Dervla Murphy - Between river and sea : encounters in Israel and Palestine

On the evening of 4 November 2008, I boarded my night flight to Tel Aviv as Barack Obama was being elected the first mixed-race President of the United States. All around me sat vocally Democratic young Americans, too excited to sleep, on their way to work with West Bank Palestinians. Such volunteers, known collectively as Internationals, may be of any age and are unpopular in Israel. Some undertake to protect schoolchildren from the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) or illegal settlers; and over the years a few have been killed and several seriously injured.

When we landed at 3.40 a.m., squeals of frustration filled the cabin; the Internationals cell phones, so eagerly switched on, had failed to connect. But they didnt have long to wait; as we trooped into the vast Immigration Hall elevated TV screens were showing Barack Obama in victory mode. His devotees cheered and laughed and hugged each other: some even wept for joy. Most of the other passengers remained resolutely uninterested.

Its said that Israeli officials are inconsistent when interpreting rules and regulations. Before choosing an immigration queue I studied the four women officers in their bullet-proof kiosks. Two were young, attractive and apparently amiable, their colleagues were dourly middle-aged with an evident penchant for complications. In the queue on my left stood six Haredim long bushy beards matching long ear-locks, wide-brimmed black hats and long black coats mentally anchoring them in some nineteenth-century shtetl. All carried the maximum of hand-luggage yet their clothes and shoes were shabby. Behind me a young Californian whispered, See how poor they are? They wont work. Youll notice some begging at traffic lights! These government-subsidised ultra-Orthodox exasperate their tax-paying fellow-citizens. I wondered how the sextet would deal with female officials. Their Halacha (collected religious rules) forbids them to listen to women singing and their sacred ). As they neared a kiosk one sack was replaced by a man and the group at once exchanged their advantageous position for the end of his long queue.

Israel craves tourists but prefers them to arrive tidily packaged with pious or frivolous destinations: the Holy Places or beaches and discos. Solitary foreigners arouse suspicion and when my turn came the dialogue went like this:

Why you visit Israel? For a holiday. Which your group? Im travelling alone. Who meet you outside? No one. You know who in Israel? No one. Tonight you stay where? In Jaffa. Where else you go? I dont know yet, I dont plan ahead. You have occupation, job, work? I write books. Books what about? About travels in different countries.