in which i get detained by EL AL airlines

My experience with EL AL on Monday was, in a word, awful. The flight itself was fine. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m sort of a pro when it comes to long flights. However, I felt far less than welcomed into Israel and that feeling is lasting much longer than I would like it to. A large part of that has to do with the entirely unnecessary and redundant security measures I had to endure because, from what I can infer, I am something of a threat to Israeli security according to EL AL. (Disclaimer: I really am not a threat to anyone’s security, honest.)

So I arrived at Terminal 4 of JFK at 3PM, three hours early for my 6PM flight to Tel Aviv. My mother wanted to make sure I got through security, as did my dad, so they accompanied me into the building. I walked up to the EL AL desk, to be met by a relatively stern looking woman standing behind a music stand. She did not greet me or tell me what to do. I started to fumble, which was probably my first mistake. It was only after a couple minutes of my patent awkwardness that she gave me a direction: “I need to see your passport.”

I showed her my passport, and the questioning began, only to continue for the next fifteen minutes. “Where are you going in Israel? How long will you be there for? Do you know anyone in the country?” I told her the truth: “I am going to visit my boyfriend for a week in a village called Neve Shalom.” But that response garnered a whole new set of questions including, “How long have you known your boyfriend? What is his name? What is he doing in Israel?” Then I mentioned that I would be going to India for the semester after my week in Israel, which made her ask how I was able to take the time off from my studies to visit my boyfriend.

She suspiciously eyed my baggage, too. As I've mentioned, I’m going to India for a semester after this week in Israel, and my program was very strict about the kind of baggage I was supposed to bring. The directives from SIT were simple: Pack light and pack in a backpack. Then the security woman then stunned me with her frankness. “We’re very concerned about bombs. That seems like a light bag for four months travel. Do you have any sharp items in your bag?” At this point, I was shaking, entirely convinced that I was not going to be allowed on the flight. I should point out that these fears were entirely irrational since I am not an international criminal and was not – and am not – harboring any dangerous substances. (Seriously. Check my pockets.) She finally was satisfied with my answers and escorted me to the ticketing booth and handed me a boarding pass. I thought I was free to get on my merry way, but she then took all of my bags – including my carry-ons – and told me to meet her at security in an hour.

I don’t know what I would have done if my parents hadn’t been with me. We sat for an hour drinking coffee at the Au Bon Pain downstairs, and we talked about what had just happened. They shook their heads, saying they had never seen such intense questioning and none of us could figure out why I was singled out.

When we returned to the security counter, I was told to say good-bye to my parents because I would have to be escorted through JFK. Apparently, I’m such a security threat that I need my own personal escort from EL AL Airlines to make it through JFK and onto an airplane. My mother was, in a word, outraged. But we said good-bye and I was taken into a back room of the airport.

Fortunately, I wasn’t alone. There was another man with me. He wasn’t much older than me, maybe in his mid-twenties. His name was Michael McSomething-or-Other, and he was a gallery manager for an Israeli artist. We sat in this back room, unsure of the protocol. I will say that EL AL has an interesting taste in DVDs. In the waiting area, there was a television mounted to the wall with a choice of three videos to enjoy while they check your belongings and test you for explosives residue – Elvis: Number One Hits, The Beatles: Number One Hits and (my personal favorite) The Hits of Queen. I debated putting this last video on but decided against it, trying to decide what kind of message I would be sending by watching Freddy Mercury dance.

Shockingly (and I say that with the utmost sarcasm), neither of us were harboring dangerous materials and our iPhones weren’t secretly weapons of mass destruction. But the fun didn’t end there! In order to ensure that our bags were completely secure, we had to be escorted through TSA security by another EL AL employee. That, I will admit, was sort of bomb. (Pun intended.) We skipped not only the general boarding line but also the first class line. Michael and I were not allowed to stop at any of the stores, because then our luggage would no longer be secure. Our escort did, however, kindly offer to take us to the duty-free shop to give us the opportunity to buy some perfume or cigarettes. Neither of us took him up on that offer.

We waited at the gate with a different EL AL representative and then we were shuffled onto the plane before any other passengers by yet another airline employee. I even got on the plane before an ancient woman in a wheelchair, which just doesn’t seem right since I’m only 20 and have full usage of my limbs.

After I was finally seated, I started to rummage through my carry-ons and realized how thoroughly the airline’s security had gone through my bags. My prescription medications were in a different pocket, and my laptop and camera chargers were out of their neatly packed bag, only to be tangled up with my iPhone and camera cords. I began to panic because I couldn’t find the Flip camera that Tufts lent me, only to realize that it was in a totally different bag.

This all happened before I even arrived in Israel itself. I won’t even go into the questioning I got at Israeli immigration or the fact that my luggage was completely unlocked and entirely unpacked, presumably by EL AL security, when I got it at the baggage carousel.

I wish I knew why the airline had the right to so intensely question me in the first place. Is there a law that makes this kind of treatment by an airline permissible? Did I happen to unknowingly check a box when I bought my plane ticket that gave my consent to have all of my belongings picked through one by one? More importantly, why were Michael and I picked out of the entire flight? I will say that the only trait that Michael and I had in common was that we had no cultural ties to Israel. I just happen to be dating a Jewish boy, and Michael just happens to work for an Israeli artist.

I’m not trying to call discrimination here, but there was something supremely uncomfortable about being pulled out of the line. I am in Israel now, and I feel like I need to be constantly on guard. That is a shame, especially since I was so excited to come here for the first time. I wanted to be a participant in the culture, but with this kind of treatment, it’s hard not to feel like a complete outsider. In fact, it’s challenging to motivate myself to truly learn about what this country has to offer when I have this resentment about not being of the culture, of feeling discriminated against for something I have no control over. How can a country or a culture hope to engender goodwill abroad when it acts so warily toward foreigners?

But maybe it’s just a lingering paranoia from this disturbing airline experience (especially since the airline’s motto proudly proclaims, “It’s not an airline, it’s Israel"). I will say that I’m not looking forward to going back to Ben Gurion Airport. Something tells me that Israeli security won’t be nearly as accommodating as those in New York.