Stolen days in Israel

This is a long and mostly detailed rendition of what happened to me after my arrival in Tel Aviv. I would like to submit this information to the media and any NGOs or organizations that can use the information. By not doing anything I feel I will have more stolen from me. I hope you reading this can also use the information, submit it to the media, etc. I give you permission to do so, just do not use my full name and keep the integrity of the story. It would help me if you could spread this information around, submit it to organizations and the media and would make it easier for me.

On June 16^th, 2008 I set out for a trip to Israel and Palestine that I had planned three weeks prior. I had planned to meet a friend whom I had worked with previously at a non-governmental organization (NGO). She was going to show me the various sites such as Jerusalem, Ramallah, and her home town of Jenin. I wanted to see Palestine, and my friends. In addition, after starting a new internship in June in Geneva at a human rights institute I had obtained a contact in Tel Aviv who was a professor that I was hoping to meet as well and discuss matters related to my internship in addition to touring a different side of Israel related to the pursuit of human rights. I also was planning on meeting a friend from college that was in the area studying Arabic and teaching English. In addition I kept in mind a possibility of visiting Egypt during my last week of my planned three week stay. Clearly, I was hoping to meet many people and see many things during my stay in the Middle East. Unfortunately, though, I was unable to see anyone or anything besides the Ben Gurion airport and the guards at Tel Aviv immigration.

I hadn’t anticipated the problems that I was eventually confronted with after arriving at the Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv the morning of June 17^th at 4:25am. I asked so many people, so many questions concerning possible problems I would be confronted with and how to avoid them. Due to the fact that I was born in Iran, and this is reflected on my passport, I anticipated some questioning at the airport. I also anticipated difficulties when entering and exiting Palestine. What I did not expect was being denied entry into Israel completely. I also did not expect the inhumane and degrading treatment that I received while being detained for three days while waiting for my return flight.

What follows is a detailed account of what happened to me during my arrival and detention in Tel Aviv:

After exiting the plane I entered the line for those with non-Israeli passports. When I approached the kiosk the woman asked me my father’s name. After I said Mohammad Reza I was pretty sure I would be questioned further. She then asked me my grandfather’s name, I didn’t know, I didn’t have relations with him. She told me to stand to the side of the counter. I waited while others walked around me without problem to the counters and through to customs with their stamps. At that time I noticed that all the kiosks were occupied by women who behaved and appeared quite different from the passport control that I was accustomed to, they were rather informally dressed and casual in their attitude. I was then taken to an office to be questioned. The woman asked me why I was coming to Israel, where I was coming from, what I was doing there, who I knew here, how I knew them, did I have family here, what I studied, where I studied, my contact info, my friends’ contact info and even more questions. Then I was asked to wait in an open waiting room. I was then questioned again, but by a different woman and this time more aggressively. The woman again asked me the same questions, in addition to questions about my flights. I had a stack of papers with my flight info in addition to other information about Palestine and Israel. She saw these papers and asked to see them. Some of my papers were about volunteering in Nablus. I had a friend volunteering there that sent me these papers as it had information on how to get to Jerusalem and Israel. The woman accused me of lying, saying I wanted to volunteer instead of sight see or visit friends. She wanted me to log into my email so she could go through it because she didn’t believe me and said since I received the papers through an email that she needed to see my emails. I refused, saying I couldn’t, “as an American,” and this was a violation of my privacy. She stated that I was not cooperating in an angry and aggressive tone.

I asked her how could I have time to volunteer in three weeks, and she replied that I could extend my ticket. She continuously asked if I was going to volunteer or attend Arabic classes. I told her repeatedly no and she replied that I was lying. She also threatened to call the university that was in Nablus that put together the papers to ask if they knew about me, and I told her to go ahead as they would not know whom I was, yet she did nothing but continued to call me a liar. Even though I was going to sightsee and visit friends, I do not see how a possibility of volunteering at a university in Nablus to teach English would be a possible reason to deny me entry. She appeared to refuse to listen to my plans but was just assaulting me with “questions” that were really more like statements or assumptions of what she thought I would be doing, regardless of what I said.

