Friday, April 8, 2011

Crossing Borders – Jordan to Israel

I have done a few tricky border crossings, but the anarchy that awaits me on this one must rate right up there.

I take the Service Taxi from Sports City (JD5) for the 50 minute ride up to King Hussein Bridge. All well and good. However there are no signs other than Arabic ones as i wonder round aimlessly trying to find the “Foreign” immigration office.

After 10 minutes i find a cramped office with some 80 odd GAP students from a diverse background (predominantly American, Chinese, Spanish and French) with three people working the counters. It’s complete mayhem. After half an hour one of the three officials come out from behind the glass counter and demands everyone sit down. I take this opportunity to shoulder my way in to the Departure tax counter where a lackadaisical woman official issues me with two stamps for JD8. I then find myself in the front of the Immigration Officer to collect my Departure stamp, but he then refuses to return my passport to me. He tells me to board a bus outside and the driver will return my passport to me in 10 minutes. I look on dubiously, and reiterate that i am an independent traveller, not a GAP student, but he refuses point blank and orders me onto the bus.

I explain the situation to the bus driver who agrees to take me (it’s forbidden to walk across the bridge anyways) and sells me an official ticket (JD3 per person and JD1,25 per bag) and i wait. And wait and wait. An hour passes by and i’m anxious for the return of my passport. The bus is now full to breaking point, before the Immigration Officer finally comes onto the bus with a few passports. None of which is mine. He asks if everyone now has their passports and three quarters of the passengers respond negatively. He disappears for 10 minutes, returning with a few more passports. The German woman adjacent to me throws a wobbly and i’m sweating like Usain Bolt’s armpits. It finally shows up on the third attempt.

The bus trundles slowly across just to be faced by an absurd amount of people queuing to enter Israel. Many of the GAP students (the American ones) are refused entry and plead desperately in front of me.

I finally get to the front of an attractive young Israeli immigration officer and i’m prepared for trouble.Two pages of my passport are clearly stamped by Sudanese immigration; relationships between the two countries are well dodgy and i am told this is reason enough to refuse entry. However i have two uncles who are Israeli citizens (one of which is a judge) and i have had the foresight to collect their mobile numbers to hand. The officer looks at my variety of African stamps in my passport and asks about my journey. She points to a few visas and asks me what countries they are from. She then points to one of my Sudan stamps and asks which country it is from? “Ethiopia” i immediately respond and she continues her perusal.

When the officer asks the purpose of my visit i am able to play my trump card. “Visiting relatives for Passover” and suddenly she is all excited. “You’re Jewish?” “Absolutely” i lie and suddenly she is all smiles. “Maybe you want to live here? Do you speak Hebrew?”

I deny all knowledge of the language and tell her i have a teaching job waiting for me in August. I am now in a position to ask her not to stamp my passport – an Israeli stamp inside will prohibit me entry into almost all Islamic countries. She wants to know why, so i refer her to my passport and remind her i travel the world.

“No problem Sir” and she gives me a separate piece of paper.

The whole process from the Jordanian immigration to their counterparts on the Israeli side has taken some three and a half hours. My relief at the end is immense.

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