The final days in Israel bring a rush of farewells, a near miss with a bomb threat, a profound encounter at a church, and an intense airport security check before finally returning to Japan to face new realities.
With the things I bought, the books, and the used shirt and sandals I got from my roommate, my things would no longer fit in my bags. I went out and bought one medium-sized traveling bag. I also bought the caretaker’s child a toy horse because we used to play in the lobby. It was going to be my parting souvenir for him. When I handed it to the child, only then did I realize that I had been playing with a girl.
Because I was worried about having the iron rod in my luggage, I went back to the shop where I bought it and asked for a receipt. He gave me one but with a much lower figure. (I later found out that even the date on it was different.) He said he could not put the real price on it. It was fine with me. I only needed proof that I bought the item from his shop. Included in the receipt was the cross that I bought from a shop he recommended days after I bought the iron rod from him. As I tried to pack my things, I was having second thoughts about the wooden cross. Someone had lent me a book, and I read it from beginning to end during my free time when I was at the inn. It described how the use of the cross was begun by Constantine and how the symbol had been used even before the time of Jesus. In the end, I decided to carry it with me, thinking that it might be useful to avoid misconceptions if I happened to be interrogated again at the airport.
I left the inn before noon because I wanted to give the Kohen a surprise gift. I had already found a store selling appliances a few blocks away from his place, so I invited him to come with me. Because his electric stove was old and I knew his house had a cooking gas line, I wanted to buy him a new gas range. That way, cooking would be more comfortable and faster. He refused to have it, but I was able to convince him to accept it as my gift.
I then broke the news that I was leaving for Japan soon. Everyone was surprised, but they just found another reason to have the barbecue. It was going to be a farewell party. The Kohen, understandably, was not just surprised to hear that I was leaving in two days. He had just helped me get permission from an authority earlier, and now the news. I apologized for the sudden change of plans, but he could only express his disappointment with a sigh and a reminder about making commitments. I promised him and everyone that I would come back. We agreed to keep in touch, so I asked them to give me their telephone numbers, addresses, and/or e-mail addresses.
We went to the market to buy some food for the barbecue and gathered at the bus stop while waiting for Reuben, who had left to get the meat. He said he might be a little late but would surely come, so we waited even if we missed the last bus trip to the Kohen’s residence. When he finally came, we had no choice but to take another bus and get off at the farthest we could go and from there take our chances. We had been on the bus for quite some time when it slowed down because there was another bus parked beside the road. Its passengers were off the bus, and there were some officers in uniform among them. I was told that it was the last bus we had missed taking earlier and that it was stopped because there was a bomb threat. I thanked God for using Reuben to save us from potential trouble.
Our bus went on, and we got off at a certain corner. They asked around to find out if there was another bus we could take from other routes, but because it was a Friday afternoon, our last resort was to call a taxi, which I volunteered to pay for. For that, Mike* said, “May you be in heaven four days before Satan knows you are already dead.” I did not get it right away, so I asked him to repeat it. Then we laughed together.
The barbecue party turned out to be fun. It was windy at times, but it also helped to keep the fire burning. Reuben told us some funny “tricks” on how to make the wind blow in another direction. He said one should say, “I hate rabbits.” The other funny thing I noticed were the cats. I was in the kitchen when they came by the window and made noise while looking at me. I did not have the ability to talk to animals, but it felt like they were upset I was leaving soon. I asked them not to worry because I would come back someday again. Interestingly, they seemed to calm down and stopped making the noise.
Because we had to catch the bus to the downtown, we ended the barbecue before we missed it again. Kohen Ariyeha went back to the downtown area with us. Steven was a Christian, and he had invited me to attend their service the following day. He said there was a member in his church who had already been declared dead but lived again after some period of time. I was intrigued to see the person, hoping I could smell God through his breath. I asked the Kohen to go with me, and unexpectedly, he agreed. But he could not stay until the service ended. He called my attention from the back row where he was seated and said he was leaving. He said the place was not for him. The loud music from the band as a singer sang worship songs must have been the main reason for his decision. As an old man who had been living a quiet life, the place, probably, was just too much to bear.
