Wednesday, February 14, 2007

July 15, 2005 Sweet Home Sweet! One

July 15, 2005 Sweet Home Sweet



So it took me nearly five years to take a chance and go back to Gaza to visit my family. I was in DC and my work permit was expiring mid May and my work wanted to keep me longer I could not legally do it and school was coming in the Fall, so I saw that I had some time that I could spare and see my family which I love and miss so much. My family has asked me every summer to go, but I could not due to complexity of the situation and the unrest which does not bother me, but getting caught in the middle disturbs me. My friends in DC and I kicked it for a long time (Joey, Kari, Kellee,) and I bought a ticket on the Russian airlines out of Virginia Dulles Airport. The Russian had a good deal for about less than $1000, a round trip ticket to Cairo International Airport. I called the Israeli embassy a week before and inquired about flying into the Tel Aviv airport, they hang up the phone on me! Was not nice, but I think they thought I was a prankster.

July 15th 2004 was a Saturday and my friends from Senegal, Ethiopia, and Bahrain decided to come to the airport with me to see me off. Getting lost in the Dulles airport is a must and part of the experience, but when I got to the register, it took them more than 20 minutes to figure out the code for Palestinian passport, they panicked and I panicked as well, I thought they would not let me fly that day. They tried to put PAL , PNA and none of them worked, finally when they called some superior they figured it out. I came to later know that it was PSE even the Egyptians airport struggled with that one. Anyways, the give me the ticket and take my language and I see my friends off, I go into one of these giagantic trucks that moves travelers from a gate to a bus and the bus takes you to the airplane. But before then, the immigration guys took I-94 form from my passport and give me back my passport. I get in the airplane and I release I am in a foreign country already, English is not spoken and if spoken it is spoken in a very strange manner. Anyhow, the flight was headed to Moscow and the crew was very helpful and there was several meals and refreshments served. A day before my friend Kari Ann bought me the Thomas Friedman’s book “The World is Flat” a very entertaining book with many new concepts. I get to Moscow and man I started to notice the changes already, different languages, people from all over the planet, 10 years back in technology, everything is overpriced, but smoke—my dad instructed me to buy him some cigarettes something I did not want to do. I did not know how much I appreciated life in the US till I go there, but people were nice, granted music and movies were more expensive than in the US.

Couple of hours later we board the jet and be on our way to Egypt. But before I boarder the jet, I ran into a couple of ladies I have met back in BYU and we had mutual friends, it was fun to see how far the BYU connection can go, we actually even sat near each other on the jet. They were going to visit Janice, a mutual friend of ours from Michigan, she was studying Arabic there. Couple of hours later, we are in Cairo and getting our language together, I could feel the change again there, people look like me and speak my native tongue, but I was not adjusted, I was still thinking in English and speaking it in to people who do not necessarily understand it. My good American friends—by now we are good friends—they wanted to wait for me so we can share a cab, but I wished things worked this way for us. I knew their American passport can get them very far, but mine cannot get me anywhere. So I told them to go ahead and leave without me and I will catch up with them later—was call on my part. So the border’s officer sees my passport and tell me to stand aside, I did. A minute later some uniformed officer comes and tell me to grab my stuff and follow him. They take me to this dark room and looks really old and has a funky smell to it. There were a grouped of four uniformed officers enjoying their dinner, I was told to take a seat and wait. Which I did, there was a Sudanese gentleman was sitting next to me, very fun guy who worked in the gulf and wanted to take care of business before he heads home. He told me about a security officer who will call me in a minute and ask me questions and wants to see my paper. The Sudanese man told me to “bribe” the officer in fact he gave me Egyptian money to do it—I only had Dollars with me. I thought from the movies this is a common practice in Egypt in the rest of the world. The officer called me in, he was a young hot shot who did not have a uniform, asked for my papers and I shoed him what I had and told him I have an appointment in the American embassy in the morning that I needed to go to. He was really nice person; he called his superior to ask his opinion on what to do with me. The last thing was for me to give this guy a bribe, I chickened out and I did not do it. The officer asked me questions and basic things then 20 minutes later he told me that I got to go to the deportation room, a room where they put the world rejects to deport them or escort them to other ports so they can get the heck out of Egypt. He said some odd comment as I was leaving “You and the Jews are cousins, you are one family and they should take care of you” I was not sure what he meant, but I thanked the officer and went to the room in a bus, where they guy harassed me about giving him a tip which I did. But before I can leave the airport, there was a more senior officer with many stars on his shoulder told me “and take care of me too, I want to live” “E7nah 3awzeen ni3eesh Kaman” I said sure, and walked away.