This period of interrogation was then followed by her taking my papers and then me being told to wait more in the same room. Then I was taken to find my bag, but first a man questioned me again, with the same questions as I had been previously asked, standing outside of baggage claim. After finding my bags a group of men and women took me to a room and proceeded to x-ray then search through all my things, dump my things out of my bags, and wipe them down for explosives. This was without my permission or without explaining to me even the reasoning for such an intrusive search. I was also taken to a separate room and padded down, or frisked. They x-rayed my jacket and shoes. Then after this humiliation I was made to wait again in the same room I was constantly told to wait in. At this point I was still told nothing about my status. I tried asking some people in an office how long I would be waiting, they told me they didn’t know. I asked another woman who questioned me earlier and she said I wasn’t getting into Israel. I asked her why and she replied that I lied, when I asked what I lied about she just told me to sit in the room. The vast majority of employees were women it appeared. There was a tone of high arrogance exuded by the employees that exemplified the prejudiced nationalism that motivated their actions. Their ignorant behavior also reflected the robotic militaristic culture that ran Israel.

They fingerprinted me and photographed me at the airport. I wish that I resisted, but I thought by cooperating I would just get everything over with easier and I would have fewer problems. It turned out it really didn’t matter either way. During the whole time of interrogation I was not offered any food, and only once offered something to drink while my things were being x-rayed but only a hot drink and in the sweltering airport I could not drink anything that would only make me warmer.

After being interrogated for more than eight hours at the airport, from the time of landing, at 4:25am till around 1:00pm, I was taken with a German tourist and two Palestinian-American sisters to a van where they packed up our things and then drove us to Tel Aviv immigration. This building was supposedly on the grounds of Ben Gurion airport. During this time we were still told nothing. One of the sisters asked where we were going, that is how we found out we were going to Tel Aviv immigration. The German girl wasn’t very cooperative during the whole process and didn’t want to enter as she stated she didn’t want to be put in jail. I was maybe too cooperative as I thought being so would just get the process over quicker, I just wanted to go home at that point. Fortunately for the American-Palestinian girls their mother had called the airport and the place where we were and they were able to speak with her and were going to be flown out that day to London. We were made to put our bags in a room and we couldn’t take any pens, cameras, glass objects, or our phones with us. At this point I still didn’t understand that we would be put into detention, or why. They put us in a cell that had six beds, and was already occupied by four women. We were also four, which made a total of eight in the small cell.

I thought at the most we would just have to wait till the end of the day for our flights. After the American-Palestinian girls left I inquired about when my flight was. The guard told me I was to leave on the 20^th. At this point I completely broke down crying and upset because I did not want to be there for three days. I actually thought it was four days because I had forgotten I arrived on the 17^th and not the 16^th, but this day difference that I resolved later made little change in how difficult it was to be there or how slow the time passed. I was told the reason why I had to stay till the 20^th was because I was to be flown back to the same city I flew into Tel Aviv from and on the same airline. Earlier flights were apparently booked.

I wasn’t allowed out of the cell and just sat on a bed and cried. No one knew where I was. I was not allowed to call my mother, or the American embassy. I asked to call my mother and they would refuse or tell me later and later never happened. I had fortunately sent a text message through my mobile phone to my mother and some friends at the airport and told them I was being interrogated, but my phone was taken from me before they put me in the cell, my only means of communication.