When the service ended, I saw some people begin to gather around a man. I learned that he was the one who once had died but came to life again. I approached the crowd and squeezed in until I got near him. I even went closer so I could smell his breath as he spoke. I could feel the air coming from his mouth, but I could not sense any scent. If it smelled like anything, it was like the smell of water. It made me believe even more that it was God who gave his breath back. I left the church after bidding Steven goodbye and proceeded to a food chain restaurant where Leah and I had agreed to meet. I told her about the sudden change of plans and apologized for canceling our scheduled trip to Bethlehem and the Red Sea the following week. She was also planning to take me to a gathering of Jehovah’s Witnesses, but that too was no longer possible. She gave me some books, including one about Daniel, whom she knew I had a particular interest in. I thanked her for all the kindness and invaluable support during my stay and asked her to send my message of gratitude to her equally kind husband. He was a professor in Israel, and we had been properly introduced by Leah a few days after we had met on the street. Before we parted, I asked her to write her name and address on one of the books she gave me. Like with the other newly found friends, we wanted to keep in touch.
I still had ample time for my preparation for departure when I got back to my room. One of my roommates, who was from Japan, was there, and she handed me a letter written in Japanese. She verbally thanked me for cutting her hair and for the shirts I gave her. She also thanked me for the friendship we had, but the feeling was mutual. I appreciated the fact that she trusted me with her stories even if she would not talk to other people in the inn. She also shared her food with me when I began to eat again. She had a stock of food in the refrigerator in the common kitchen because she knew a place where to get them for free. She had been in Jerusalem for quite some time, so she knew the area better than I did. She had been my longest companion in the room because others would only stay for a few days, then leave. The one who occupied the bed across from mine said she was a radio reporter in Italy. Intrigued about my story, she asked me if she could interview me on record. I saw nothing wrong with it, so I agreed. I did not see much of her again since then. I only knew she had checked out when I saw another woman using her bed.
For one last time before leaving the Inn, I unpacked and checked all my things again. In my luggage for check-in were my clothes and the new vest I bought with the cross, the sandals, my notebooks, the books I bought and received, the Bible, the iron rod and the cross. I also had in it the bar of chocolate that Shoko-san gave for my son. The bag was full but it still was small I could have it as a hand carry luggage if it was not heavy. I only took two small books and put them in my small bag together with my documents, wallet and a bottle of water.
A van came to pick me up in front of the inn. There were only a few seats taken when I got in it, but it was full by the time we headed to the airport. We reached our destination at dawn, and the first thing I did was to look for the airline company’s ticket office to pay for the extra charge for changing my return date and to get my ticket. By the time I finished, there were already two long lines of passengers at the check-in counters. I stood behind the last person in one of the lines and put my luggage beside me. Some passengers had suitcases or a cart for their luggage, while some young people were carrying huge backpacks. My bags looked too small beside them.
As I waited in line, I saw some people in uniform from the front row randomly checking the passengers’ passports. Some were even asked to leave the line with their things and follow the officer. As the woman checking the line where I belonged got closer, I had a feeling that she would not just go past me. And I was right. She asked for my passport, and I handed it to her together with my ticket. She then asked if the bag beside me was my luggage, my only luggage other than my small backpack. When I said it was, she asked how long I had stayed in Israel. That I was there for two weeks seemed to make her even more suspicious. She thought my luggage was too small for a two-week vacation. She asked me to carry it and follow her. She turned me over to other officers in a rectangular area wherein some bags and suitcases were laid open and being searched. They asked me questions about my stay; where I stayed, what I did, the places I visited, if I took any pictures, and the people I met. I was also asked about my personal life and work in Japan. Unlike when I was interrogated upon my arrival, I was feeling nervous because I already knew something about the country. I was worried they might suspect that I was some kind of threat to them and keep me in jail. Fortunately, I had a bottle of water in my bag which was still sealed. I asked the officer if I could open it while trying to hide my emotions. With a sensor, they tried to check every single thing in my bags. Even the chocolate that Shoko-san gave me seemed to be a cause of concern because I was asked where I got it. The woman officer said they were very particular with things like that because there had been a case in the past when a pregnant woman attempted to board a plane carrying chocolate that her boyfriend gave her. Through security checks, though, they discovered that the said chocolate was made of explosive materials. When we got to the part when they could not seem to believe how my stay went that well despite the fact that I did not know anyone when I arrived, I was able to express my displeasure through a question. “Is there something wrong with coming to Israel without knowing anyone?” The woman staff member said there was nothing wrong with it. In fact, she said I was very lucky. When they seemed to have run out of questions to ask, I was asked to take the cash from my wallet and follow another two female officers, leaving all my other things to them. They took me to a room with several cubicles in it. I was asked to enter one of them and to take off my clothes except for my underwear. They checked my clothes and whole body with the sensor as they spoke to each other in a language I did not understand. Even marks on my skin did not escape their attention. They ran the sensor over them again and again until they were perhaps convinced that they were natural marks. When it was finally over, they asked me to put my clothes back on, and I followed them back to where my luggage was. They put my things back in my bags while I was watching.
