They're not buying it, Chewie

Made it in!!!
I didn't think that I would.  I got into the airport having made a few friends on the plane and was chatting with them in an attempt to look casual as I approached the passport station.  I had read somewhere that whistling people appear to be less worrisome, so I whistled a silent toon and tried to look tired but excited.
When I approached the customs person, I think that my first mistake was answering a little too pat.  On the plane, I talked to a few Israelis who all expressed a good deal of shock when finding out that I was planning on asking for a three month visa.  I was told by all of them that there really wasn't enough here to have a three day stay. I also found out that there really isn't an age limit for working on a Kabutz.  So when they asked what I would do here, I said that I wanted to start in Jerusalem and move outward to see everything, and maybe volunteer in a Kabutz if there was time.  She nodded, hit a few more keys, then asked me to go to the office "for security reasons".

When I went to the office, there were a few people of obvious Arab decent there (the women where wearing scarves) and no other white people.  I waited patiently, trying very hard to stay calm.  I felt a little better when another white woman was shown in.  She was irate, swearing under her breath.  I folded my hands and tried to look polite, feeling a little better.  I felt a lot worse when she was was told a few minutes later that she was free to go. 

All the people  I was waiting with (and a few new people) were cleared and I started to feel screwed.  An hour later, I finally noticed that one of the security men were looking at my passport.  My stomach sank when he started to key my name into a computer.  I basically gave up hope when he picked up the phone and told the listener my name.

I was called in a few minutes later, and the minute I stepped in a second man who looked like a policeman walked in behind me.  Great, I thought, they are going to arrest and deport me on the spot.  The computer guy asked me if this was my first time in Israel.  Knowing that he knew the answer anyway, I said that it wasn't.  He asked what I had done during my last trip, and before I could answer the two men started talking.  I wished that I knew Hebrew.  Mr. Computer then asked me about money, and asked to see my credit cards.  I handed them over, with a glimmer of hope.  He dashed that when he then asked me if there were any "problems" during my last trip.

In a move that probably allowed my entrance, I told him flatly that yes, there were problems, I was arrested and deported during that last trip.  Hegding my bets that his computer didn't have any details about my arrest, I said (very somewhat truthfully) that I was following "a guy I met" from Denmark.  I said that I stayed with a group of international women, and that I was arrested "for being in the wrong place".  I said that it was stupid.  I also told him that I was planning on volunteering during my stay.  I told him that I was in contact with the Red Crescent and was also hoping to work with the Israeli version of the Red Cross, and perhaps a Kabutz.  I said that I was a nurse.

He then asked me many times if I knew anyone here.  He asked if I was still in contact with the women or the man that I was "following".  I laughed a little and said no, I didn't even remember their names, I think it was Gustov or something.  I talked with a few others later who had been held, and questions about people that we knew in the area were a common theme.  Finally, I was asked to wait somewhere else.  I assumed that they were holding me so that they could get the right people to escort me out of the country.

My hopes dashed was actually a bit of a relief, as was the coke machine that was in the new place I was waiting.  I got a coke and watched some football on TV while I waited my fate.  After about another hour, a women said my name, handed me my passport, and said that I could go.

"Uh, where?"  She pointed to customs.  I opened my passport and saw a three month stamp.  It was a beautiful moment.