First day May 29, 2010

While I was in Cairo preparing my things for this trip I decided to lay everything out on my bed so I could double check to make sure everything was kosher (pun intended) for my trip. I would be traveling by bus so I knew any of my things could be checked at the border. While looking at my things it made me realize how much of my identity is associated with being Arab. There were pins I had to take off of bags, scarves I had to leave behind, even pieces of identification I could not bring. I was shedding things and I did not like how I had to hide a part of me that I am normally very proud of.

On the bus ride I thought about how I felt about this, not being able to be openly proud about a certain part of my identity, but this led to a deep feeling of appreciation. On a regular basis I can be proud of this and show all the colors, flags, pins, bells and whistles I want. I am fortunate and so very lucky to be able to do this. It also made me wonder how different I would be if I did not have this freedom through out my life.

I took the bus from Cairo to Taba and as I passed through the Egyptian side of the border I was greeted with smiles and jokes, the standard Egyptian behavior. It set my nervousness about crossing the border aside and began to feel optimistic about it. As soon as I got to the Israeli side of things it was a completely different experience. I approached the first woman with a smile on my face and was immediately asked to step aside upon seeing my name. Another man approached me after about 10 minutes of waiting and proceeded to ask me questions about my family, my background, and what I was doing in Israel. I responded with very brief answers and then was left to proceed through the actual building.
When I put my bags through the xray machine I was asked to open and unpack everything on the other side in front of everyone around me. Once my luggage was OK'ed I went to another window to finally get my passport stamped and I thought I was going to be free to go. She asked the same questions the first man asked me, and a few more. One of the last questions was about my religion. I told her I was a floater and a dabbler and preferred the term 'spiritual'. I thought it was a good non-answer. She then decided to point out to me that my "middle name is Mohamed. Your father's first name is Mohamed." I smiled and nodded. She then asked what religion I was raised as and I had to respond 'Muslim'. I was then taken into another room.

The new man asked me all of the same previous questions, but focused more on my paternal grandfather and what I was doing in Israel. My grandfather passed away when I was six, so my memory of him is vague and he was displeased that I didn't really know anything about him. After questioning me for a good while, he asked me to wait outside while my 'passport got checked and processed'. I played solitaire on my ipod for about an hour and a half before I was given my passport and finally allowed out.

I was exhausted and grumpy, especially because I saw so many people just breeze through. I decided to spoil myself and take a cab to the main bus station in Eilat, instead of waiting for the bus. Once I got to the station I was given different information about which bus to take, so I decided to go with my intuition and hop on the bus that said it was going to Jerusalem but sold out. The bus driver informed I would have to stand and I agreed since I just wanted to arrive in Jerusalem since I had been traveling for 11 hours at this point. There ended up being 4 empty seats so I did get to sit down. The ride took about 4 hours and I felt uncomfortable the entire ride. One man kept looking back at me with a scowl on his face and I just did not feel the same warmth I feel on Egyptian buses. When we got closer to Jerusalem I asked the man next to me if he spoke English and then asked him if he knew where the Christmas hotel was as I handed him a slip of paper that had the address. He informed me that the hotel was in East Jerusalem, dropped the slip of paper back into my hands and turned away to look out the window.

I had no idea where the central bus station was in relation to East Jerusalem and I was slowly becoming more grumpy that I had not seen one smile since I crossed the border. Once I got to the central bus station I finally received helpful information on my first try and set out to find bus 23, which would be the last leg of my journey to Jerusalem. It took awhile to find the 23 stop especially since I couldn't find anyone that spoke English/knew where the stop was. I ended up waiting on the wrong side of the road and when I got on the bus and asked about Salah el din St. I was yelled at in Hebrew, then the passengers yelled the translation to me.

I crossed the street, got on the right bus and meekly asked the driver to tell me when I was at Salah el din St, an Arab passenger behind me said to the driver, "I'll let her know". The Arab passenger, Magdy, smiled and said he'd help me out. I was so thankful to have a smiling helpful person in front of me, I wanted to hug the man. We chatted during the bus ride in Arabic and he helped me find the hotel. He then shook my hand and then went off to Nablus. He literally went out of his way to help me. It was such a contrast. I don't know if it's the color of my skin, or the fact that my face does look Arab, or just a string of bad luck, but I was saddened by my welcome to this country. I'm pretty sure I would have started crying had Magdy not shown up.