Passports

Today is the one year anniversary of the US Embassy being moved to Jerusalem.  In honor of that fact (although truthfully it's because I just went to the embassy yesterday), here is my post about renewing US passports.  I didn't think there would be much/anything to say about the process, but I actually found our "quickest trip ever to the US" to be pretty interesting.

First off, the security Jazzy-Our-Car went through was the most intense she's ever undergone since we've owned her.  Two security guards worked her over--running over the outside with explosives-detecting paper, looking under the car with what I would describe as a mirror stuck on a long-handled dust pan, searching the trunk and then searching the engine (having just driven 45 minutes through rush hour traffic, aside from some blatant Wile E. Coyote-type bomb with an alarm clock and a few sticks of dynamite, I wasn't sure what they could see/do in our hot engine, but, then again, I'm not a security expert).

We then waited in the rather long and slow-moving line for American citizens (as opposed to the rather long and slow-moving line for non-citizens applying for travel visas).  I spoke English with reckless abandon, because, hey, I was on US soil(ish.  Google tells me that's not really true).  Although, sadly, the majority of people working outside the embassy were Arab speakers, so it still felt inappropriate to speak English.

At the initial security check, all cell phones were checked in and not returned until we left (having been to the Israeli embassy in Boston before we made aliyah, I was expecting this).  It was fascinating to walk into the main waiting room and find....people TALKING!  Interacting with those they came with and total strangers!  It was CRAZY!  And a stunning contrast to the previous week when I had gone to a similarly large waiting room in our local government and it had been eerily silent as everyone stared down at their phones and ignored everyone else....

When our number was finally called, the guy at the window told me we needed to do one more thing before finalizing the paperwork and we should come back to him after completing it.  "Okay," I said, "and what's your name?" figuring I might need to tell security with whom I needed to speak.  "I can't tell you that" was the response!  I didn't realize working at the embassy was such a high security position, but, then again, if you're an Israeli Arab, maybe it is.

The young man who finalized all our forms had an accent that sounded so familiar I almost asked him where he was from.  He beat me to it after looking at our paperwork, and we found a "landsman" formerly from Worcester :)

last picture I was able to snap before being told "no photos".  Oops!