When I was visiting Israel as a tourist, my American passport got me waived through checkpoints like a privileged elite. I could go anywhere I wanted with little or no impediment or restraint. After over 5 months of marriage to my young Palestinian husband, he finally got his papers done and his visa came and we began packing to go to my birth country.
The first hurdle was the first checkpoint. My American passport still helped me but Esam and the other Palestinians were detained for about 30 minutes. An hour later, we approached the first airport checkpoint. The car stopped and we all had to get out. Our bags were placed on a table and we were made to watch as the Israeli soldiers opened our bags and inspected them. The soldiers asked me what I was doing with this Palestinian;. I told them I was married to him. They made snide remarks about that and began rifling through the suitcase. They took my tampons out and opened one in front of me and asked what it was. The smirks on their faces were awful; I was very embarrassed because I was not used to anyone making reference to any menstrual products openly in that way and they were jeering at me.
After making rude remarks about the sexual performance of my husband, they gave us our suitcases back and we got in the car and proceeded to the terminal security.
In the terminal, the security opened our bags, ate some of the Arabic sweets we had packed to give to family in New York, and asked us all kinds of questions. One of them asked me why I married a boy with a little dick when I could have had a man. I was mortified. I didn't know what to say. They dragged out my underwear and laughed. They messed up the whole suitcase in their search.
The men took Esam away and took me to a small booth where two Israeli women frisked me and asked me why I was married to him. I was getting scared then; terrified they wouldn't let us board the plane home. They began asking me all sorts of questions. Did he promise me money? Did he kidnap me? Did his family force me to marry him? When I answered no to all of these they then told me he only married me for my money and to get to America. They also asked why I married him instead of a good American? When I said I loved him they laughed at me and said "How can you love him, he is a boy? He can't be good for you in bed." I wanted the floor to swallow me up at that point.
They finally let me go and I was taken back to our bags. Esam joined me after a few more minutes. We were allowed to close our bags and check them. Then we finally boarded the flight. I was sort of in shock still. While we were buckling in, Esam told me they strip searched him and he asked if they had done the same to me. I told him how they questioned me and frisked me. The humiliation was not something I had ever experienced in my life. I realized just how sheltered my life had been and how his life had been oppressed from the time he was born. I felt violated; those people had deliberately wanted to hurt me and I was not used to that kind of abuse at the hands of people in those kinds of positions. I had always felt protected by security; now I just felt dirty, afraid, and small. The thought came to me that my new husband grew up with that kind of demoralizing humiliation. He experienced it on a regular basis; all Palestinians lived marginalized lives under occupation.
As the plane lifted off, I was both glad and deeply sad to be leaving. A part of my heart and soul were always going to be in the Old City and the Village of Jaba'a. I was not looking forward to returning home because for me, my birth country didn't really feel like home. My young husband was embarking on his first journey away from his homeland; away from his family and everything familiar. He would be in a new culture, a new country, and in a new life. I wondered if he would like my country; he was so eager to begin his new life there. We held hands a lot during the flight; two very young and inexperienced lovers beginning a new life.
The first hurdle was the first checkpoint. My American passport still helped me but Esam and the other Palestinians were detained for about 30 minutes. An hour later, we approached the first airport checkpoint. The car stopped and we all had to get out. Our bags were placed on a table and we were made to watch as the Israeli soldiers opened our bags and inspected them. The soldiers asked me what I was doing with this Palestinian;. I told them I was married to him. They made snide remarks about that and began rifling through the suitcase. They took my tampons out and opened one in front of me and asked what it was. The smirks on their faces were awful; I was very embarrassed because I was not used to anyone making reference to any menstrual products openly in that way and they were jeering at me.
After making rude remarks about the sexual performance of my husband, they gave us our suitcases back and we got in the car and proceeded to the terminal security.
In the terminal, the security opened our bags, ate some of the Arabic sweets we had packed to give to family in New York, and asked us all kinds of questions. One of them asked me why I married a boy with a little dick when I could have had a man. I was mortified. I didn't know what to say. They dragged out my underwear and laughed. They messed up the whole suitcase in their search.
The men took Esam away and took me to a small booth where two Israeli women frisked me and asked me why I was married to him. I was getting scared then; terrified they wouldn't let us board the plane home. They began asking me all sorts of questions. Did he promise me money? Did he kidnap me? Did his family force me to marry him? When I answered no to all of these they then told me he only married me for my money and to get to America. They also asked why I married him instead of a good American? When I said I loved him they laughed at me and said "How can you love him, he is a boy? He can't be good for you in bed." I wanted the floor to swallow me up at that point.
They finally let me go and I was taken back to our bags. Esam joined me after a few more minutes. We were allowed to close our bags and check them. Then we finally boarded the flight. I was sort of in shock still. While we were buckling in, Esam told me they strip searched him and he asked if they had done the same to me. I told him how they questioned me and frisked me. The humiliation was not something I had ever experienced in my life. I realized just how sheltered my life had been and how his life had been oppressed from the time he was born. I felt violated; those people had deliberately wanted to hurt me and I was not used to that kind of abuse at the hands of people in those kinds of positions. I had always felt protected by security; now I just felt dirty, afraid, and small. The thought came to me that my new husband grew up with that kind of demoralizing humiliation. He experienced it on a regular basis; all Palestinians lived marginalized lives under occupation.
As the plane lifted off, I was both glad and deeply sad to be leaving. A part of my heart and soul were always going to be in the Old City and the Village of Jaba'a. I was not looking forward to returning home because for me, my birth country didn't really feel like home. My young husband was embarking on his first journey away from his homeland; away from his family and everything familiar. He would be in a new culture, a new country, and in a new life. I wondered if he would like my country; he was so eager to begin his new life there. We held hands a lot during the flight; two very young and inexperienced lovers beginning a new life.
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