Oops Wrong Stamp
Not much to talk about over the last few days, so I thought I'd give you a run down on the process of getting out of Gaza.
I wrote about the procedure for getting in last time I posted about Gaza. Pretty straight forward and you'd probably expect crossing any land boarder. A quick stop at passport control (see pic); maybe a few questions on your visit (though you usually don't get these when leaving a country); head through a security barrier to a no-man's land and proceed to the other side of the crossing where you go through passport control, security and customs (well no customs in this case).
All pretty standard - straight forward right. Well, that's getting into Gaza. Getting out (ie getting back into Israel as there's no other option for leaving Gaza) is a different story. Paranoia doesn't come close to describing this process.
You start by going through the usual exit type process on the Gaza side, only it's a demountable shed rather than a proper terminal. Then you head across no-man's land (about 500m) to eventually get to the wall. The wall is a 12m high cement barrier and bristles with razor wire and CCTV cameras, punctuated by the odd observation tower and heavy gun turret. At the crossing, the wall is punctured by 4 heavy metal doors. You have to waltz up to them and just wait until someone notices your presence on one of the CCTV cameras, or until they are ready to let you through.
Usually, this only takes a minute or two, however, on the day we were there, we waited here for about an hour. There are no explanations or estimated waiting times or anything. You just wait... and wait, until eventually one of the doors magically opens, at which point you can proceed to the next stage (well really the first stage) of the crossing. Luckily the initial gate is under an awning, so you don't have to bake in the blistering sun. I think we had to wait when we were coming through last time because we could (thankfully only) hear someone further along the wall was taking pot shots - hopefully at rabbits.
When you get through the gate, you put your bags on a table, open them, and point them towards another CCTV. I'm not really sure what this step achieves, or how you would know what to do if you weren't crossing with a seasoned veteran. Again, there is no "customer service" representative to tell you what to do.
You then walk down a covered walkway to the main terminal and another series of doors. On the way, you pass some toilets, so it's advisable to make use of them, because the timing of the next bit is very unpredictable. From this point on, your adventures are determined by a series of red and green lights and arrows. Each door or security turnstile is equipped with stop and go lights.
When the light goes green, the doors open and you're in the terminal proper. The building feels a bit like an airplane hanger - a cavernous hall with aircon ducts and red sprinkler pipes crisscrossing the distant curved roof. The feeling of space is not echoed by the cattle yard feel to the series of doors and gates ahead. There's a row of windows high up on the opposite wall from where the security personnel can watch your progress through the cattle run. At least it's cool inside.
The first stop is the bag x-ray machine. You have to empty all your electrical gear into the plastic tubs and make sure they are all separated. If anything is left in your bag, then it gets spat back out of x-ray and has to be dug out before the bag goes back in. Here, after over an hour, is where we make the first human contact. There is a little man who puts your stuff on a conveyor belt and presses a big green button that sends your belongings into the machine. This guy has the patients of a saint.
Despite your best efforts to clear your bags of any electrical equipment, and the little man's efforts to place the bag in the optimal position, every bag seems to get spat back out four or five times, regardless. The procedure goes something like this: Bag goes in. Bag comes out, forcing the little man to pull the next bags back off the conveyor. Someone barks an order over an intercom and the little man repositions the bag. Bag goes in. Bag comes out, and the little man once again repositions the bag - maybe on it's side this time, maybe at 45 degrees, maybe with a flap open rather than closed. Bag goes in...bag comes out... etc. etc.
The same happens with the plastic bin full of electrical devices. It goes in, it comes out, the man rearranges the items. It goes in, it comes out, you shake it all about. Do the hokey x-ray pokey... My bin of electrical devices was rejected because it seems someone didn't know what a transformer for a Mac laptop was. This involved the bin coming back out, the little man being asked to take the offending power cable to a nearby CCTV and show it at various angles, before being asked to ask me what it was. They mystery of the sleek looking, quality consumer product was eventually solved and my stuff finally went through. At this point you lose your bags for a bit as they disappear into another part of the terminal. Once the bags are through, you have to wait for the little green light on the next gate.
