My entrance into the Orient, a heat wave and stripping for peace.

Welcome to my blog, the place where I will be writing about the random things I think about, experience and choose to do. Primarily though, I'll be documenting my quest as a recent graduate (BA) to find meaningful work.

For those of you who don't know me well, I graduated from the Department of Peace Studies at the University of Bradford a year ago, after which I became the Student Liaison for a year. With my contract over I spent a few weeks living on my Uncle's couch in Amsterdam, after which I packed my bag and hopped on a plane to Tel Aviv. Here my quest for work will begin in earnest.

I hopped on a flight to Bucharest at about 2pm yesterday, where I hung around for about two hours before catching my plane to Tel Aviv. Arriving at Tel Aviv is always a laugh, and I was expecting a welcome party to be there for me when I arrived. Sure enough, after disembarking from the plane I rushed over to passport control in a naive attempt to beat the queue. Four other flights had arrived in the last ten minutes and it was busy. I waited in line for about 20 minutes, and just as I neared my goal I was picked out of the queue. "Follow me please, sir." I followed the man with the slicked back hair, and gave him my passport. "Please don't stamp my passport" I stammered, but couldn't be sure he heard me. After being told to sit in a small room I waited for about 30 minutes, and the first interrogation began. Nothing unusual so far, as I was asked where I was going, what I did for a living, why I didn't want my passport stamped, why I'd been to Lebanon and Syria and Kenya and what this stamp was. The man seemed to get bored, and I got my paper stamped. Excited and elated I walked past the ever lengthening queue and wondered if I'd actually managed to get through controls in under an hour!

The Israeli authorities soon proved me wrong though, and at the next check I was picked out again. Time for interrogation number two. The same questions again, this time by two men with stylish sunglasses. "Take your glasses off, sir" was followed by an intense examination of my facial features. Then more questions. Eventually I was allowed to go get my bag, "but come right back here." They kept my passport, so I grabbed my duffel bag, and headed back to see if I could reclaim it. "We won't be long, but please come this way" was the next command, and I followed.

My guide, still holding my passport hostage, set off at a brisk pace swiping open doors here and there, with me stumbling under the weight of my bag, until I arrived into another dreaded interrogation room. This one had ample space for a thorough examination of all my personal possessions. I slumped down into a chair, and prepared for the worst. My passport was handed over to my new interrogators, the group of five. Two women instantly set out to search my bags, taking everything out and throwing them in boxes. One of the men took my passport and went into the back. Two other men asked me to follow them into a small room and closed a curtain behind me. I knew what was expected, and sure enough "Undress, but keep your underwear on." I duly stripped down to my boxers and was thoroughly patted and prodded with a number of metal detectors after which every inch of me was examined with gloved hands. There's nothing quite like being frisked by a man in white gloves while you're standing in nothing but your boxers and another man in sunglasses stands guard.

A little later I emerged from the curtained room to find the women sitting on one of the benches, surrounded by my stuff chatting and laughing in Hebrew. They didn't seem to be in any rush, so I figured I'd do the same. I sat down, put my headphones in, and ignored the lot. Having landed at 10.30, it was now just gone 12.30. Eventually my four guards decided to continue in their quest to find illicit goods, choose a few random possessions of mine to put through the scanner and tossed the rest into a second box. I put the Doors on and nodded my head to the music. 15 minutes later my stuff was scattered around a number of benches, but they seemed satisfied that it was all safe. The passport man resurfaced and began questioning me again. Interrogation number three. The questions were almost identical, and I could answer some of them before he finished his sentence. Eventually he seemed bored too, and my passport was returned to me. "Pack up, you need to leave" he said, and so I unceremoniously stuffed everything back into my bag and followed my captor out the door as he lead me to freedom. As I was about to leave the gates he called me back. "Next time you arrive in Tel Aviv alone, wear a cross. Or a kippah. It is better to be a pilgrim." My dad was waiting, we walked to the car and headed to Jerusalem. Once again, Ben Gurion airport managed to give me a fantastic welcome.

I woke up this morning at about 8am and it was already 35 degrees. It's 12.30 now, and it's reached 40. There's a heatwave going on, and it'll take me a while to get used to it. Tomorrow I head to Amman, Jordan where I will be based for a while. I've reworked my CV so many times over the last month, but have just thought of an entirely new format.

Music: Satta Dread Dub by King Tubby.

Book: Kaplan GRE Exam 2010-2011 Premier with CD-Rom. Fun stuff.