Visa Issues and Jerusalem

On Tuesday I was given the unhappy news that it was not only the interview that I will have to have to extend my visa that is difficult - it is also difficult to get the appointment for the said interview. Why? The Ministry that deals with visa issues is swamped with such applications - which is made even worse because the said Ministry is only open from 8am to midday Sunday to Thursday. I was given a phone number to call, which I duly did - dozens of times! The only answer you get is a pre-recorded voice speaking in Hebrew that talks at you for about a minute before hanging up. Helpful..

One other student here is in the same position as me - a man from Texas. The difference is that he was not told he had only a one month visa - he had to find that out for himself, which he fortunately did (as he was leafing through his passport). Through our conversation we established that we must have had the same interrogator at the airport, and as we seem to be the only ones with one month visas we decided that this particular customs officer was just a cranky sort of guy who enjoys making things difficult.

This other student also had no luck with the phone numbers and so had gone to Jeruslem soon after arrival to make an appointment in person. It was difficult for him, no one wanted to help and they kept telling him to call the number, so he pulled out his phone in front of them and stood there calling the number over and over, finally they relented and gave him an appointment - set down for three weeks later. This worried me because if I could only get an appointment in three weeks time, that would be after my visa had expired. So I made a decision - I would go to Jerusalem in person as soon as possible.

I decided that this would be possible on Wednesday, as all I needed to do was register at university in the morning and then I could go straight into the Ministry. No such luck - delays, a checkpoint, and after-school traffic meant that I arrived at the Minsitry just after closing. Actually, according to Palestinian time they should have still been open, but Israel is still in daylight saving time and so is an hour ahead (Palestine had ended daylight saving early due to Ramadan). As I stood at the doorway of the Ministry I made another decision - I would spend the night in Jerusalem and go to the Ministry at 8am before returning to Birzeit University to take my classes, which would begin that day. So, I found a hostel, booked a bed in a dormitory and went in search of some food. I also tried to contact some of the other students who stayed with me at my dormitory in Ramallah to let them know what I was doing. Unfortunately, my Jawwal sim card (a Palestinian provider) did not work in Israeli areas - another mundane example of how politics affects day to day living. But I had a back-up in the form of my Australian sim card and managed to message someone.

I had never been to the Israeli sections of Jeruslem - only the Old City, which is part of East Jerusalem, the Palestinian side (though still controlled by Israel). The hostel I chose was very close to the Ministry just next to the trendy Zion Square (a name that left a lot to be desired). It was actually very beautiful there - restaurants, cafes, trees and many places to sit. There were also a number of cats, which seem to rule Jerusalem - they are everywhere! I even found an Israeli market where I bought some peaches. It was different from Ramallah's markets: it was cleaner, quieter and with more room to move. Though it was also less colourful and vibrant.

After filling my belly with my first Israeli style falafel (I prefer Ramallah's, though I may have just been unlucky with my choice of falafel stand here), I sat in Zion Square and observed. I have two snapshots, both concerning the soldiers.

The First: My Fear and Their Laughter

An army van drove up into the Square and some soldiers got out: armed and in uniform. My body immediately reacted and I looked around to the locals for signals of what I should do, but nobody did anything, they just continued eating, talking and reading their newspapers. I chided myself, remembering that here that army van did not represent the occupier, but the protector – and why would you need to run from or be wary of your protector? So I remained in my seat and continued to watch. Three young people (teenagers or young adults) cried out playfully in Hebrew and began to walk towards the soldiers. One of the soldiers (a young man) yelled a reply before detaching himself from his fellows and swaggering dramatically to the group. Just before they came together he did a kind of pirouette, to popular applause from his friends, and they all laughed and slapped each other on the back before heading off together. All the time the young soldier carried his large weapon over his shoulder – no one seemed to give it the slightest attention.

The Second: The Mall

Further up, Zion Square becomes a mall with several flashy shops – sort of like an upmarket Pitt St Mall (for those from Sydney) or Queen Street Mall (for those from Brisbane). I had just bought a juice and was sitting opposite a man wearing a kippah who had take off his shoes to read the newspaper. Two girls walked up the mall. They were walking casually, laughing and gossiping. They looked to be teenagers – young faces – and if it were Australia I would guess that they were high school students (or perhaps first year university students) who had just finished their classes and were now just wasting time window shopping. Their hair was done up fashionably and one of them was wearing tight clothing of the latest fashion (with those high leather boots you see everywhere). The other was wearing army green and held her gun casually slung across her shoulder. The juxtaposition between their looks and actions and that uniform and gun was dramatic for me. But then, I had stood on the wrong side of such a weapon before and was wary.

It was nice in the hostel, though I received some odd looks as all I had on me was my day bag – no change of clothes, no toiletries and no hiking bag! I met a New Zealander who had been spending time on a Kibbutz, an American doing a religious pilgrimage and a girl from South America who was struggling through the arduous process of converting to Judaism. I was not open with them about what I was doing there, but I listened to their stories and smiled at their jokes. When I raised the issue of the Palestinian Territories they expressed sympathy but offered no criticism of Israeli policies.

The next day I arrived early for the Ministry but already there was a queue outside. It took several minutes to get us all through the security checks but I eventually managed to enter the rabbit warren of staircases, hallways and queues. But I was at an advantage – the Texan student who had already been here had given me clear directions. So, while I may have spent an age trying to find the right office (which was well hidden and poorly signed), I reached it quickly. Perhaps it was because I was there so early, or perhaps I just got lucky, but the administration there had no problem giving me an appointment. Though the first date they gave me was two days after my visa is to expire, so I explained this and they gave me another – two days before my visa will expire. So within ten minutes of being in the Ministry I had my appointment. I also had a lot of time before I needed to be back at Birzeit, so I took the time to explore the Old City and also get a coffee.

I would like to give a description of the Old City and the dynamic there that results from the close proximity of Jews, Muslims and Christians, but this will have to wait for another time. Suffice to say there are metal detectors and bag searches to go through to get to the Western Wall, soldiers to be questioned by to get to the al-Aqsa Mosque and only two seated and drowsy police to walk past on your way into the Church of Holy Sepulcher.

Finally I returned to the West Bank, attended my classes (which were thoroughly enjoyable!) and went back home tired, dirty but satisfied that at least that part of the visa challenge was over.