#hate high school. hate american high school. hate that x-ray scanners for bags are something that have to be in schools

[buck-yyyy]

god i fucking hate high school

[esthersnippe]

What it is like to be a level 6 security threat at Israel’s Ben Gurion Airport

Ben Gurion has one of the most intense airport securities in the world. 

Forget the American TSA, or Cuba exit check—this is the most insane security checks in the world.

Now, I only found this out after going through it, and googling “What the fuck is up with Ben Gurion Airport’s security?” (I read one or two stories that were milder or on par than mine, and one or two that were much more intense.) 

Turns out that it actually a pretty well-known thing. 

Luckily, just by chance, I arrived at the airport 3 hours before my flight, and thank god— because the majority of that was going to be spent waiting, and being searched, waiting, and being questioned, and waiting to get through to my departure gate. (Plus a touch of feeling humiliated for good measure.) 

I arrived in the Arrivals Hall, and after a topsy-turvy wander about, I found the Departure Hall. 

I printed out my ticket and made my way to the carry-on security check.

There were three lines, I saw the one was moving at a decent pace. So I stood for a good 30 minutes only to get to the front, where the security agent asked me where my sticker was. 

I told her I had no idea what she was talking about. 

She told me I had to go back to the front of the Departures Hall and pass the first stage of security.

A little pissed at the confusing nature of this, I stalked out of the line, and searched for the “First Security Checkpoint”.

Finally, I found it (turns out there was a sign for “Security check for carryon-only passengers” that I had missed.) 

Security check for carryon-only passengers: Round One

There was no one in the line, so I automatically stood at the front of the line

 “Excuse ma’am, that is not the entrance.”

“Sorry?” 

“You have to go back and around to the entrance.” 

“I don’t understand what you are trying to tell me.” 

“You have to pass through that woman first,” 

He said this pointing to a woman 10-12 meters away. 

I rolled my eyes and walked to her. 

She glanced at my passport and ticket and waved me through. 

Security check for carryon-only passengers: Round Two

I went and stood back to where I had been standing a minute ago, and he waved me forward.  Three other people would make the same mistake of just rocking up to the front: he was just as short with all of them sending them to see the other lady first.

He asked me some of the standard fodder airport security questions like “Why are you travelling?” “How long did you stay?” “What do you do for work?” But then some stranger questions were mixed in.

“Do you speak Hebrew?”

“No.”

“None? Not even a few words?”

“No.”

“Not even a bit in school?”

Wtf.

“No.”

“Tell me what you were doing in Lebanon. Where did you go and who did you meet?”

I answered carefully and honestly.

“So, you were Couchsurfing. What were the first and last names of all your hosts?” “Did you meet their families?” “Friends?” “What do they do for work?” “He was in logistics? What kinds of things was he shipping?” “Did you have correspondence with them before you arrived in Beirut? “ “For how many weeks?” “Have you kept in contact with them while you were here?” “When was the last message you sent them?” “What was that message about?”

“Please tell me the first and last names of everyone you stayed with here in Israel.” “How long did you stay with each person?” “Where did they live?” “Did they give you any gifts?” “Are you still talking to them?” “Do you have a copy of the correspondence you had with them?”

He asked me if anyone had given me anything, or if I thought anyone might have put something in my bag, multiple times. I told him he was free to check—and he chuckled and said “That will happen later.” I immediately was filled with contempt for him.

Security check for carryon-only passengers: Round Three

He called his supervisor over, and they chatted for 3-4 minutes. He started to walk toward me, then turned around and walked back to her. Another 2-3 minute chat before he handed her my passport. She was a pleasant young woman who told me to stand in front of her on the other side of the desk. She asked me many of the same questions over again, repeating the question about whether I had been given anything twice.

Finally, she slapped a sticker on my passport. And I was told I could go. I waiting in the security line again for an additional 20 minutes.

Later, I would find out that the sticker was an assessment of my risk factor. 

1 and 2 are reserved for Israeli passport holders, 3 and 4 are seen as a mild risk, 5 is a high risk, and 6 is an extremely high risk.

When internationals fly alone out of Israel, they get a “6” or a “5”. This number is a sticker you get on your passport and bags that helps the Israeli airport security evaluate your level of Zionism. “1” is awesome, “6” is you’re fucked. 1 is reserved for white Jewish Israelis, 2 is for white Jewish non-Israelis and friendly internationals, 3 is a suspicious Israeli or international, 4 is sometimes given to non-white Israelis, 5 is for Arab Israelis or questionable internationals, and 6 is for Palestinians, Muslims, and hostile internationals. Hostile is defined as not Zionist or suspected of questioning Zionism. Anything above a 3 means interrogation. Of course these are my definitions based on the people I’ve talked to who’ve gotten one of the six. I don’t know what the official language they use says. -Lia Tarachansky (read her full article here.) 

Guess who got the sticker with the 6? 

Funny thing is that I didn’t feel hostile towards Israel in the slightest until this episode. 

You wait. And wait. And wait. 

When I finally got to the front of the carry on luggage and metal detector line, the security woman said: “You are in the wrong place. You need to go through the special security.” “What? Are you joking? I have literally been waiting for hour already to get through.” “Yes. Ok. Follow that woman there.” I followed her, and she took me to the packed line of about 40 people. “Are you kidding?” I have already been waiting an hour,” I huffed. But she didn’t reply, merely shooting a glance in my direction.

She led me to another two women, where I waited to have my name written on a clipboard. I asked what was going on, and she told me not to stress out, that someone would come for me soon. No one did. 

Streams of people went passed me in the line, and I had no idea what was going on.

And then you wait some more

“Come on. I have been waiting here for ages, can someone please explain what is going on?,” I complained 

“Yes, there are still 12 people ahead of you, but I will come to get you when it is time. That’s why you are standing here.” 

