Barefoot

Ugh. Eleven hours from Zababdeh to Amman. Ugh.

The problems began when I boarded the Palestinian bus in Jericho. There, Palestinians are separated from their luggage. After a document check by the Palestinian Authority, the bus enters into the Israeli-controlled border crossing. Most of the way, I was treated to the same treatment Palestinians receive. Nothing particularly remarkable, just noticeably more inefficient than the treatment the non-Arab section receives.

Exiting Israeli border security, though, I was transferred to the "tourist" (i.e. non-Arab) bus. My luggage was still with the Palestinian luggage, but I was promised everything would be fine. In a word, it wasn't.

Palestinians, before leaving the Israeli side of the Jordan River, identify their bags and move them to another bus, which meets them after they cross through Jordanian security. Since I was on the "tourist" bus, I ended up in Jordan with my bags back in the West Bank. Five hours later, let's just say I was happy to see my bags again.

Bureacracy's fun, ain't it?