How I worshipped Satan in the Holy Land

I hate borders. This is not new. I still think fondly of the good old times when a man like Ibn Battuta could roam the Middle East without borders and passport, just a letter of recommendation in hand. Nowadays, he would never make it 50 miles from home. Borders and walls never stopped any terrorist anyways.

Here's a little experience I had a few days ago. Pay attention if you plan on traveling the Middle East. My plan was to go from Amman, Jordan to Sinai, Egypt, and to save money by not using a plane.

Aqaba is right next to the city of Eilat in Israel, and Taba in Egypt. There are boats that go directly from Aqaba to Egypt, to Taba or Nuweiba.

The trouble is, nobody in Aqaba knows when and where those boats leave. So, I missed it and took the road. This shouldn't be a problem, since I am a European citizen and don't need a visa to go to Israel.

The Taxi from Aqaba to the border takes about 5 minutes. Crossing Eilat in Israel, border to border is about 10 minutes. So, there I went.

I arrived at the border at 1 pm, carefully asking the Jordanian officer to stamp my exit on a separate sheet of paper, not on my passport, in case I wanted to go to Syria or Lebanon.

5 minutes later, I walked the 100m no man's land between Jordan and Israel, till I reached the Israeli flags.

There was nobody else crossing. The woman on duty took my passport and called her superior, from intelligence security services. The grilling started.

"What is your nationality ?

- French, as you can see on my passport" I was still smiling.

- Where does your name come from ?

- France

- It is not a French name

- Yes it is. Define 'French'. Good luck, it's been an ongong debate in my country for more than 2 hundred years...

- ... What? You know what I'm talking about
- I certainly do not. Please be specific. At an administrative level, being French means I hold a French passport, which I do. At a philosophical level, being French means to want to live in a certain culture, which I do too. We happen to be a diverse nation, with blonds, brunettes, tall, short, etc. So, again, please be specific and I would be very interested if you could define, in your opinion, what constitutes a "French".
- Er... Very well, what is your religion ?"

At that point, I was already starting to boil. I considered this last question an unrequested invasion of my privacy that had nothing to do with my entering or not in Israel. I told her so.

"Sir, this is a security check. I can ask whatever I want" she said.... Or can she ? I know that even in Israel there are law, I'm pretty sure of that, and an officer can't just do what she wants...

She repeated the question again. Again, I refused to answer.

"With all due respect, officer, this is really none of your business.

- If you do not cooperate, this will take longer.

- OK, officer, I'll tell you, since you insist. But you may not like it. I actually worship SATAN. We satanists have a special ritual: we listen to Death Metal on saturdays, stand on one foot, raise our hands to our ears and move them around, while jumping in rythm, see, like that. Then we engage in orgies until the morning..."

- ...
- Oh but wait! Wait!...
I raised my hands to my head and closed my eyes
- What is happening to me?... I... I... I feel I'm about to convert. Yes! I just converted to being a Buddhist. Ok, scratch that religion line from before: I'm a Buddhist now. Let's hurry, I'm not sure how long it'll last.

Like all people with limited wits and unlimited powers, she did not have a sense of humour and did not appreciate. At all.

- What is your email ?

- As you know, my email is private correspondence and has nothing to do with passport check. (I ended up giving her a bogus email)

Further questioning, about the religion of my parents, grandparents, etc. At one point, I saw myself staying there for a very, very long time, arguing my unalterable secular point of view. The sun was declining so to save time I confirmed that one of my ancestors (one of my great grandfathers) was Jewish, hence the name.

"So you're Jewish

-No. Pay attention. As I just told you. One of my beloved great grandfathers was. I happen to have been conceived through the help and intermission of about 7 other greatgrandparents, 4 grandparents and two parents, oddly enough. And I'm a Buddhist. Three of my grandparents were catholics, why is there just one grandparent that counts? Or does it mean I'm 1/4th of a Jew, 3/4th of a Catholic, even though I just converted to Buddhism before your eyes? Should I see 3/4th of a mass and then read 1/4th of Talmud?

- So you're ashamed of your Jewish ancestors ?

- Actually I'm very proud of all of my family, and especially of my Jewish Grandfather. You do know, of course that according to Jewish rules, since my mother is not Jewish I can't claim to be Jewish? Or did I just break the news to you? It's kind of a big deal.
- ... But you dais your grandfather is jewish.
- (sigh) Yeah
- So if you're Jewish, why didn't you immigrate into Israel ?"