The only time they would open the door, besides to call people out when their flights were ready and to give us food was during cigarette breaks. The next day there was a cigarette break where the guard left the door open, I used that chance to walk over to the office which was about 20 feet away from my cell and ask again about my flight and why I could not leave earlier. I was shouted at and told that there were no other flights. I asked to call my mother or the American embassy again and the woman again started to yell at me saying I could not call anyone. I asked what about my rights, and I referred to a placard that was by my cell of the rights of deportees, but she told me I was not being deported because I never entered Israel. Then she stated that I was arrested (even though I wasn’t), without stating the crime. I also pleaded in a feeble attempt apparently, stating that I knew people at the United Nations and other organizations, and asked about international law and human rights. Her response was to grab my arm and scream “put her back in her cell.” This experience jolted me further into a depression that lasted till the next day. I had no appetite during this period, and probably ate a handful of bread and a cup of tea just to keep the hunger pains from becoming overwhelming.

It was quite strange to be in the position I was, as my specialty is migration and I study international affairs. Having read so many stories of other people being detained, it is quite a strange experience being in that position. To be living it is another thing.

I had never felt so invisible, powerless and worthless. I was never told why I was there, no one told me anything. I never felt so alone. They treated us like criminals.

If we complained about our conditions they would scream at us. The cell was dirty, the blankets they gave us were old, and nothing was cleaned, and with people coming in and out from different countries who knows what was in the blankets. They barely took out the trash, which would pile up and cause the cell to smell. When someone complained about the dirty cell the “big boss,” as they called him, started screaming at the woman and threw the broom and dust pan into the room and told her to clean it. There was a cleaning lady but she didn’t clean really well and made the room dirtier. She was also yelled at. The “big boss” said that he cleaned his office so we should clean up after ourselves. There was an attitude that we were in some kind of hotel. Even one girl was told at the airport that she was being taken to a “mini-hotel.”

Every night and day new people would come, 3-5 women. Sometimes they would come at around 2:00am. The room had 6 beds but often there would be 7 of us. It was a room of maybe 8×10; there was a bathroom and two showers. The bathroom looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for a long time. There was little air circulation. There was a window but the way the building was made no breeze came in and it had two layers of “bars” that also impeded air circulation. They would put on the air conditioning at night, not during the day, and it would get so cold, almost 50°F, and caused us to get sick. I started wanting to vomit, probably because of the stress and the conditions. The only time we were able to leave the cell was to smoke a cigarette, which would be at the most three times a day. No exercise, fresh air or sunshine. The cigarette breaks were taken simply in the hallway in front of our cells in front of an open window. I would pretend to smoke just to leave the cell.

The new women that would arrive were mostly migrant workers who had been living and working in Israel with expired visas. One Palestinian-American girl came who was also denied entry. There were women from the Philippines, Georgia, Russia, Uzbekistan, Sri Lanka, Moldova, Nepal etc. They were all shocked when I told them I was American and just a tourist. They wondered why I was there. A lot of the migrant workers would be sent to jail, which was called Ramle, before they came to the immigration detention center. A woman from Nepal stayed in Ramle for six months just because she was waiting to get paid by her employer, then she came to the detention center to get deported. She didn’t want to leave. I doubt there are any inquiries as to what situation these people are deported back to, or if their lives are at risk from torture, etc. According to the migrant workers it appeared that Ramle was better than the detention center, as they had a small garden, were allowed to walk around and had better food.

A Filipino woman said: “This place makes you crazy. You’ll see. They tell you that you will leave tomorrow, then two more days, then more. You go crazy in here.” I probably would have gone crazy if I stayed any longer than I did.

They barely gave us water, maybe twice during my whole stay. They told us to drink from the tap when it wasn’t potable; it tasted like paint and was hot. They had intense lighting in the room. Three large circular lights on the ceiling, that were probably 1-1.5 feet in diameter, with a high intensity, almost as a fog light, and then by each bed there was a large light, the shape of a football, attached to the wall, twice as big as a football, also with a high intensity. They would leave these lights on into the night till maybe midnight or 2:00am, and sometimes during the day. They would also sometimes turn them on further into the middle of the night when they were bringing in new people. I asked for a Band-Aid for a sore I had on my foot and I was given some tape and gauze that wasn’t even packaged. I just used a napkin and taped it onto my foot.