Finally, I get to the room where all my home boys are placed and there are two police officers with big books guarding them. There was no one in the room but Palestinians young and old male and female. I was so happy to see my home boys and so many of them, these guys received me and talked to me, asked me questions about my family and my background, they told me to shave my beard for my mom. They got me some tea—Ido not think the honor code was in affect then; I was not yet a student of BYU and send a runner to get us some food, he stole our money, but got us a sandwich or two for a lot of $$$...I had my camcorder with me and filmed the room and the nasty bathrooms in there, I even interviewed some of these guys for fun. They news from home were not all great, but the Israelis were. So I was in the room by 5 AM and the bus that will take us to Rafah cross the Sinai comes three hours later. So after handing the officers with cigarettes and handing out cigarettes to some no ones that I needed nothing from, more security guys come and ask us to drag our stuff and follow them. These guys were not nice, they were demeaning and rude, some of out hot blooded Palestinians almost caught in fights with them, but good thing we had older people who were peacemakers.

We go through customers and these guys open out bags and play with the contents like they know what they are doing then they ask me, if I had any electronics on me, “Yes, I do have the camcorder!” he tell me to fetch it and then I panicked, I thought he would check out the content of the tape and then get me in trouble for filming the nasty bathrooms. But he did not; he simply just wrote that I had a camera on my passport so the guys at the other end of the borders will make sure I still have it with me and not just drop it in the way to some Egyptian dude. Minutes later we were on our way on a good condition bus, the driver an armed security officer were to accompany us all they way from Cairo to the Rafah borders. They charged us an arm and a leg for the ride and they took us to shop in places that took advantage of us so they can get a kick back. For example water bottles in Egypt are about .25 US cents, but the place he took us to was about $1.5, as much as I tried to bargain with this guy he would not let down. I also could not go very far because these guys have my passport.

During the ride, I could not help but notice the many security check points we had to go through and the number of military police spread all over the place in the streets and on the roads. I think it was six hours later, we made it to the Egyptian borders and there were huge lines there, was very chaotic and so many boys running around slamming you with all sorts of tickets and fees that you are to pay to them, some shady stuff, but if you travel on this road many times, you get the idea. Anyhow, the Egyptians custom agents check my language, go through it and look at my walkie talkies and ask me about them, the handle of my bag breaks and it became harder to carry it, but once the custom guys cleared me, I was to load my stuff into a new bus that will take me to the Israelis. Before I do that, I tracked the guy who signs off on my passport that he checked the camcorder, I found him and he singed it for me, he had no uniform on which was confusing.

Right where the Egyptian borders, there are shops selling cheap merchandise like smoke, cheeses, and some other things, many Palestinians use and abuse these cheap products and make huge profits by just carrying it through the borders to sell it for four to six times as much. Before we left there was many fees we were to pay to the good people of Egypt about 180 Egyptian pounds to get departure permission, once you do that, you load up everyone in a crappy bus and head to the Israeli side which is a very interesting experience.

So, twenty minutes later, we get to the Israeli side of the Rafah Borders, it was much nicer than what I have seen so far, and much more sophisticated and armed. There were so many armed officers who look ready to shoot t any given point. They looked tense and prepared in their green uniforms and large guns. In the bus all the men and boys were standing and the ladies were sitting, the bus was crowded, people want to get home and get to the Israelis before they closet their side—if one misses they would have to sleep on the borders for the night, where no services or anything provided. We start unloading the buses at that point it was in the afternoon around 3-4 PM, before we go into the same building where the Israeli border guys check us in, we had to go through some sophisticated technology that resembles an MRI machine, only standing and one goes in there for about 30 seconds and there are instructions on how to do it properly, during that time the Israeli officers are watching you inside the machine and another one only few feet away with a gun in an aim position. All men had to go in the MRI machine, most women had to go there, but sometimes they will send the pregnant women to another machine. I go through clean and get into the office, the agents collect our passports and ask us to wait in a waiting area, and there were chairs and air conditioning, it was a nice setting. Most people will be called in about five minutes and they go through security and collect their belongings and go to the other side and load their language and get ready to get to the Palestinian side. I waited for five, ten, fifteen, twenty, half hours and bit more then three officers in civilian clothing come—two males and a female. They spoke to me in English “Are you tired” They asked. “No, but you know, long trip” I replied. Then he said “where you coming from” “US, Moscow, Cairo” I said at that point he started touching me in the stomach area like he was looking for weapons or whatever. Then, they took me into a room inside and asked me to put all my stuff in the box and take out my shirt, I did do all that, an officer came and run a machine on me and then told me to wait, another officer who spoke in Arabic—but he was not an Arab told me to come to a room with him. In the room there was another officer on a computer and greeted me. They both started talking to me. They asked me the basis questions: “where have you been?” “how was the trip?” What did I do in America? Who are my friends? Who paid for my school—thanks to BYU, that was an answer that helped a lot. I answered all their questions and the conversation was so casual that we talked about an Israeli pop artists and one of the officers went back and got me a poster with her asking me “do you still think she is hot?” Do not get me wrong these guys were professional and asked the real questions, and even gave me love advice on who to marry and what to do with my life. He offered me a bottle of Sprite half empty, I declined. But the other officers he was an Argentine Jew, so we spoke in Spanish, he liked that. I told the officer that I needed help to get out of the Gaza Strip, he said that will take forever and I need to file with some administrative agency and because of my young age this will take some time. They also asked about a family member who has the same name as mine, I said I have no idea who was this guy, but we offred to call my mom and ask her for that guy’s info, but they said there was no need. After 15 minutes I was done, they cleared me to go, I went out picked my language and went to the bus that takes us to the Palestinian side, I was so relieved when I left the Israeli side, I really felt that they will keep me or something. The bus was crowded and the Palestinian guys opened the border gate and let us in, as we were unloading our belongings, the Palestinian officers came and collected out passports and asked us to go about a block to get them. A taxi driver grabbed me and told me he will get me my passport for me and drive me home, he told me it will cost me about $35 to get me home, I bargained, but could not get much—it was a rip-off though. I went with him and the officers from the National Security or the Preventative Force handed me my passport and asked, if the Israelis have talked to me, I said “Yes, they did” at that point, he called another guy and asked me to go in for an interview. I was not surprised, the Egyptians met me, the Israelis interviewed me and the Palestinians have to do that as well. The interview had the same questions, who pays for my college? And if the Israelis have offered me any sort of help. I said no, no such thing and I said that I had a scholarship that pays lots of money. The driver was yelling at me to get back so we can get to the check point before they close, we had about an hour drive to get to my town. The security officer asked me if I pray, which was an odd question. The fact that I told him about going to a Christian school confused him. When my answer was “alhamdulilah” praise the lord, which means a humble yes. He let me off the hook. I was now done which security clearances for one day, and was getting ready to surprise my family who did not know of my visit—just ideas, nothing solid.

