Monday, April 2, 2018

Odysseys in a Parallel Universe 6


Time had moved past midnight; Christmas Eve had turned to Christmas Day but I was in no mood to celebrate.
I was quickly losing any presence… of mind. Someone at the youth hostel had told me before that I should contact the Airport Police if I had any problems, so that’s what I determined to do. I walked through the restricted NO ENTRY Exit, half expecting to see my friend somewhere inside and asked for help. But no one could; whatever workers were still there even denied that such a group as Airport Police even existed! 
What had been only a worst scenario fear now took hold and challenged the reality of why I’d traveled across the Mediterranean the last 2 weeks. The truth finally broke on me + I did too: I was alone: in a strange land, no money, no friend… abandoned!
(No one knew that just a few years later this very room would see greater sadness, pain + suffering  than my self-centred feelings: Japanese Terrorists allied with the PLO would pull machine guns out of their suitcases and massacre scores of travelers in this very room!)
People tried to help me, but there were no more flights arriving that night, the Arrivals Hall was closing, so they told me I had to leave.
But where was I to go? I only had a few coins left and all my answers were ‘Blowing in the Wind.’
About an hour later, incapable of visualizing any next step, I stumbled outside and with my last shekels and boarded a bus back to Tel Aviv.
We drove for what seemed like an eternity. I sat and looked emptily through empty windows.
Suddenly, the bus stopped and the driver told me + a couple of Americans on the bus to get out: it was the end of the line!
I didn’t recognize any landmarks and had no idea where he was dropping us, but I could tell it was in a very dark Arab part of the city. Not even a street light to lighten our darkness.
The Americans wanted to head to the train station in the north of the city + get a train to Haifa, but with neither money nor other ideas, I walked with them because it was in the same direction as the hostel. None of us knew the actual way; we just followed whichever roads seemed to lead north.
Another hour later, we met another group of young Americans. I don’t why so many of us foreigners were wandering around Tel Aviv streets in the middle of Christmas night? but they too joined us.
One of them asked me how I was doing + I told candidly her, ‘Not good!’  and my whole story of  my last 2 weeks spilled out in all my confusion. I had persevered in my race to Israel on $45! + now I was broke – financially and emotionally!
Without a moment’s hesitation, she assured me confidently, ‘Don’t worry: God will work this all out for good for you!’
I was not a Christian then, but her faith brought me peace in the midst of my distress, just like that wave in Cyprus.
We continued walking.
Then both groups of Americans went their separate ways + I was completely alone.
Not too far to the hostel though + even if I didn’t have any money, I thought maybe I could stay there because I’d gotten to know the caretaker over the past couple nights.
But when I got to the hostel, no one was at the desk and the door was locked.
What to do?
Plan B kicked in: just jump over the wall! I found a place where I thought I could hoist my pack up + then heave it over + then jump over myself! Brilliant idea!
However, when I threw the pack over the wall, it landed on top of the chicken coop, awakened all the chickens + raised a real ruckus!
How do you quiet a bunch of squawking Jewish chickens at 3am on Christmas morning?
You don’t.
And my predicament steadily worsened. My pack was captive inside the compound + I was teetering precariously on the top edge of the wall, having snagged the seat of my pants on barbed wire, and the henyard was in an uproar!
Then a light came on, the concierge appeared + found me hanging on the edge of his roof!
He recognized me and mercifully didn’t call the police. Rather, he let me retrieve my packsack, and although he couldn’t allow me to stay without payment, he directed me to a park across the street where he said I could sleep quite safely.
‘Thieves + robbers shouldn’t bother you,’ he said.
I no longer had any other option: I was exhausted by the long day’s events, took his advice + found a place behind some bushes where I felt secure, potentially out of harm’s way.
I unrolled my sleeping bag, climbed in + with my jacket for a pillow, tried to get some sleep.
I did… if only 3 or 4 hours; but when the sun rose, I did too.

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