Strip-searched in Tel Aviv

I want to clarify one thing before we start: I wasn't technically strip-searched. They allowed me to keep my boxer shorts on.

Trey and I wake up early at 4:15am for the our tour to Petra. (Petra is one of the wonders of the ancient world, outside of Amman Jordan. My highest goal on this trip is to see Petra). Our flight is at 6:30am and we're right by the airport, but we want to allow plenty of time for any unforeseen delays.

We get to the airport in plenty of time, only to realize the first setback, and our most serious one: We're at the wrong airport. It turns out that Tel Aviv has two airports, Ben Gurion airport and Sev Dot airport. The tour company didn't explain this to us, they just said that the flight departed from Tel Aviv airport. We think the other airport is nearby, though, so we rush outside and take a taxi.

We get to Sev Dot airport. We should still be able to make the flight, we think we have enough time. This airport is small, it looks more like a county airport in the US. It only serves domestic flights from Tel Aviv to Eliat, about once every 45 minutes. We encounter a delay of course at the security screening and X-ray scanner to get into the airport, but we get past that and head to the check-in counter. They tell Trey that everyone has to go through second level security screening before checking in. "Don't worry," the check-in person tells us, "you'll still be able to make your flight."

This is the point when things start going very wrong. Something about us makes them think that we're a terrorist threat. I'm do not know the cause, and they would not tell me later. Maybe it is because we are late, and because we tell the security person that we still have time to make the flight. Maybe it is because we are two foreign men traveling without any women. Maybe it is because I haven't shaved in 3 or 4 days and I look like a swarthy terrorist.

The security person tells us "No, you're not going to make your flight." Mind you, she doesn't yet know what flight we're on. She doesn't know what time our flight leaves. She doesn't know if they might hold the flight for us. But she is confident that whatever flights we're on, we're not going to make it.

I say "That's OK, we'll try and see if we make it. If we don't make our flight, maybe they have a later flight that we can get on." I'm not sure why, but she's discouraging us from having her evaluate us for security. She's discouraging us from waiting to see if we can make the flight. She tells me flatly, "You're not going to make this flight, and today is Sunday, a busy day. The other flights are probably fully booked. You're not going to get on any flight today. You should just go home."

I'm a little confused. I've never had a security person tell me before that they don't want to screen me, that I should just turn around and go home. The way she's saying it isn't even a suggestion, as if she were trying to be nice and save me hassle. Her tone of voice is more a command, as if she's afraid of me and just wants me to leave.

It takes me a few minutes to coax her into even giving us the security screening. "I realize it may take a while," I say, "and I realize we may not get on this flight or a later flight today. But I want to try. One way or another I want to try get to Petra."

And so the actual security screening begins. She separates Trey and me, telling Trey to sit far away out of listening range. She doesn't go through my belongings, she just asks me questions. "Where are you from? How long have you been in Israel? Where have you been?" She goes on with hundreds of questions, many of them repeated multiple times. She never actually looks through my bags, but she does make me show her pictures of where we've been in Israel; she wants to know where we stayed in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, who we talked to.

I need to admit at this point that my answers to this level of questions must have seemed suspicious. I answered her questions honestly, since I knew she will be double-checking the answers with Trey, but the honest answers are complicated. I don't have a printout of the itinerary, since it is e-ticket. We were traveling with two other guys, Josh and Jeff, but they aren't with us now because they didn't want to go to Petra. They are still at the hotel in Tel Aviv. Yes, we did meet someone else in Israel, the girl Jenna who went with us on an impromptu tour of Masada and the dead sea. No, Trey and I are not coming back together: He is returning to Tel Aviv later that day, I am going to continue on from Petra to Amman Jordan. No, I don't have an itinerary for that: I am planning to break off from the tour and take a taxi from Petra to Amman. "Why is your return flight from Tel Aviv if you are leaving them and going to Amman?" I will come back from Amman to Tel Aviv in a few days, and catch a flight from Tel Aviv to Athens, and then onto the US. "Where is your flight from Amman back to Tel Aviv?" I don't have a flight; I am planning to go overland and go through one of the border crossings.

The questioning goes on for quite a while, I won't bore you with all the details. Finally she tells me to go sit down and Trey to come up for questioning, so she can ask him the same questions and see if his answers match.

Now begins the second phase of advanced security screening. In the first phase they ask you a barrage of questions: Who you are, where you've been, why you doing this. They purposefully ask you intrusive questions about your life, to see how you respond. In this second phase, though, they do the opposite. They don't ask you anything, and they don't do anything. They have me sit in one place, and Trey sit in another. They don't look through our bags, which are sitting over by the security area. They help other people; They chat with each other; They take care of other things. The purpose of this phase is to see how you react when you're just sitting and waiting. This let this phase take about 15 minutes. We are patient and we don't ask how long it will take, otherwise they might extend it even longer.

Thus begins phase three: The call us back up, then take us and our belongings, walk us outside, and take us to a different building. It's a small, non-descript building. They put two plastic chairs outside for Trey and me. They put our things inside and make us wait for a few minutes. The have a guard stand near us outside. He's not dressed in a uniform, he is one of the private commandos they use at the checkpoints near the airport. The guys in military garb are usually young, around 20, and are there to provide visible security, to deter. These guys, though, are about 30 or 35, and they look like they'd be a fair match for Matt Damon in the Bourne Identity.

The call me and Trey in separately, multiple times each. They have me take everything out of my pockets. They go through my things with me and ask me questions about them. They use a hand wand-type metal detector, then they do a very slow, careful, private pat-down, like a doctor doing an anatomy review. They have me pull my pants down so they can check again. As I said at the top, it wasn't technically a strip-search: They let me keep my boxer shorts on.

Trey got annoyed about having to take his pants down. He refuses at first and they call one of the supervisors back again. Trey says, "I'm done, I'm not pulling my pants down. I'm just going home." Her response is "You can't refuse now, we gave you the chance to go home before. Now you have to do it." Trey starts asking if they get many American terrorists here in Israel.

Despite all this, they are very nice and professional the whole time. When I took everything out of my pockets that includes money and all other personal items, and they already have my passport. In many countries I would have refuse to leave my money there while I went into a separate room, but I know it would be here when I return. And it is still there when I return. They also let Trey use his cell phone at one point to call the tour company and ask about the tour.

After about two hours they decide that we have passed, mostly. It is too late for Trey to make his flight so he goes back to the Tel Aviv hotel. There is one seat on a flight that is leaving very soon, so they suddenly tell me that they need to rush me through to get on that flight. They tell me to put the things back into my suitcase, with a few exceptions: My laptop will go in the backpack, but nothing else in there. My cell phone has to go in my suitcase, I cannot carry it. I cannot carry on the backpack, nor the suitcase which was carry-on size. They will both be checked luggage instead. They put the laptop battery for some reason into a large white padded envelope and then put that envelope in a separate small duffel bag, and the laptop charging cord they put in it's own white padded envelope and into it's own separate small duffel bag. I now had four pieces of checked luggage: My backpack and (formerly) carry-on suitcase, plus two small duffel bags. They take out a few other items, though, like my camera, Kindle, electric razor and charging cords for each of those and hold those items separate. Those items they still need to check further, but I will be going on this flight. Those items will be sent on the next flight, and I would need to wait in Eliat for an extra hour or longer until they got arrive.

And then they rush me back to the main airport building, past security, out onto the tarmac and onto the plane.