epilogue

I was going to write this in the airport before I left, but then Ben Gurion security happened.
Then jet lag hit.
Then I went to Michigan.
Then there was that little wedding thing.
Then there was RA training.
Now, a month later, I guess I'll bring my story to its full conclusion.

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All in all, I had a pretty good last day in the Promised Land.

Sleeping on the roof turned out to be pretty nice, except I woke up freezing when the sun rose at 5:30 am. Oh well. Part of the deal with being on the roof meant you had to be out of bed by 8am, so I had an early start to the day. Had a smoothie for breakfast and walked around a bit of the Old Jaffa sea wall, then headed to the beach.

First off, I think the Mediterranean might be my new favorite body of water. It is the absolute perfect temperature, and the waves are awesome. I also had the great and hilarious privilege of watching a group of preteens attempting to learn how to surf, which was really entertaining. The only downside of the whole experience involved getting very awkwardly hit on by a 30-something year old Israeli in a Speedo, but that's another story. After lying out/swimming for a while, I headed up the street to grab lunch. I figured as my last real meal in Israel I should actually go to a restaurant, since (other than the night with the Ethiopian food) I had yet to actually eat a sit down meal. Ate an amazing caprese sandwich at a place called CaFEZ, and then wandered off to the shuk. Around this time I started to get a pretty bad headache, probably due to the heat, but I kept pushing through. Bought a pretty sweet rug for 20 shekels, a couple of dresses from a guy who was a major creeper (but he did give me a good deal), and this really crazy pair of tie dyed pants I couldn’t resist. By this point my head was really throbbing, so I went back to the hostel and fell asleep on their couch for a few hours. Got up, head was still hurting. Went for some gelato and back to the couch, still hurting. Finally gave up on feeling better before my flight and decided to start making the journey to the airport for my 12:40am flight. At about 6:30pm, I set out with all my stuff.

I did pretty well at navigating the bus this time around, and managed to make it to the train station all right. Trains are the easy part. I can do trains. Took one to the airport and got there around 8pm.

And this is where the insanity begins.

First of all, nobody told me that at Ben-Gurion, you cannot check in until 3 hours before your flight. Given my experience in this airport, I think this is totally stupid. Had I gotten there only 3 hours before and been put through everything I was, I would never in a million years have made my flight to JFK. Luckily, because a group of about 20 Americans on an archaeological dig had been told that they could check in four hours before and were all standing around waiting, they started the process early.

Second, the Israeli equivalent of TSA apparently thinks I am a terrorist. AWESOME.

Step One: Brief interrogation. Why are you in Israel? Where have you been? What did you do? Has anyone given you a gift while here? Where has your luggage been? Who packed your luggage? Are you carrying any sharp objects? Etc, etc, etc. Not too harsh or forward, just a slight annoyance.

Step Two: Bags are x-rayed. In my case, x-rayed twice. I apparently have some sketchy looking clothing.

Step Three: Bags are searched and swabbed for anthrax/explosives. Most everything is removed, and has to be repacked. Again, a pain, but whatever. More questions are asked, about the contents of the luggage.

Step Four: Waiting in line to check bags. Takes forever. Then, when you finally get to the front of the line, FREAKING DELTA WOMAN DECIDES TO TAKE HER BREAK leaving you and a line of twenty people behind you to scurry into another line. Urrrrrrghhhh. You get to the front of the line again, and the woman tells you you have to take your bag to another location “because it has straps”. WHAT THE HELL?!

Step Five: You walk your strappy bag down to an elevator, where you are asked more questions about your luggage.

Step Six: You go to the post office and mail in your rental phone. Easiest part of the whole airport experience!

Step Seven: Security checkpoint #2. Your carryons are x-rayed and searched. You are told all your electronics will have to be checked, “just because”. Never mind that the person in front of you just got through with her laptop. You are asked more questions. Why did you come to Israel? BECAUSE IT’S A PRETTY BALLER PLACE. Why are you alone? BECAUSE I’M A FREAKING ADULT. Who do you know in Israel? Who did you work for? Who else lives in Nimrod? Do you have any proof of you being there? Why did you go to Nazareth? Security man then reads your entire journal and asks you questions about its contents. Then you are told you are going to have to go back to the outer security checkpoint to have your bags searched again and check electronics through to JFK.

Step Eight: Back at bag search, every item is removed from your carryons, xrayed, and swabbed. Every. Single. Item. Each individual thing from your wallet, every bandaid, all of it. Highlights: "What is this?" "...a rape whistle (compliments of Lydia)." "Why do you have it?" (.....how do you explain to them your friend thought you would need a rape whistle in their country without offending them? They're like, the most patriotic people in the world!) My personal favorite, however: "What do you keep in this?" (shakes item) ".......um......that's a tampon."

Step Nine: I have to leave my stuff to be searched and am taken to a side room where I am swabbed all over and questioned some more.