After a good 20 minutes, she told me to cut the line. The man who I was instructed to stand in front of got pissed, and tried to worm his way ahead of me. “Excuse me, sir. I was told to stand here.” I actually began to start feeling sick.

Finally, I got up to the front. Two security agents glanced at my passport, but no one talked to me. Finally, not seeing another option I just stuck my things into the X-ray scanner. A young security agent came up to me “Who are you with?”  “I don’t understand.” “Which agent are you with?” “What do you mean?” “You have to wait until one of the agents comes for you and your things.” He took my things out of the machine and put them back in front of me.  I stood there for 10 minutes, while people streamed past me.

I actually felt myself start to tremble with rage. This was absolutely ridiculous. I stopped one of the security agents and begged her to just explain to me what was going on. 

She brushed me off and told me I had to wait. 

Another 5 minutes, and 4 other people went ahead of me.

The Bag Check

Finally, a sour young women came up and without a greeting demanded I pack my things and follow her. We walked to another side of the security area. “Sit down over there.” She commanded.

She proceeded to empty every single thing out of my bag.

Every single thing out of my cosmetics bag. Every receipt. Flipped through all the pages of my books. Sent my laptop and iPhone away with another security agent. When she came across a pack of cigarettes, she demanded to know where my lighter was. “Probably in a pocket” I snapped back. 

“I don’t see it.” 

I was enraged, all my personal belonging, clothes, condoms, mascara, panties, books, and papers were spread out in front of her, and as if this wasn’t enough, she was now demanding a lighter. 

“Check my jacket” 

She pulled out all my bank and credit cards from my pockets, headphones, and opened up my lipgloss to check inside. 

Finally, she found it, and without a word, tossed it in the garbage.

Explosives Trace Detection (ETD) tests: Swabbing for drugs or bombs or who the fuck knows.

Then she started swabbing everything. 

Not a customary swipe—no, she swabbed every single piece of clothing, every pocket, every charger, my curling iron, my nightie. Checking each swab on her detector.

It took ages, and I felt a deep hate for her growing watching her finger and handle all my little things. 

“Follow me,” She said, “we need to do a body scan.” 

Another security agent came up, and they talked. 

Finally, she told me to take off my shoes. I guess just having my shoes taken was pretty lucky, in light of what I read online afterwards. 

In addition to being forced to undress for body searches, Arab passengers are often detained in secure rooms in the departure area at Ben Gudrion Airport before their flights and escorted on to planes by security staff in full view of other passengers. They may also have their hand luggage confiscated. -Jonathan Cook, “Israel's strip searches at airports 'illegal', Aljazeera

The body scan and multiple pat downs

 “Sit there and wait” she snapped—I was seriously losing my cool with this horrendous procedure and this woman in particular.

I waited another 10 minutes, barefoot, on the grungy security room floor. Feeling downright disgusted. 

“We need to scan you” she took me to a body scanner, where I was told to stand, “Open your legs wider.” she demanded, and I retorted “What the fuck. They are wider than the footprint-guides already.” I snapped. 

“Fine. Then lift up your arms and don’t put them down until I tell you to.” I stood there like a criminal getting a mug shot.

When I came out she patted down my arms and legs. 

Then we waited. She talked to someone on her radio, then told me I had to remove my necklace. 

I wanted to scream, but with dead eyes stared ahead as I carefully removed it. 

I went back into the machine and they scanned me a second time. 

When I came out, the colleague was back with my shoes, this time, she patted me down, spending extra time under my arms, on my back, and sleeves.

I went to grab my shoes, and the sour security agent said “Don’t touch those. Go back and sit down.”

I lost it with her tone, and said “You are acting in a disgusting way. I am just a traveller and don’t deserve to be treated like this.” 

She rolled her eyes at me and repeated that I needed to stay seated.

About 10 minutes later, the man came back with my laptop and mobile phone. They had an extensive conversation and she giggled. Oh. Hell. No. 

I was not going to sit there and watch this bullshit while they just made me wait.  I stood up and with contained rage “That’s enough. Are you done?” 

And she repeated that I was to sit down and wait. 

Losing all hope, I sat back down.

Finally, she said, “You can take your shoes.” 

I snatched them and pulled them on. I don’t even know how long I was sitting there because I didn’t have a mobile.

Finally, she had another quick word on her radio, and started to walk away. 

Over her shoulder, she said “We are done here. You can leave.” As I started to repack my bag, I thought “No we aren’t, you f*** b***.”

I asked to speak to the supervisor, and when she came she asked me specifically why I was upset, and what the security agent had done that was inappropriate. 

I explained about her tone, but more importantly that I felt I was being treated as a criminal which was unfounded and disgusting. 

All I had wanted to do was visit their nice country, and this had been such an awful experience that I wasn’t sure I would ever want to come back. 

She gave me an email address and asked me to share my experience. 

I thanked her, but felt tears burning in the back of my eyes. 

I felt so violated, so disrespected. I had done absolutely nothing wrong, and yet was being treated as if I was one second away from blowing up their whole damn airport. 

I grabbed my bag and left for my gate, promising myself I would never fly through Tel Aviv again.

Even hours after getting off the plane at my next destination, I still felt disgusted. Actually—I still do. It really changed my view of the Israeil state. 

My story here is not unique, many seasoned travellers have had similar accounts. I think it is important to share and read these, so that if you ever go to Israel, you know the risks. Read some of their stories and other articles here: 

What it means to go to Ben Gurion airport with an Arab friend

My Horrific Security Experience at Tel Aviv Ben Gurion Airport (TLV)

Israel's strip searches at airports 'illegal'

Leaving Tel Aviv: My Experience Through Airport Security at Ben Gurion

Airport Security Woes – My Experience Leaving Israel