You'll never know how lucky you are

I gave a big sigh as the taxi pulled up to the security street in front of the US Embassy on Wednesday...a here we go again sigh...I'm so weary sigh. I looked down the street; along the Embassy wall was a very long line...longer than the one on August 26 when I was here. I also looked for the American Citizen entrance and didn't see it...how could it disappear? I walked to the right all the way to the end of the wall where Egyptian police stood..one with a long gun. I tried to explain what I was looking for. All of the sudden the police man with the intimidating gun swung around...the gun almost hitting me. I must have shrieked; I know I jumped back and was totally freaked out. The policeman was laughing until he saw I was truly frightened. I blurted out, I hate guns, put it away. He stopped the laughter and was so sorry, very sorry, excuse me. I collected myself and followed him to what was the wrong door.

It's back to the long line and the man in charge of it. He wants to see my appointment confirmation...which I don't have. I have to have it to get into the Embassy, well I didn't receive it. I had an appointment on September 14 and changed it to September 8, I didn't receive a confirmation., I have to have it. Maybe I can find the Citizens entrance. The man in charge of the line has told me in his strongest voice, the entrance does not exist. A policeman tells me to go down to the corner turn right and it's right there....I follow his directions and find a small store with cigarettes and junk food; a barber shop, big stairs, important looking stairs and decide to try them. When I reach the top, I have no clue what to do...I come back down and ask a policeman who can't understand. Finally a very pretty college student fashionably coved in a peach colored head scarf; a peach and pink swirly loose scarf/top and a wonderful tiered skirt with the same peach, pink, with green, yellow, cream and deep orange. Follow, she tells me. We're up the stairs, turn to the left go up more stairs we knock on a door and she says, Here. As the door opens it reveals ten overweight men in Black slacks and blue shirts...come in, come in, here's a chair, you want water. I know this isn't the Embassy...it's a computer and communication center.

We depart and I notice a very striking brass and glass door across the landing. There's no sign but it looks official...I ring the bell and no one answers. I knock gently, I lock louder and see a small man with glasses making his way to the door . No this isn't the Citizen's entrance; it's really not part of the embassy, but it is part of the embassy. It's the research archival library with signs saying "employees only" carefully placed when you are insinde...come in, come in says the archivist. I receive a short tour and then I'm on my way back to the long line against the wall.

I go to the entrance and try explaining again to the man in charge of the line that I have a special problem, don't know who I should see, had a 9:00 appointment and it's almost 9:30. Again I'm asked for my confirmation, which I still don't have, he knows that. Well let me check on your  appointment. You have no appointment, your not on the list! (I have trouble getting on lists) I can't understand...I talked to BB, head of the Embassy Legal Dept and he said I should call if I have a problem; maybe I could use the phone of the man in the glass window...he tries to dissuade me but I zip to the window. As the man asks for my appointment confirmation I slip my pass port through the opening. And begin explaining...need help, don't know who I should talk to, can't understand why I'm not on the appointment list, I'd spoken to BB, he said call if I needed help, maybe I could use his phone to call. Out of the blue the man behind the window says, "go, go , go in" and waves me toward the Embassy entrance. I hurry because I don't want him to change his mind. As I reach for the door knob a voice says "You have no idea how lucky you are" I turn around and see the man in charge of the line just shaking his head in disbelief.

Inside is a breeze, literally! there's air conditioning and a fan. I'm directed to the same place I signed my affidavit two weeks earlier. I take a number and sit down. When my number's called I take a deep breath, exhale slowly and walk to window two. The clerk thinks she remembers me, wasn't I here in the winter? when that group, code pink,, that's it. No, no, no, no I wasn't here then I was here in May with a very small delegation, 13 people. I know there continue to be unpleasant thoughts about the Gaza Freedom March and I need to stay distanced from that.I begin my "problem"...you need to sign an affidavit...I did that...what I need are documents faxed to the Egyptian Foreign Ministry. The wise woman says, I can't help with this you'll have to see the man in window three, he's busy go take a seat. Finally, someone who recognizes the limitations of her position.

I'm called to window three, I begin my explanation...and am cut off. Now! let me explain what you need to do, what we do...he talks about the US warning...you will have to sign an affidavit...I shove mine through the slit under the glass. Oh! I explain all I need is to have my documents faxed to the Egyptian Foreign Ministry....we don't do that you must take them yourself. I explain I did that and there is a new procedure...the embassy needs to forward them. Well, they can't and they won't that's supporting my going to Gaza which they don't support. Please, I'm not asking for support; I'm asking that you follow the new procedure...nothing more, nothing less. But we can't support you. I mention BB and Legal, no change in his stance. I thank him kindly for being helpful giving me so much of his time but I really need to talk to his supervisor. He doesn't think I need to but finally tells me to go sit and they'll call me.

Once again my number is called, god forbid they use a name, it would make you seem human, The supervisor is also behind window three. He doesn't look like a supervisor...at one point I almost question that. Upon occasion I have been passed off to pretend supervisors and I'm getting pretty good at spotting them. He begins with the same script about the warning, the affidavit.....Please, I've been through that. I need for the embassy to forward my documents to the Egyptian Foreign Ministry. Why? You need to take them yourself. I really want to scream, but don't...no wild woman scene...We go over the new procedure at the Ministry, he says no, we can't do that, we do not support your going to Gaza. I mention BB in Legal, maybe I should call as he suggested It's a procedure, I am not asking for support, I'll even sign additional papers just follow the procedure. NO Ok here we go; thank you for your help, etc., etc. I would like to speak with your supervisor. He looks shocked. She's very busy, she may not even be here, she has appointments. I certainly understand, I'll wait until she's free. I have no plans for the afternoon, I'm quite willing to wait. Please go have a seat.

My number is called, I give another big sigh, take deep breaths, smile and go to the windows once again...
I'm in for a pleasant surprise "Y" the supervisor is friendly, smiles easily and often, has long curly hair, blond hair, wears stylish clothes in bright colors, she listens, thinks and even thinks outside the box. I wonder how she was hired, maybe the interviewer had lost their glasses and hearing aids.

My information is the first time she's heard of the new policy at the Egyptian Foreign Ministry..."but lots of the time they don't tell me things..ha, ha" When i explain I merely want the US Embassy to follow the new procedure she smiles (she's on to me) I mention BB in legal if she'd like to call him. The letter of invitation from UNRWA, "that's very good" The support from the ML in the Egyptian Intelligence. My disappointment, frustration. I'm not a radical..."you certainly don't look like one" Here's the phone number for my contact at the ministry who handles Palestinian matters. I say I'd be more than willing to sign a release or another document if that would help. She promises to work on it that afternoon and she'll call me before 4:00. I add that I don't mean to sound corny but the reason I want to return to Gaza is the children...they've been through so much. I hope to leave them with some positive memories, memories of me, positive memories of an American. "Y" smiles and says, "That's diplomacy at its best" God I hope she can help me!