My bags were returned to me, and I was escorted by an officer to another place. We were running because they said I was already late for my flight. The staff asked for my documents and said I could just carry my luggage to the plane. But because it was heavy and I knew I had to wait for my transit flight at the Milan airport for hours, I insisted on checking in my bag. The staff agreed, smiling. It could be because a vehicle would have to drive all the way to the airplane carrying only that one piece of luggage.
We then rushed to another place with a closed gate. The officers opened it for me to pass and that was where we parted. I thanked them as we smiled and waved to each other. I then ran in the direction they told me and found a woman standing by the exit door. She asked for my boarding pass. I handed it to her, and I requested a window seat like I always did. She only smiled at me and asked me to wait for a while. When I got on the plane and looked for my seat number, I could not help but smile when I found it. It was right by the window behind my seat, and the door was in front of me. There was more space to move my feet in, and it was not the first time I was given a seat by the door, so it was just fine with me. When I put my bag down, I noticed that it had a tag with an orange edge. I had never had my hand-carry tagged like that, but I thought they must have put it on purpose. When the flight attendant sat on the chair across from me, it was the woman who had taken my boarding pass earlier. I quietly smiled and thought they must be really serious about keeping an eye on me.
When the plane was already flying smoothly after the take-off, I took out the Book of Daniel and read it. But I was too tired to continue. I would fall asleep every time I tried to so I returned it in my bag and took a rest.
With the tag in my bag, I did not have a hard time taking a nap at the Milan airport too. Who would dare to touch me when security officers had their eyes on me?
I was on my way to Narita via Alitalia airline when I remembered my conversation with the Japanese woman at the Petra Inn. She showed me a green blanket with the name of the same airline on it. She said it was alright for passengers to take them home, so I could also get one if I wanted to. That was something I had never heard before, so I left the one I used on my seat when we landed. But when I was waiting in line by the door, I took a blanket from a chair and hung it on my arm. When I got to the door where the flight attendants were greeting the passengers, I asked one of them if I could have the blanket. He said he did not see me. I did not step forward because I did not know what he meant by that. So I asked what he meant. He said, “If I saw you, I have to say no, so please go because I did not see you.” For a while, I thought of putting it back where I got it. But with the line behind me, I just thanked him and stepped outside the plane. Slowly walking forward, I still was not sure whether to take or return it. In the end, I hoped I would not be accused of stealing it and moved with the flow of passengers forward.
Contrary to my experience in Israel, I passed the immigration and customs check without any kind of trouble at all. I walked out of the door, and there I saw Mitch waiting for me. He looked happy to see me again, and I was glad to be back. I told him my stories, and he told me the sad news about Michael. He said there were times he did not come home at night, and I was about to find out why from Michael himself when we met.
This chapter brings the Israel trip to a close. Despite the heightened tensions and strict Israeli security measures, the iron rod—the physical manifestation of the journey's spiritual apex—slips through completely unnoticed. The return to Japan immediately grounds the narrative back into harsh reality with the news about Michael.