VIE Magazine March / April 2014

...HER CHECKLIST WAS VIRTUALLY STAMPED IN MY BRAIN. SCARF THAT COVERS YOUR HAIR AND NECK? CHECK. “You’re pale and practically blonde; you’ll get stopped. Your camera and your press pass won’t help you, either,” I remembered my friend Emily telling me weeks before my trip, her words playing like a broken record in my head. “Make sure they know you’re there to work for the hostel, not that you plan to photograph civil rights violations.”

My stomach filled with worry.

Emily had studied abroad in Israel and told me what I’d need and how to get through customs without a problem. Her checklist was virtually stamped in my brain. Scarf that covers your hair and neck? Check.

Respectable pants for religious sites? Check.

I scrambled for my credentials and unloaded my identification papers as I waited in a line behind a youth group on their way into the Holy Land, just like me. I was hot, exhausted, and, after multiple layovers in various nations, ready not to explore my destination but to sleep there. Ah, sleep.

After what seemed like an eon of waiting for a gaggle of giggling teens to pass through customs, it was my turn. “Ma’am!”

I had fallen asleep standing in line. As I struggled to gather my heavy belongings, I flopped up to the counter, gave the desk clerk a weary smile, and handed her my crumpled paperwork. She was not amused.