Second try: success! And an Arabic lesson from an American Jew

Left: the drink the guy on the bus was laughing hysterically about. The other side has the Arabic, it's spelled the same way I spell my name.


12/30

Checked out early to try the bus to el-Arish again. Same time, 4:30, 30 LE. Somehow I sat one row in front of an Asian guy, I think he was Japanese, without even noticing. I heard him speaking English after a few minutes and realized I was once again violating the first rule of human rights work.

Got to the first checkpoint at 6:45 (times from memory, on why see below). They took the Asian guy and the Arab guy sitting next to him off the bus, I assume they were here for the Gaza Freedom March. Again, the soldiers didn’t ask for my passport, and that British guy was nowhere to be seen, so we continued on.

Got to the second checkpoint at 7:25. A uniformed soldier got on the back and asked for everyone’s IDs. I pretended not to understand him, so he repeated himself, and I got my passport out, thinking “Damn it, back to Cairo.” In the most Hollywood moment I’ve ever experienced, just as I was handing the guy my passport someone outside the bus yelled something, he withdrew his hand as his fingers were closing down on the document, yelled “meshee!” (I think it’s the equivalent of “okay”) and walked off the bus. I’m glad I delayed every second I could. I don’t know exactly where the second checkpoint was, but right after it we went over the “Mubarak Peace Bridge”.

Got to the third checkpoint around 8:30. Again, they asked for everyone’s ID, this time the guy was in plainclothes. I opened my passport to the visa page and he just looked at it confused, flipped through the pages and found my picture, and then handed it back to me. It reminded me of being in Hebron.

Got to the fourth checkpoint, right on the outskirts of el-Arish, and they again asked for everyone’s ID. Again, the guy was in plainclothes. I showed him my passport and he asked me to get off the bus. “Damn it, now I’m really going back to Cairo!” I thought. I quickly deleted the diary I’d been keeping in my iPhone Notes app. Every time I’d passed a checkpoint I’d noted the time and described what had happened. I didn’t want them thinking I’m a spy of some kind. Paranoid perhaps, but better than getting thrown into an Egyptian military prison.

Nobody at the outpost spoke enough English to communicate with, they just kept saying “tourist?” And I kept saying “no, student.” I don’t know why I didn’t just say yes I’m a tourist, but I figured there’s no point in getting arrested for lying. Plus I said I was here for the purposes of study when I landed. Since little information was being exchanged I said, “Shouf” (look), and handed them the letter from Harvard that I’d had translated. Never again will I say Harvard’s name isn’t worth anything.

The guy who had taken me off the bus found two other people to read the letter with, and when they figured out what it said the guy called someone on his cell phone, which I thought was hilarious. No pretense that this military checkpoint is for military purposes, otherwise you’d obviously want a secure connection to whatever base you’re calling.

I think they kept me at the checkpoint for about an hour, nobody was ever rude or aggressive. During that time I met a Jordanian in his early twenties who studies engineering at Sinai University in el-Arish (as far as I could gather; again he didn’t speak a word of English, which I thought was odd for an educated Jordanian engineer) and an old man whom I couldn’t communicate with at all. I find it much more difficult to understand people over forty when they speak Arabic for some reason, maybe they don’t even try to dumb it down for me?

I sat around smoking with the soldiers, who laughed at my every attempt at Arabic, it was quite enjoyable aside from the surrounding circumstances. After about an hour, they said “please, you go Arish” and sent me on my way. They flagged a taxi down for me, told the driver to go to Sinai Sun where I told them I’m staying, and sent me off.

One thing I noticed: there’s no pretense that, because they took me (or anyone else) off the bus they should accommodate me in getting to el-Arish. For the old man going to Arish, they flagged down the next vehicle that went by, a supply truck of some kind, and just told the driver to take him to el-Arish. For the engineering student, they flagged down a flatbed truck that he then had to jump in the back of (it must have been absolutely freezing to drive the ten or so miles we were from Sinai University, which looks really nice from the outside). For me, they flagged down a taxi, assuming I had the money to pay for it. I wonder what would have happened if the old man or the student had been given the taxi instead. How would they pay for it? Maybe the student could afford to but I really doubt the old man could. Dynamics of a police state, I guess.

Got to Sinai Sun. It’s exactly how it was described on the Internet: a “quirky three-star”. The bathroom has a small open sewage pit, my eyes burn just being in the room, for some reason there’s a refrigerator in my room that’s bigger than the closet, the TV is smaller than my laptop, the pillow feels like it’s made out of boxing gloves, the blanket feels like it’s made of sandpaper, only one of the outlets in the room works, and there’s a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. None of the surfaces have been cleaned in quite some time judging from the thick dust layer. But, it costs 50 LE per night, which is less than the hostel in Cairo cost, so I can’t complain. The taxi driver drove past two luxury beach resorts, he pointed them both out. I recognized their names, can’t remember them now, and I said “ah, mazbood?” (“are they good?”, or my best approximation). He goes “aiwa. Fyave stare”, meaning “five star”. Then he started clapping for some reason, it was pretty funny. I asked “Sinai Star?” And he goes “eh, nos nos.” It literally means “half and half”, but I think he was trying to say it’s kind of crappy.

I was exhausted at the end of the trip across the Sinai, I wanted to go to Rafah in the morning since I figured my luck was on a role, but it was a little too much. I’ll try going tomorrow early in the morning, even though it’s Friday (the Arab weekend is usually the end of Friday and Saturday). Hopefully it’ll work, otherwise I’ll just come back here and extend my stay by two days, then try again on Sunday.

Oh so close… Looking forward to seeing the beach tomorrow, even though it’s fairly cold here. I need some Vodafone minutes too. I think Mom and Dad tried to call yesterday while I was on the bus but I didn’t want to be conspicuous by yelling into the phone in English “NO, I’M NOT IN GAZA YET! CAN YOU HEAR ME??”, so I didn’t pick up.

And the Arabic lesson: apparently Egyptians won't understand "anna mbkeesh arabi" because that's Palestinian Arabic. According to Matt Cassel, I should be saying "anna btkalam arabi". Ugghhhh...