Arriving to Nablus

The twelve hour stop over in Frankfurt was long but after a roam of the city I made it back to the airport exhausted, not ready to take the daunting trip to Tel Aviv. I expected mulitple questions and hassle from IDF security because I didn't have either my ticket out of Israel booked or the certificate of acceptance to the University in Jerusalem for July. As I passed the separate security entrance specially set up for Tel Aviv, my heart skipped a beat expecting the sensors to pick up the multiple USB chips I was carrying for the Project Hope centre. As I stood with beeds of sweat and a suspicious look on my face, something to the effect of a constipated child I had a vision of the security hauling me into some back room. Nothing, no sensor, no search and no questions but I just knew there would be securty with holding rooms on the other side. I arrived in Tel Aviv at 3:20am, groggy after travelling for almost 48 hours straight but luckily enough again there were no questions as to where my travel documents were either. They just asked the reason for the visit and with the reply of "travel" nothing more was said and my passport was stamped. As I didn't want to run the risk of being questioned, I didn't ask for a separate piece of paper to be stamped, grabbed my passport and high tailed it to the other side to grab my luggage. Ofcourse things are not that easy, there was a final sensor where guards randomly check your baggage but this too was a breeze, I sailed forward eyes straight eagerly looking for my driver. Before leaving Canada, I asked a couple of friends from Palestine if they knew of someone that could pick me up at such a late time and take me to Ramallah and even possibly know anyone who could also take me to the other side of the checkpoint to Nablus. They said not to worry and set me up with a funny Palestinian from Ramallah, able to pick me up in the wee hours of the morning and set up the other driver from Rammallah to Nablus. The picture I had in my head of the West Bank at this time was that a checkpoint was the sole destination of entry between the Israeli and Palestinian communities. As a tipicaly unaware Westerner I was shocked to find that not only are there about six checkpoints between TelAviv to Nablus but that they exist right the way through Palestinian territory. Early morning being an optimal time, both drivers rolled through every single checkpoint with only a glance towards our cars. Either it was dark and and my head was slightly covered because of the cold and they assumed I was Palestinian, sitting in the front next to the driver OR they were all too tired to give a shit. Probably the second but I was just glad to roll my way into Palestine. As my newly formed friend Amy from California would say "That's how we roll!!". While stopped in Ramallah, my first driver took me into a small falafel place close to his house to wait for the other driver. The guy setting up asked where I was from and with the anwer of Canada he quickly made some Arabic coffee for us, sat down and ranted about the differences between Canada and the US. I could tell that after he had lived in the US for 10 years, he was not too impressed. He said that if he were ever to leave his home for some reason, it would be to Canada, despite the cold. Almost an hour later, the other driver skreetched up to the front and I knew it was time for the next half of the 2 hour journey. By now the bright orange sun was creeping up over the hills, sun light hitting the sides of the beautiful white stone houses in the valleys. I was suprized to find Israeli flags tagged everywhere; looking up to the sun, there they were attached high to posts staggered along the roads winding in and out of the West Bank. How rude! Amongst a four thousand year old community already forced to participate in this random checking of personal space and invasion of privacy, they have to be reminded constantly of the dominance of an already overbearing foeign government. Pulling up to old city centre, I was lucky enough to cathc it with not a sole and vibrant sunlight filling the streets. I arrived to Al Yasmeen hotel awaiting Project Hope; a three hour event with more coffee and many cups of tea. The three guys working at the hotel all hade lots of wonderful things to say about Project Hope and the many internationals they encounter while staying at the hotel. As I hopped out of my chair to take photographs, I couldn't help but notice the bullet holes cracked through the beautiful stained glass. This was soo symbolic for my first few hours in Nablus, such beauty framented by holes from the barrel of a gun.