For Palestinians, going into and out of Palestine is not the most pleasant experience. It involves preparing the endless number of IDs and passports depending on what kind of Palestinian you are (living in Jordan, living in Palestine, living in Palestine with a Jordanian passport, and other categories I do not understand and even people categorized under them do not know why they are categorized as that)
After you make sure you have everything and that all your documents are not expired, you have to go through a countless number of checkpoints with a high probability of being insulted and oppressed. In this post, I document my experience of getting from Amman, Jordan’s capital, to the city of Ramallah in Palestine. Palestinians cannot enter their country directly, they have to enter through Egypt (if they’re going to Gaza) or Jordan (if their destination is the West Bank).
In a normal world, you only need your passport to cross a border, with, perhaps, a travel permit stamp on one of the pages. Getting into Palestine needs a bit more than that…

The documents
Ladies and gentelmen, from left to right, top to bottom, we have:
- The Palestinian ID: a document saying that you are Palestinian, something you have to have on all the time in case you get stopped on a checkpoint.
- The Jordanian military service booklet: A useless document since there’s no obligatory military service in Jordan anymore. It takes forever through bureaucratic process to get one, and it essentially has no use.
- The permit: every time you exit Palestine, you have to buy one of those and you use it on the way back in. When I was leaving the West Bank at the end of the summer, it took 3 or 4 days to get one as the Israeli government wasn’t printing them. They were sold in the black market.
- The Jordanian passport: Why? Well because the West Bank was annexed to Jordan before falling under Israeli occupation in 1967.
- The yellow card (as we call it): officially known as the “crossings card”. It’s a Jordanian document given to you if you’re a Palestinian, documents when you enter and exit Palestine. Palestinians living in the West Bank are given a green card (no, not the American one). The green card, let’s just say makes your life a lot more complicated in Jordan.
Next step: Off to the dead sea where the crossing is. We call it “the bridge”. You hear “the bridge” all the time, going to the bridge, coming from the bridge, stuck on the bridge, lost his bags on the bridge, denied from the bridge, etc. etc. etc. Even poems were written about The Bridge!
First you wait on the Jordanian side of the bridge. I got up at 2 a.m. and got there at 4 a.m., and it was packed. People race to the bridge, but no matter how early you arrive, someone always beats you to the bridge. “Do people sleep on the bridge from the day before like on boxing day?” I wondered.
This is how the lineup was at 5 a.m. in the lowest altitude on planet earth in summer heat:

The line up on the Jordanian side of the bridge at 5 a.m. (300 people in front of me?)
I then waited until they started work at 7, I think. After getting through all the formalities of checking your passports you wait for the bus. Jordanians send buses to the crossing, and Israelis let them in one by one to check them, and sometimes you wait a long time in the bus just to cross the tiny, almost non existing Jordan river.

The bus finally
…The bus goes on the bridge, the legendary bridge. Thanks to the Japanese government, we have a concrete bridge now. But it was always exciting going on the wooden one.

The bridge!
After the bridge … Palestine! … well occupied Palestine. The bus stopped on an Israeli checkpoint in the middle of the desert, we got off the bus, they checked our passports and checked the bus then they let us go…

checkpoint in the middle of nowhere
Then we got to the main border building or what we call “The Israeli Brdige”, as opposed to the “Jordanian Bridge” on the other side. Welcoming us was this poster:

$10,000,000 if you have information about these two guys lost in Lebanon in 1982. They probably have to update the pictures
It has the pictures of two army men lost in Lebanon in 1982. It says “10,000,000$ for any information…”
Inside, you line up, get checked, line up again, get your passport signed, etc. They had pictures of King Hussein of Jordan and Yitzhak Rabin shaking hands and smoking cigarettes. “Peace” they call it…

Late King Hussein of Jordan and the assassinated Israeli prime minister Yitzhak Rabin
Then we got on another bus that took us to the Istiraha in the city of Jericho where we can take cabs to other cities in the west bank. But first the Palestinian authority had to check us and check the bus as well. I don’t know what to think of this, ironic or sad?

Palestinian Authority
Nice building PA!
And this is where you take a cab to your city of interest (Ramallah in my case):

And at the end…after a bumpy cab ride, I got to Deir Ghassaneh, my village near Ramallah. I needed two things when I got there, to sleep and to shower. I was in the sun all day, carrying my luggage from bus to bus, going from one window to the next getting some document stamped by someone with a funny accent.

I will end with the words of Darwish who spent so many years in exile, in airports, and on bridges:
“My country is not a suitcase
and I am not a traveler”