shy boys with ringlets and old women in hijab, teenagers in tshirts carrying m-16s, blocking off tiny streets at random intervals. they don't let the old women pass by. what are they so afraid of, with their guns and suspicious eyes?
i dont even know what to write about our trip. we went to palestine and israel- jerusalem, tel aviv, jaffa, and the west bank. it is, like damascus, too big to write about. but i will attempt to narrate it in a semi-comprehensible fashion.
since when have i ever managed to narrate anything in a semi-comprehensible fashion?
this is day 1.
we started off as usual: insane. having spent 7jd on a bus from amman to the israeli border, we had to meet the bus at 6am to leave. my host grandfather (he's far too old to be my father and far too sweet to be my landlord) kindly drove us to the bus station, so as it turned out we were right on time at the wrong bus station. oh, traveling. no matter, we were herded by no less than 15 men onto a bus which, they assured us, was the right bus, and was going to jerusalem.
we started off as usual: insane. having spent 7jd on a bus from amman to the israeli border, we had to meet the bus at 6am to leave. my host grandfather (he's far too old to be my father and far too sweet to be my landlord) kindly drove us to the bus station, so as it turned out we were right on time at the wrong bus station. oh, traveling. no matter, we were herded by no less than 15 men onto a bus which, they assured us, was the right bus, and was going to jerusalem.
it was not the right bus.
but, really, we were doing well-- we were on a bus at the time we were supposed to be on a bus, going to the destination we were supposed to be traveling to. all's well with the world? well for most of us haha.
we did in fact get there, where our extremely unhelpful bus driver directed us to the jordanian arrivals building. no matter that were clearly not arriving in jordan, since he had driven us to the border... from jordan? the man was confused. so we went inside and pointlessly put our bags through the scanny thing and then were directed right back out to the departures side. elhamdelileh someone knew what they were doing.
the border was ridiculous, as, i have discovered, are all borders in the so-called "middle east"
(a term i have grown to despise, really, for its utter inadequacy). but it was ridiculous in a different and possibly opposite way than the syrian border. we got off the bus to see, first thing, a man-- no, definitely a boy-- maybe in his 20s, maybe, in a pastel yellow polo with tiny blue stripes, aviator sunglasses, and cargo pants, carrying the biggest gun i've ever seen in real life.
the border was ridiculous, as, i have discovered, are all borders in the so-called "middle east"
(a term i have grown to despise, really, for its utter inadequacy). but it was ridiculous in a different and possibly opposite way than the syrian border. we got off the bus to see, first thing, a man-- no, definitely a boy-- maybe in his 20s, maybe, in a pastel yellow polo with tiny blue stripes, aviator sunglasses, and cargo pants, carrying the biggest gun i've ever seen in real life.
set the tone for the trip, i must say.
we made it through the border in 40 minutes (WITH NO PASSPORT STAMPS ELHAMDELILEH), although they did pull daylily aside and question her because her name is "arabic". in real life, her name is hebrew too, as well as very very very american. they told her she couldn't go through, then later changed their minds. just being jerks, in my opinion. we then waited 3 HOURS for our other friends, who were detained and questioned for the entire time because one of them wears a hijab and her family is iranian. i was thoroughly annoyed by the time we finally got out of there.
i can't even explain what we did in jerusalem. walking, looking, feeling overwhelmed, damascus gate to jaffa gate, the old city. stone corridors and so, so, so many different kinds of people. orthodox jewish scholars, with their giant hats and ringlets, americans in shorts and tshirts, palestinian boys running in packs, chasing bikes. shopkeepers calling, welcome to my shop. beautiful girl, welcome to my shop. welcome to jerusalem. take this dress for free, come have coffee with me. do you like coffee? welcome, beautiful girl.
women in hijab, with them i feel more comfortable. tank tops and shorts confuse me, scandalize me. corridors, covered, inside outside in the same place. hallways full of millions and millions of things, scarves and shirts and dresses and dried fruit and spices and sandals and toys and necklaces and bracelets and pottery and plastic dolls and flashing mini helicopters. welcome, beautiful girl. please come in, do you like tea? everything free for you, beautiful girl.
we walk down the corridor, never even so much as looking at them. that's when they think they've got you, when you look at them. eye contact here is very meaningful, very sensual. looking at a man means he thinks he has possessed you, in some small way. so it depends on the day, some days i refuse their black and white terms of combat, and stare right back. what are you looking at? what right do you think you have to even look at me? and whisper like that to your friend? but other days, many days, i accept the terms and look straight ahead. sometimes it is a bigger victory to let them think what they will.
we walk the whole of the old city, stumbling into armenian chapels and gaping more at the girls in tank tops than at the ancient walls. tired of carrying our bags, we make our way to our first home in this new city. dani's house.
dani is pronounced "donnie". he is our first couchsurfing experience, and already now feels like an old friend. couchsurfing, first of all, is exactly what it sounds. there is a website (couchsurfing.com, go figure), and you go on it and find people in the area you're going to who are willing to lend you a couch for a night or 2. be sure to pick someone who has had several references, and good ones, in order to avoid the natural sketchiness that comes with staying with people you've never met. it sounds a little dangerous, but there were 3 of us, and we made sure to pick people who had previously had girls stay with them, and all given them good references. i'm telling you all, im never staying in a hostel again. couchsurfing is awesome, and dani was the first.
he lives in the german quarter of west jerusalem, which looks very much like downtown saratoga. really, israel proper looks like california. and the sun was shining and i was wearing flip flops and jeans and a tank top, and utterly, utterly confused as to who i was and where.
we met our host, who cooked us spaghetti and gave us blankets and couches, and let us use his internet. we then went out to a bar in city central, which is now my favorite in the world. if any of you ever go to jerusalem, i will direct you to the coolest backdoor bar in the world.
parked on the sidewalk (oh, amman, some things are universal) and hung out there for quite a while, talking to dani's actor friends and drinking goldstar, a very good and cheap israeli beer. this was our first experience with israelis we knew, so it was an interesting night. by interesting, i mean weird.
"what are you doing in israel?"
"well, we're on a break- we study in jordan, in amman, and this is our spring break".
"wait you study in jordan? why would you ever want to do that?"
and so it goes. wait you study arabic? why dont you study hebrew? wait do i speak arabic, no why would i? i live in israel. i speak hebrew and english. why would you ever want to study arabic? i mean i guess it's a good tool if you wanted to work for the american government. they do need help catching the terrorists.
dear god. where where where AM i?
and that was day 1.
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