Home Again

All went well in the end. I got on the midnight flight to New York on Sunday night. When I landed at JFK I had some trouble with U.S. immigration. The agent asked me all sorts of questions; including if I was really born in Sweden.

Then he tells me “I’m sorry I can’t let you in.” Huh? Wha? It was 5 in the morning and I was in no mood to get deported. My first sleepy thought was, “But who will feed my cats if I don’t get back in?”

I was transferred to “the room” where they question you further. The agent there was much nicer and just asked a few questions about employment etc. Then stamped the stamp and I was in. For the record, yes I am completely legal and all my papers are in order and up to date.

North Jersey never looked so beautiful.

At least I am infinitely better off than the U.S. born Palestinian guy who sat next to me on the plane. He had flown to Israel from L.A. to visit his cousin on the West Bank who had just had a baby. He wasn’t even let into Israel. They just put him on the next plane back. Just like that. Sayonara.

Ok. That’s all for now. Thanks for reading my friends.

As some old hippie once said. What a long strange trip it’s been.

And, since there are barely any pics of me on this blog, here are a few shots of me in Israel, courtesy of Emma:

At A Bar

Taking Photos in Haifa

In Yaffo/ Tel Aviv with Emma, Two hours before missing my plane

I’m A Chump

So, I had hoped that my next post would be from my desk in Brooklyn. Those who know me well know that I am insanely nervous about being on time to catch trains, planes etc. Imagine my horror at having missed my flight.

I didn’t miss it exactly. Rather I arrived horrendously late, found the check-in desk closed and failed at convincing security to let me through to the gate.

The reason? Well, let’s just say I took a train 10 minutes on the wrong line and 10 minutes here and there added up to being nearly an hour late to the airport. The next plane leaves at midnight so now I have 9 hours to kill before boarding time. (Given I actually get on that plane which I sincerely hope I do.)

Seen from the bright side there is free wireless at the airport. Far better reception than at “home” so at least I can show you some of the photos I took in the last couple of days. Couldn’t upload those back in the apartment.

OK, if any of you read this during the day send me a prayer or whatever that I make it home by Monday morning.

Farewell to Berlin. Hello Tel Aviv

So, I’ve arrived in Israel. Flying from Berlin, over central Europe I’ve got to say: Damn it’s flat. Just fields all the way from Berlin to Bulgaria basically. Talk about West Asian steppe.

When I got off the plane the 60-ish man who had been sitting one seat down from me on the flight asked me where I was from. “Sweden,” I said. “Sweden? no, no, no! Hair not blonde.”

I’ve had this conversation in many varied forms before, good to know it never fails. Actually, never had it in Berlin this time. Not sure if they

A.) Just assumed I was American. B.) Are too P.C. to ask.

My taxi driver was a friendly Buhkaran Jew from Tasjkent. He didn’t speak much English and I speak virtually no Hebrew, but that didn’t stop us from yammering away all the way in to Tel Aviv.

I usually don’t initiate conversations with taxi drivers. It can be a bit of a crapshot, more often than not you find yourself fending off questions about your love life. This guy was 100% appropriate. I learned he had three kids, got to see a cellphone pic of his newborn son and learned that he had family in Queens, NYC (holla!) and Phoenix, Arizona. Also he once drove a tank in Gaza and used to be a photographer in Uzbekistan.

I didn’t want to pigeon hole him and talk about Queens, sheep roasts and diamonds. He had no such qualms. He talked diamond merchants and Lev Leviev with great pride. Also, he waxed poetic about the fine culture of Ukraine, Uzbekistan and other FSRs.

View from our Tel Aviv window. (Click for more pics on my Flickr page.)

Narcissism in Tel Aviv Bedroom:

Our Tel Aviv Bedroom:

One last pic from Berlin (me and my Berliner Weisse)

Berlin Baby

So, I spent a few days in Lund and did the interviews I hoped to do there. I also spent some quality time with the mom and the sister. Very nice.

Today, I’ve reached the third leg of my journey, Berlin. I’m writing this from my friend David’s living room on Gneisenau Straße in Kreuzberg. This is the view from here:

(Click the photo for more pics on my Flickr set.)

I took the night train from Malmö to Berlin last night. “Liegevagen” that is six bunks in a small cabin. Not bad actually, but not great either.

This is what Malmö Central Station looked like while I was waiting for the train — not unlike the header, no?

My cabin mates turned out to be a single guy, plus a family with two kids about 10 years old. Exactly the company I had hoped for. They were pretty quiet and didn’t talk much.

When I got on the train in Malmö everyone seemed to be wearing football jerseys (that’s “soccer” to you Americans) and have Swedish flags painted on their faces, including the family in my cabin. I asked them if they were on their way to a game. Turns out they were just going to visit an aunt in the Czech Republic. Also, today I found out Sweden lost their last game so not sure what all the face paint was about.

Guy from neighboring cabin in a football jersey (surreptitious shot from the hip.)

About 4 hours of the journey was spent in the train aboard a boat from Trelleborg (Sweden) to Sassnitz (Germany).

This was a bit of a low point. You can imagine what the non-air-conditioned cabin smelled and felt like after a few hours of six people sleeping it in it. I had the top bunk. At one point I went up on deck for a breather.

A view of Sweden from the boat:

I arrived at the Central Station in Berlin just before 6 a.m. which was a little rough. I managed to stay awake long enough to make it to Kreuzberg where I woke David’s sister up at the crack of dawn to let me in. Once there I slept for a few hours. It was divine.

Berlin too is awash in flags, Deutsch and Turkish, which I assume is because of the European Football Championships.

Jubilation!

Yay! My passport arrived. On time. With a new entry visa to the U.S. in it. This has been a source of considerable anxiety for me since I decided to take this trip so, yay! Woohoo! Now I can proceed to Germany and Israel without worries.

Of course the hardest part about getting the visa turned out to be picking it up at the “post office.” I use scare quotes because we don’t really have post offices in Sweden anymore. That is, they decided to save money by having supermarkets take over post office functions like selling stamps and package pick-up. Predictably this is a big pain in the butt.

The woman at the counter very nearly wouldn’t let me pick up the package containing my passport because A. you need a Swedish ID to pick up a package and my only Swedish ID is my passport. B. I had written c/o my mom on the address so the woman claimed I needed to come with my mom to pick it up. Gah!

After about 20 minutes of arguing and calls to various bosses she admitted she had been wrong and I could pick it up.

Also: I am deeply indebted to my sister for saying to the cashier, “Legally speaking c/o means that only the person it is addressed to, not the person who is c/o can pick it up.” I need to start using teh phrase “legally speaking” more often.

Lund

Am in Lund now. Well, actually I arrived by train late Tuesday night but not much has happened since. It’s much colder than in it was in Stockholm and has been raining on and off since I got here. That puts a damper on things. Seen from the bright side at least I’ve had time to sit down and get some work done, which I’ve been sorely neglecting since I got to Sweden.

Map of Sweden including Lund and Stockholm:

Today’s view from my mother’s living room window:

(Clicking the photo will take you to my Flickr set for this trip)