Step Ten: Back to bag search, where they are going through all the photos on my camera and the songs on my Ipod. Can you tell a terrorist by his music, I wonder? They then proceed to pack everything except my wallet and a book into the box to be checked. Apparently I am not allowed ANY carryon items at all.

Step Eleven: Checking the box. Takes forever even with cutting the line.

Step Twelve: Back to security checkpoint #2. I make it through this time.

Step Thirteen: Passport Control. I caused a bit of a fuss because I thought I didn't have a visa (stamp) in my passport from when I entered the country (I thought they had stamped a piece of paper that I then had to give it to someone when I went to baggage claim). Turns out it was there all along, near the back. Looks like I won't be going to Lebanon or Syria anytime soon unless I invest in new travel documents :(

FINALLY, I made it to the actual terminal around 11:45. I was starving, so I grabbed a pizza and managed to scarf it down before boarding. Then ended up sitting in the middle of a large orthodox family for the duration of the flight. Seriously, HUGE. Every time I thought I'd seen all of their kids, another random child would be like "ABBA! ABBA!". (I think they were reproducing on the plane!) They also did not have individual screens for the inflight movies, so I ended up watching most of Dear John and then falling asleep. God, I really hate Nicholas Sparks movies.

Twelve hours later I landed in New York, and spent most of my time there in customs.

Four hours later I landed in Atlanta, and went all the way to Concourse A to get me some Chic-fil-a breakfast.

Three hours after that, around twenty four hours after getting on the bus in Jaffa, I landed in Huntsville.

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Now, back in the country a month and relatively settled in Miami, I have some time to reflect.

First, the entire experience was everything I hoped for and yet nothing like I expected all at the same time. I grew a lot, and I was pretty far out of my comfort zone for a good bit of it, but it didn't stretch me as far as last summer did - probably because I had already had that trip to rip me apart and rebuild me in all of the crazy ways it did. From a spiritual standpoint, yes, it was REALLY FREAKING COOL to walk where Jesus and Abraham and Mohammed lived and died, but I was surprised to realize that I felt less of a, well, presence of God there in the holy sites than I did hiking in the shadows of the Alaska Range or wandering among the Headlands overlooking the Pacific. I guess that shouldn't be a surprise, but to me it speaks volumes.

Second, I think I am ready to travel with someone, rather than alone. Honestly, I think everyone should experience traveling alone, because you gain so much and learn a ton about yourself. These last few forays into the world have been really important to me in that I really do know now that I can survive on my own in environments and situations that are completely unlike anything I've ever known. I've done so in wilderness and urban settings, with foreign and not so foreign languages, in cultures and lifestyles that span the spectrum. It's been about independence, having my fate in my own hands, and being able to only lean on myself and God. But now that I know I can do that, it would be nice to have someone to share the experience with. Someone who's already done their own independent tour and found what they need to find in themselves.

Third, Israel is important no matter who you are or what you think about it. Jew or Arab, believer or nonbeliever, black or white, this place matters. If you look to the past, it is where history literally begins. If you look to the future, it could either become the site of the next world war or the greatest peace of all time. And in the present, it is an important part of foreign policy in nearly all developed nations around the world, holds major cultural and religious significance for people around the globe, and is a lone oasis of modernization and democracy in the greater Middle East. It is one of those places that everyone needs to see before they die.

Last, this country is much more than what it is portrayed as in the media. It is not a land where politicians make perfect decisions and can do no wrong simply because they are democratically elected, as Bush often to be the case, nor is it a land where there are two clear sides and no exceptions. Not all Israelis hate Palestinians, or vice versa. There are many on both sides who are willing to sacrifice for peace, and who strive to look beyond the centuries of violence.

Maybe part of it has to do with spending the last three years at the most diverse school in the country, but more and more I have come to realize that we are truly ONE race and see beyond our immediate classifications. We are not black, white, latino, asian, or native. We are not Jew, Muslim, Christian, Hindu, or Buddhist. We are not the rich, or the poor, or the middle class.

We are only human.

And on that note, I leave you with a song.

I traveled the banks of the River of Jordan
to find where it flows to the sea
I looked in the eyes of the cold and the hungry
and I saw I was looking at me
I wanted to know if life had a purpose
and what it all means in the end
In the silence I listened to voices inside me
and they told me again and again....

The is only one river, there is only one sea,
and it flows through you, and it flows through me
There is only one people, we are one and the same
We are all one spirit, we are all one name
We are the father, mother, daughter and son.
From the dawn of creation, we are one
We are one

Every blade of grass on the mountain
Every drop in the sea
Every cry of a newborn baby
Every prayer to be free
Every hope at the end of a rainbow
Every song ever sung
Is a part of the family of woman and man
and that means everyone

The is only one river, there is only one sea,
and it flows through you, and it flows through me
There is only one people, we are one and the same
We are all one spirit, we are all one name
We are the father, mother, daughter and son.
From the dawn of creation, we are one
WE ARE ONE