- Oh Lord..."

I was just bewildered. She was serious. Angry, actually.

"Er... Maybe because I'm French. I'm fine thank you."

Flipping through my passport...

"Why do you visit so many Arab countries ?

- Why not ?

- I ask the questions. Why do you visit Arab countries ?

- Because I love to travel.

- Do you speak Arabic ?

- I am learning.

- Why do you want to learn Arabic ?

- Because I value new knowledge

- But why go to those countries ?

- Because I like it

- Why do you like it ?"

I was getting bored. I talked about the pyramids, culture, poetry, tourism, language, people... anything to finish this silly interview.

"So why don't you visit Israel more instead ?

- You mean since you are so welcoming?".

Flipping again... "So why did you go to Afghanistan, Iraq, and Sudan ?

- It was my job, as an aid worker"

Somehow, it did not compute for her. I was a new species. A Klingon. So I patiently started explaining, but I still did not make sense in her world. She was getting more and more confused and frustrated.

"Did you visit Israel before ?

- Yes

She typed on her computer. My file came up. "You went to GAZA ?!"

That was on an old passport, but they keep all the records.

"Yes. As a French citizen, with people of my Embassy I went to Gaza"

That was it. The proof I was up to no good.

They proceeded to unpack everything I had. EVERYTHING. The vitamins in a box were analyzed one by one. They chemically analyzed my shampoo, toothpaste, and every speck of dust on my personal items (for which they use a special swab), for explosives. Then I was kindly asked to strip in front of a male officer who applied some kind of detector to the area dearest to the future of my descendants.

When, surprisingly, they didn't find any bomb in my crotch, neither of course anything wrong with my passport, she was obviously even more frustrated.

"So you live in Amman ? Do you have friends there ? Arabs and Palestinians ?

- Of course

- What is their name ? What is their job ? Give me their names and telephone numbers.

- I will do no such thing. You can't bother my friends to check on me from Israel, because if you call them, they won't be my friends any more. Tell you what: if you want to contact someone in Amman, to check on me, call my Ambassador, here's the number of my Embassy. Then you may have a slight diplomatic situation, denying entry to a tourist from a friendly country with a valid passport.

- ..."

She disappeared with my passport. I was left there waiting for 4 more hours, knowing that the border closes at 8pm. I complained to an officer several times, until I got to speak to the guy in charge.

"Sir, this is standard procedure. If you are not happy you won't make it into the country.

- Fine. I'm not crossing any more. I'm going back to Jordan.

- You can't. We hold your passport. You have to wait till we decide what to do with you."

At approximately 7pm, the frustrated woman reappeared, she gave my passport to the immigration desk.

I decided to change tactics with the new officer, a blonde young woman, and tried my charm... "So... finally I get to cross ! Please put the stamp on a separate paper. Can I go now ?

- What is your religion ?

- Ma'am, I already answered all that with your colleague !!! I'm an ex-Satanist, newfound Buddhist, ok ? I'm thinking of converting to Zoroastrian soon.

- She is Intelligence. I am Police. Not the same service. I can ask you the questions I want"

OK, I thought. This is groundhog day. I've got to get the hell outta here.

"Look. The name's Jewish, OK ? I'm a happy French citizen who does not want to immigrate. According to your own definition of Jewish, I'm not Jewish because my mother is not Jewish. Nobody's perfect, y'know ?"

She looked up at me and smiled. Finally !

The "shortcut" took me over 6 hours. 6 hours to cross 5 kilometers, because of a non-intelligent Intelligence officer. She poked her nose into everything: my email addresses, my bank accounts, my job, my way of life, hell, every single thing was incomprehensible to her world. And she's supposed to see travellers all day.

Back to my trip. The Taba border, in Egypt, took me about 5 minutes. A look to check that my passport was genuine, that I had the right visa, a smile from a jovial officer, and "Ahlan wa Sahlan, welcome to Egypt. Enjoy your stay Sir"

No comment.

--

To make a long story short, if your name is not "suspicious", if you did not visit "strange" countries like Gaza, and if you divulge a certain number of personal facts, like the telephone number of your Palestinian friends, crossing the border should take no longer than 15 min.

Why, oh why, is it so hard to cross these few miles when on paper they all allow European citizens to come and go ? Winston, can you erase back those borders ?