When I asked if we could go outside to get sun and fresh air I had to tap on the small window on the door to get the guard’s attention and he said to stop tapping because it made him crazy, then yelled at me to open the window then walked away. We couldn’t leave the windows open at night because of mosquitoes. I had bites all over my body from them and maybe other bugs. The worst part though was that they didn’t let us call anyone. No one knew we were there.

My mother had called the American embassy in Israel apparently and someone from the embassy called me. They sometimes told us when someone called for us, I was allowed to speak to the woman who called from the embassy, her name was Eve Zuckerman, but she was of no help. She told me that my mother had contacted her but she did not help me speak to her and did not state that should do anything further for me besides re-examine my flight schedule. All she would tell me was what Israel had the right to do; she never mentioned my rights even though I was an American citizen and she was calling from the American embassy. She only confirmed that I had to leave on the 20^th to Barcelona, even though it was not even my original city of departure but a transit connection, as I was flying from Geneva, Switzerland.

I couldn’t sleep because of the lack of ventilation, unsanitary conditions, the harsh lighting and the heat. They gave us thick blankets one would use in the winter even though it was in the middle of June. I felt things crawling on my body and biting me when I covered myself with one. I couldn’t eat because of depression. I had definitely lost weight in that short period. When I came back I weighed myself and I had lost five pounds. I had no appetite even though I was hungry. I would eat maybe once or twice a day very small amounts of food just so the hunger pains wouldn’t hurt as much. I saw about 18 people come and go because 6 new people would arrive every day and about the same number would leave that day. Some people were very depressing to be around. One lady wouldn’t stop complaining, all day and all night. It was increasing my stress. The guards would constantly yell at us. They would scream at everyone for whatever reason.

I was wearing the same clothes for two days that I had already sweated through. When I asked to get a change of clothes because I couldn’t sleep, the guard replied that “this is not perfection” in terms of the conditions. Later I was allowed to get a change of clothes, this is when I smuggled my phone in my jacket sleeve back to my room. I then sent a text message to my mom and friend again telling them I was in detention. I had almost no credit on my phone though and almost no battery so I could only send two text messages. I also used my phone to take pictures of the cell. They had hidden cameras in the room, but I don’t know how they didn’t catch me, maybe because I was really discreet or they were not paying attention.

When it came time to finally be taken to my flight I was still treated as a criminal, escorted up to the plane and the driver, who turned out to be a policeman, handed my passport to the male cabin crewmember and just said “deport.” He said who are you, and the man said “policeman” only and the cabin crewmember asked for id. The cabin crew person gave my passport to the captain, which furthered my treatment as if I was a criminal. Insult to injury. The cabin crewmember said he didn’t know what to do because he wasn’t given a letter and this had never happened before. It was “all new” to him, he stated.

After I arrived in Barcelona I called my mother with an emergency phone card I luckily had. I also had to change my plane ticket from Barcelona to Geneva to get back home which cost me 247 Euros. I ended up spending a total of almost $1000 on this nightmare.

Three days of my life were taken away from me. How am I supposed to be compensated? Who will compensate me? No one should have to go through this, or be treated like this.

I was treated like an animal. Put in a cage, yelled at, not allowed out, not allowed to call anyone. I fear traveling alone now, and question my rights and the ability for the American government to protect me, even though I am a citizen. This was a very traumatic time for me that I will never be able to forget.

After being back in Geneva and speaking to my friends and my mom I found out even more disturbing information regarding my detention. When my mother or my friend that I was to visit in Palestine would call any Israeli authority they would not tell them where I was or that I was even being detained. They told my friend in Palestine that I was not even there and they told my mom that I was no longer being detained. This lack of information is even more violating.

[This report was edited and updated on June 22, 2008: the previous versions contained problems that conflicted with my political ideologies but encapsulated the anger that I felt after being released]