Date:   3/30/2006 8:19:20 AM ( 18 y ago)
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URL:   https://www.curezone.org/forums/fm.asp?i=525207

P.A.P: The Princess and the Wall Part 1
January 19th, 2006

Once upon a time there was a princess who couldn't get anywhere because the Israelis (with help from their good buddies the USA) built a big ugly wall trapping her in soulless Ramallah. The only way the princess could escape to get to her 22 year old Prince Charming was by getting past the evil warlock (AKA Svete the angry short-haired lesbian soldier who hates me because I won't play along and fulfill her Palestinian-Israeli Abu Gharib fantasy) blocking the gate (AKA Kalandia checkpoint). And so begins the tale of The Princess and the Wall.

Part 1- The Long Journey Khome

It all began on December 12 at 10:30 PM, on break from comedying I popped about 15 Tylenol PM's chased it with some Nyquil (kids don't try this at home) and hopped on the 12 hour Continental flight from Newark to Palestine (for some reason they kept saying we were bound for Israel on the intercom. I still can't figure out why). I read the Fatiha closed my eyes all set to wake up in Palestine. That's when the lovely Israeli man sitting behind me decided it would be the perfect time to remind me of the hell I was about to face in Ben Gurion Airport by torturing me and making sure I arrived completely sleep deprived. How? Apparently our little friend seated directly behind me was VERY religious. I know this because he prayed all night long which would have been totally fine if it didn't include him banging the little black box tied to his head (with all respect for other religions)against the back of my seat for the entire flight. It was like a twelve hour bumper car ride.

By the time we landed, I was freakin' delirious which is the perfect state to meet your executioner, I mean interrogator. I waited for my chariot (AKA my wheelchair, remember I'm doped up do to my fear of flying and my fear of female Israeli border patrol performing a body cavity search on me) to take me through customs. The Israeli pushing me was named Guy which I got a huge kick out of (Reminder: I'm a bit goofy from the Nyquil cocktail). I kept screaming at anyone we whizzed past in my chariot, "Hey checkout this Guy!" Continental has a little rule I love by the way; which states wheelchair Guy must stay with me til I get into my taxi singing, "Wain 3a Ramallah!" I turned to Guy as we reached passport control and said, "You ready Guy? Cause it's going to be a looooooooooooong night." Guy looked utterly confused. "No,no it'll be veghry queek." Ha ha ha. I said, "Check it out, Guy. I'm Palestinian."At this point Guy began to weep openly cause he knew it was going to be a long night or because he realized he'd been lusting for an Arab.

The women at passport control seemed to be illiterate because even though my passport was in her hands with my name printed clearly on it, she still insisted on asking me not once but twice, what my name was. Next came the grope session. First, I had to go through a metal detector twice apparently because my underwire bra kept setting it off. So, I had to take it off and be patted down by a hefty, greasy, pasty, too tight pants wearing Israeli chick who just kept saying sorry which really did nothing to turn me on. Second there was bag search. Bag search is always fun because they only search Arabs so you're bound to bump into someone you know and are quite possibly related to (FYI all Palestinians are cousins). After the meet and greet bag search gets stressful because the Israelis have sticky fingers. You have to watch their every move even if you are drugged or they will take your stuff. One time they stole all my socks. Yes, people, I swear on my cat, they stole my socks. Once they had screwed up everything in my nicely packed bag and removed the operating system off my laptop (they get 10 points for originality) I advanced to the final level of the "Get Out of the Airport with a Valid Visa Game" (rated A for Arab): THE INTERROGATION. This is my favorite part. The trick is to figure out the right (but not necessarily true) answer to the same questions asked 15 different ways. For my entertainment they threw in a good cop/bad cop team of interrogators. It was like Law&Order on crack.

Four hours later a haggard Guy and I emerged. He shoved my wheelchair at break neck speed toward Rami my loyal Jerusalem driver who was dead asleep in the waiting area. As I slammed into Rami he woke up gave me Arabi kisses and said dead seriously, "Wow! That was quick." And off we went to begin our journey to the next stop Kalandia Checkpoint. To be continued.....Inshaallah........Yallah Bye!




 

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