Får bli på engelska, eftersom jag kände för det:
After far too many hours in the sky, stuck in a crammed airplane, eating lame food, not getting any beers and neither many hours of sleep, I finally touched down in Tel Aviv at around 4.30 this morning (local time, whatever that's called).
As I've just walked out of the plane, this guy in a funny red beard, wearing a vest with something written in weird characters on it, asks me if he can ask me some questions. I, having just woken up from the aforementioned far too few hours of sleep, manage to grunt out a "sure" after which he swings into full action... first asking to see my passport, tickets, travel itinerary (spelling?), why I'm here, what I'm gonna do, what my shoe size is, why I'm wearing hiking boots and probably several thousand more questions.
Apparently he's not to amuzed with my muttered answers and asks me to follow him somewhere else. Somewhere else turns out to be next to the passport control where this Ziva David-like superagent starts asking me the exact same questions all over again. Having woken up a bit due to my mind having to think and since it was quite a walk from the plane to the nice comfy sofa where I'm now being interviewed I manage to answer more coherently.
Not that it matters to her.
Apparently she thinks it's very weird that ANYONE should come to Israel to work at a Kibbutz and believes my three pieces of plastic are waaay too little money to survive for two months in the Holy Land.
Now, I'm getting quite a bit grumpy, having not been offered any coffee and not being allowed to go back to sleep in the comfy sofa, so I actually start thinking about the answers I give her.
Very well, after a one hour interrogation she finally gives in and lets me proceed towards passport control....
Guess what?
Passport control stops me, asks me to walk with them for a bit and then proceeds to ask me THE EXACT SAME QUESTIONS.
Let's then fast forward an hour, to when I've finally found my luggage (obviously it had been removed from the luggage belt) and am let loose on Israeli soil.
My ride into Tel Aviv has just left...
So now I have to buy a new sim-card for my phone and give up all sorts of interesting information to the cute girl in the phone shop, call my rides boyfriend who calls her and we set up a meeting at the Central Busstation in Tel Aviv.
To get into that station I have to let an unknown dude rummage through all my luggage and give me a very thorough body-search, just to make sure I'm not a suicide bomber.
But done with that, things start too change for the waay better.
My ride meets me, offers me a cup of coffee (SCORE 1) and waits with me for my bus. Turns out we grew up in the same town in Sweden and I'm probably aquainted with her boyfriend (SCORE 2). Then I get to take an awesome busride through Israel and get my umpteenth surprise of the day. Turns out the entire IDF is composed of babes! 'Cause at every stop, a new babe dressed in uniform, carrying an assault rifle, comes on board.
And of course, now having arrived at the Kibbutz; I'm writing this post, sitting on my porch, seriously wondering if I should put on shorts since it is just a tad too warm for long pants.
So it all worked out in the end
After far too many hours in the sky, stuck in a crammed airplane, eating lame food, not getting any beers and neither many hours of sleep, I finally touched down in Tel Aviv at around 4.30 this morning (local time, whatever that's called).
As I've just walked out of the plane, this guy in a funny red beard, wearing a vest with something written in weird characters on it, asks me if he can ask me some questions. I, having just woken up from the aforementioned far too few hours of sleep, manage to grunt out a "sure" after which he swings into full action... first asking to see my passport, tickets, travel itinerary (spelling?), why I'm here, what I'm gonna do, what my shoe size is, why I'm wearing hiking boots and probably several thousand more questions.
Apparently he's not to amuzed with my muttered answers and asks me to follow him somewhere else. Somewhere else turns out to be next to the passport control where this Ziva David-like superagent starts asking me the exact same questions all over again. Having woken up a bit due to my mind having to think and since it was quite a walk from the plane to the nice comfy sofa where I'm now being interviewed I manage to answer more coherently.
Not that it matters to her.
Apparently she thinks it's very weird that ANYONE should come to Israel to work at a Kibbutz and believes my three pieces of plastic are waaay too little money to survive for two months in the Holy Land.
Now, I'm getting quite a bit grumpy, having not been offered any coffee and not being allowed to go back to sleep in the comfy sofa, so I actually start thinking about the answers I give her.
Very well, after a one hour interrogation she finally gives in and lets me proceed towards passport control....
Guess what?
Passport control stops me, asks me to walk with them for a bit and then proceeds to ask me THE EXACT SAME QUESTIONS.
Let's then fast forward an hour, to when I've finally found my luggage (obviously it had been removed from the luggage belt) and am let loose on Israeli soil.
My ride into Tel Aviv has just left...
So now I have to buy a new sim-card for my phone and give up all sorts of interesting information to the cute girl in the phone shop, call my rides boyfriend who calls her and we set up a meeting at the Central Busstation in Tel Aviv.
To get into that station I have to let an unknown dude rummage through all my luggage and give me a very thorough body-search, just to make sure I'm not a suicide bomber.
But done with that, things start too change for the waay better.
My ride meets me, offers me a cup of coffee (SCORE 1) and waits with me for my bus. Turns out we grew up in the same town in Sweden and I'm probably aquainted with her boyfriend (SCORE 2). Then I get to take an awesome busride through Israel and get my umpteenth surprise of the day. Turns out the entire IDF is composed of babes! 'Cause at every stop, a new babe dressed in uniform, carrying an assault rifle, comes on board.
And of course, now having arrived at the Kibbutz; I'm writing this post, sitting on my porch, seriously wondering if I should put on shorts since it is just a tad too warm for long pants.
So it all worked out in the end
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