I discovered that there is a new check point “Abu Hooli” which could give us a wait of hours and maybe days, this check point borders an Israeli settlement and Israeli soldiers have killed many there, some Palestinian have actually done some damage there to the Israelis. And there is a new street that the Israelis bulldozed so the cars cannot go from the North to the South or the other way around. All these things were not mentioned to me by the driver who said “Bawaslak la bab elbeet” I will take you to the house door, but he did not intend to do that he deceived me and I did not know better. Anyway, we got to the checkpoint and there was a long caravan of cars waiting to be allowed in, there was a bunch of Palestinian capitalists are taking advantage of this bad situation by selling tea, coffee, nuts….etc. we waited for about half an hour, people started slightly moving forward and our driver moved forward too, the Israelis are yelling at the people not to move forward, fired guns at them, but it looked that people were sick of waiting and decided to cross the checkpoint which we did, we were luck that our car was surrounded by tow huge tomato trucks so if the Israelis shot we will be safe. We made it out of that area and 15 minutes on the road, we heard that a 15 year old kid was killed at the same checkpoint, he was from almasri family.

About 30 minutes way from home, the cocky driver, who was rushing things, got us in a CAR ACCIDENT with another car. I was shocked and could not talk at that point. I literary had to jump from my seat to avoid hurting my legs—I was sitting in the front seat. People started gathering near the car asking me about what happened. I said nothing I was like, I spend five years in the US and I could have died in a car accident 30 minutes away from home. It was ironic, and I was mad at the situation, both drivers and the crappy roads. So the driver asked for the money and arrange for another car to drive me to the next point, where the street has been bulldozed where I switch cars. The new driver asked me about the accident, I did not want to talk about it, but there was a guy with a beard in the taxi with us, he was from jabalyah camp, the closest to home, so he helped me move my stuff from the taxi when we switched and I invited home to share the taxi with me where I pay for both of us—I was paying the same amount anyways. In the way, they started talking politics, he was mad at the US and the war in Iraq, US support to Israel and the list gets bigger. I kept my conversation short, now my hear is jumping from my body, it is already home. I was thinking about going back to the old streets, and the places where I grew up. Things changes to the worse from what I can see, the streets have more graffiti and guns are everywhere, roads are damaged—what do you expect from a five year intifadah? I barely could recognize my street, but I did and three minutes I was at the door of my house, I could not believe it, it was so surreal, some of the neighbor kids came to the car, but I did not want them to ruins the surprise, I ran as fast as I could to see my family and surprise them. And the taxi started unloading my two bags. I knock the door and my sister in law—I did not know her by then and have not met her before opens the door. I asked if my mom was there, and she was and walk into the room or the kitchen and there she was, she could not believe it, she was crying, laughing smiling, she was overwhelmed with emotions. She was so happy and so was I. and everyone started coming to our house, news spread fast courtesy of my countless nephews and nieces, an hour later, our house was like a small town. My brothers and sisters have grown up, some were much bigger and taller than I recall, my dad closed the shop early and joined us, he also was overwhelmed and proud that I could come and surprise them in this fashion. He looked a bit older, but his hair was in its place. My sisters all have small armies of kids enough to start a third intifadah. It was one of the greats feelings I have experience in my life. The only bad part about this trip was the fact that my mom got sick for a week because the surprise shocked her. Next time I will give them enough time notice. Perhaps the fact that I was lucky in my travel, pretty much everything worked out for me, borders were opend and my way was clear, did not have to stay weeks on the borders like others who had to go through this humiliation.


To be continued…..

1 comments:

Liz Adair on February 18, 2007 at 1:21 PM said...

Hani--
I did not realize when you talked about the difficulty of going home what it was really like.

You write so well! I can't wait to read more.

 

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