You go through a door into another waiting area that is only about 3m across. When the light goes green, you enter the next stage which consists of two consecutive chest height doors. Like half an air lock, or holding pen. Again, you wait in here until the light goes green and you proceed to superman stage.
Once green, you go through into the x-ray machine area. Apparently these are the ducks guts of x-ray machines. None of that Mickey Mouse metal detection stuff here thanks very much. This is one of those Superman style x-ray vision machines you may have recently heard civil libertarians getting worked up about - no such worries here! You enter the machine, which is small round glass room, stand on the designated foot pads and assume the superman flying position. Well, three quarter superman position in my case, owing to the lack of headroom. The thing looks a bit like this pic which was taken from the web, since no photos are allowed in the terminal of course - oh and your camera has disappeared along with all your other electronics. The machine whirs and spins around you for a bit and then you get the green light to proceed.
At this point, a colleague has received the red arrow instead, which apparently involves heading to another area for 'further treatment'. This involves taking your shirt and trousers off and sending them through another x-ray machine - one at a time. I'm not sure why you need to x-ray the clothes seperately if you've just been through the superman x-ray. A cynic might thing they are just on a humiliation exercise. Anyway, after the gear is x-rayed, its back into another fully body x-ray machine, only this time you have to perform the Saturday Night Fever stance. "Ah, ah, ahhh, stayin' alive, stayin' alive...". For some reason, our colleague always seems to get this treatment. Luckily we missed it. Maybe the security people know I'm a Travolter fan.
After a while, your bags are returned. Sometimes it comes out on a baggage carrousel, and sometimes security guys bring them out. The problem is you don't know which it will be, and the the two options lie on either side of a one way security turnstile! Shez has had to get let back in to collect her bags before. No dramas this time though. Now it's time for the security men to check your luggage by hand. Neat clothes folders need not apply.
Two hours down. Now it's off to the last stage - passport control. They save the best to last.
Passport control isn't a big issue as long as you haven't been to any dodgy (aka Muslim) countries. Luckily for me, I don't have any problematic stamps so it's pretty quick. Just a few questions like "why are you coming to Israel"... "err well, because it's the only way out dummy", or something slightly more diplomatic.
However, if for example, you were an aid worker who happened to have worked in Sudan, then you'd probably take anything from 2 to 5 hours to get through this part. Over that time, you might be asked probing questions like "what's your father's name", or "what's your grandfather's name" several times - highly significant stuff. Mostly you are just made to wait until they either get bored or want to go home. If you were traveling with such a person, then you might have to sit and wait on one side for a couple of hours while the other person sits on the other side. It's a good idea to bring a book. As you can see from the first pic in the post, there is a "comfortable" waiting area outside of passport control.
Then you're through, and it's off to get an overpriced private taxi to get away.
Now, lets assume that all these steps are necessary procedure and people are just doing their job. Well, part of the issue is that they are barely even doing their job. The terminal is hardly busy, but each step seems to require someone going on break as you arrive, you waiting for them to amble back from their break, them to slowly perform whatever task it is they are doing and then let you through just in time for the next person to go on break! When we came through the other day, we literally woke the immigration woman up, who then decided she needed a 20 minute break before eventually coming back to process us! If you were cynical, you might think that it's all mind games to frustrate the aid effort.
Now, getting back to the wrong stamp issue. If you were an aid worker who happened to have a Sudan stamp, and a Somaliland stamp, then you would always seem to have trouble getting through border crossings. The least time you would probably be made to wait would be 1 hour at a relatively remote crossing from Jordan. The longest you would be made to wait would be 5 hours crossing back from Gaza. Every time you cross, you would have to explain that you are an aid worker and that yes, you did work in those places, AS AN AID WORKER! Then a supervisor would be called, then a phone call made, and you'd have to sit down and wait. All this despite crossing the boarder regularly and not having been to Sudan at all since last year.
Paranoid? No way!
