Conflict Zone: Geneva

(Introduction: For those of you who don’t know, I have just left the country to spend the next 3 months working in Bethlehem in the West Bank. I’ll be living and working for a Christian school and home for disabled kids. This is the tale of my time getting to Israel and Palestine.)
Last I remember, Switzerland was a land of abundant beauty, delicious chocolate & cheese, and peace; the neutral country. As we filed off the plane, myself and a few others become separated from the pack – due, of course, to our final destination: Tel Aviv. What you wouldn’t know until you attempt travel to Israel is this: any airport providing flights into Israel has a separate wing, separate security, separate regulations in place for their travelers. Myself and the other Tel Aviv bound passengers were brought through another round of security scanning (passed) and a questioning process (interrogation) inquiring or purpose in the country (failed). I’m not sure if I was too smiley or fidgeting like a caught criminal, but the Israeli checkpoint man was not convinced.

He wanted to know what I was doing in Israel, why I was traveling alone, who I knew there.. The conversation to the last question went a little something like this, “Do you know anyone in Israel?”, “Well I met a bunch of Israelis while I was traveling through Central America”, “what are their names?”, “Uh, Adi Simone.. um, sir I don’t know their last names, I just traveled with them, that’s all”. I don’t think he understood because he continued to ask where they live, what they do, etc etc.

From there I was asked how long I was staying in the country (almost 3 months). His response to this was, “How can you afford to take that much time off, you have lots of money in America?” At that point, I explained working and living in South Korea as an English teacher. I have to believe this is what tipped him off that I was a terrorist/anti-Israel fanatic, because he brought my passport over to another lady, they both look up at me as they discuss my possibly impressionable character in Hebrew, and then I was escorted below..

At this point, the man questioning me hands me off to another man who very kindly asks to look through all of my belongings and test everything for explosives (I think? Whatever they are testing when they rub that tissue all over and then stick it into the machine, waiting for the green light that says ‘you’re clear’). Then they asked permission to check through all of my checked luggage as well. So I sat. I sat and thought how odd it was to see a security man walking around with a machine gun in Switzerland. Thirty minutes later when they finished, another man, slightly more important looking, comes over and asks me the same round of questions. I may have looked like a deer in headlights, but apparently I was a deer who kept giving them the same answer because I was eventually told to have a nice trip and was sent on my way.

And when I finally reached Tel Aviv, the passport check asked one question, one time: “what is the purpose of your travel”. And the gentleman at customs asked me one question, one time, simply handed me back my passport and said, “Welcome to Israel”. I’m certainly not complaining, just expressing how odd I thought the order of that experience was. All is well (I guess). I am here, I am alive, I have more freedom as a visitor than any Arab has as a citizen in their own land.