Because I had such a negative customs experience in Ireland, I was internally freaking out about what would happen when I arrived in Israel. I'm a bad liar, and while no one was asking me to lie, there were certain things that I needed to leave out in order to transition smoothly into the country. I saw this in Ireland, and I knew I would also see it in Israel. I was literally picturing a holding cell. Therefore, I planned on spending some time in London Heathrow to work out coherent, yet vague, words to articulate when I landed. Well that never happened.

I chose to fly El Al, which I knew was an Israeli company, but I didn't know that it was THE national airline. I should have known that I was in for a thrill in Heathrow when I got to the El Al check in, back alone in a corner of the airport, and there were about four guards standing there wearing bullet proof vests. You know how check-in sections in the airport are roped off, and at the end of the maze, you reach the counter? Yeah, not this time. Dead end. A woman approached me and, based on a couple questions, determined she could bring me to a podium away from the check-in to ask me security questions. My passport clearly shows that I've been to Arab countries. I'm traveling alone. I refused to say that I had friends or family in the country because I knew I would throw the "religious sister" flag on the play. This made the five weeks in Israel sound a little fishy, especially after I spat out "unemployment" as my current occupation. Did I mention I have -5 improv skills? Well, I think this girl was new. So she asked me one of those string-of-questions questions where you only hear part of it, but I definitely caught the phrase "carrying any bombs" in there.  My mouth might have dropped, but at the minimum, my face said that I was horrified that this was her impression of me. I think I whispered my "no." A man then casually walked over and asked if I kept in touch with the friends I made in the Middle East, and I--like the wise, I-actually-studied-this-and-truly-do-know-better gal that I am--said, "Not really. Maybe on Facebook." For those of you who don't know what this means, at this point in the conversation, I have made myself sound extremely suspicious, like I'm part of a bona fide grassroots terrorist cell.

I would just like to take a moment to say that, in school, if I didn't actually know the material, I did poorly. I'm actually 90% wrong on True/False questions if I don't study. The first point of that tangent is this: I earned my grades. The second point: I do life like I did school, and this time, I did not prepare. I was not expecting this interrogation in London.

So they let me check-in after putting some security tags around my bags and telling me they would search my hand luggage at the gate. Great. After going through regular airport security, I walked to the gate. Wouldn't you know who was waiting for me when  I arrived? That's right, the man and woman from check-in. They pulled me aside into a room (which may or may not have been the multi faith prayer room, but there was definitely a sign pointing that direction) with a group of four Arab men. When the woman came to take my things, I asked her if I would have to get rechecked if I wanted to use the toilet later before embarking on the five-hour journey (because the toilet was not in that gate area where they were rechecking everyone's passports). She said, "Why don't you just go now?" So by golly, I did, even though I didn't really have to go just then. And I left my things--money, credit cards, PC, etc.-- with them as a sign of good faith. I didn't want to be suspected of accepting packages from strangers on my way to and from the restroom. Anyways, they swiped some kind of wand over my shoes, took everything out of my bags, and definitely went through the cards in my wallet, which I found especially creepy. Just for an accurate picture, there were two Jewish women who were also being searched, although they didn't appear Jewish in any way.

You thought that was the end, didn't you? No, still more. The woman in this tale came onto the plane looking for my seat number, and once she saw me, she asked my name. I gave her my first name, and she asked if my middle name was Marie. Upon the affirmative, she marked something in a notebook and walked away. After the safety show on the airplane, the El Al tagline on the TV struck me as insightful: El Al, this isn't just an airline, this is Israel. Then it all made sense. The airline wasn't just a company operating within Israel, it was an extension of the state itself. And that's my first impression of this country. Welcome to Israel.

Sitting pretty at a Franciscan coffee shop :)

Oh yes, and my checked bag (and the checked bags of the other 20-something Americans that I met on the plane) were lost. And then my bag was also clearly searched. But it has been returned, so no worries there!