Tuesday 3 July
Walking down the road in the busy streets of Tel Aviv I got quite a few stares with my Star Spangled Banner high waisted shorts. They were odd and out of the ordinary. It was hot. I got off the train at the central station and made my way down to the bus stop where I knew I had to catch the number 16 shirut to take me to Ben Yehudah Street. In the shirut I sat in the front seat ont he left hand side and stared out the window, wondering what the outcome of today would be. I couldn't help the small bubble of excitement, forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a lot of traffic that day and the sound of cars hooting and bus drivers yelling at each other through open windows was deafening. I tried to relax but I couldn't. I reached my stop and quickly made my way through the front door, up to the sixth floor and through the metal detectors with no hassles. I sat down in the all too familiar, grey chair, in the chilly Visa office that seemed too big for its purpose and looked through the clear glass that separated the thin woman from myself.
"I suppose you know your visa has been denied"
I shook my head. Shock. A little part of my soul died.
The rest of the day is a numb blur of my dreams being crushed in front of me, a spicy Bus Station Falafel and a bar of Cow Chocolate on the train ride home.
I stared through the dirty window of the train at the landscapes speeding past as if they were only a figment of my imagination. I listened intently to the words that the Ethiopian lady was saying to her friend who was sat across from her. They tumbled out of her mouth like a whisper, a song without a melody. Her skin was smooth and the fading light hit it at just the right angle making it shine as though she was the sun and the light from inside her was illuminating the world around her.
The train rolled to a halt and she left.
