1998-1999 Rothberg Yearbook

(Hj Criminal ReC© r d
by Mike Lebson
First of all, let me just say that the only country where I
could have legitimately gotten in trouble with the law was
Jordan. In Russia and Egypt I was innocent, I swear!
I guess the students of the One-Year Party have an international
reputation for trouble-making, because in every country outside
of Israel that I toured this year, I had run-ins with the law. In
October I toured Russia for 3 Vi weeks. I learned a lot during
that time, including how the “law” works in Russia: it doesn’t. Mike (left) bringing out his feminine
side with travel partner Eyal
I met an Australian backpacker in my hostel the second
day I was in Moscow, and we decided to tour the capital together. Our first stop was to be
Lenin’s body (preserved and heavily guarded on Red Square for your viewing pleasure). As we
were walking toward the Metro station in our usual happy-go-lucky, Ha-ha-communism-felland-capitalism-didn’t
way, we crossed a wide road to get to the other side. Just as we were
poised to enter the Metro station, the police closed in on us in a high-precision sting operation....
Ok, so one G.A.I. (traffic cop) stopped us, took our passports and visas, and ordered us into his
unmarked van. Since he had a submachine gun and our only means of international identification,
we were forced to obey, despite much protesting and an attempted 10-ruble - about 68
cents U.S. at the time - bribe (hey, we’re cheap). After a half hour of interrogation in the van
(interspersed with offers of vodka and beer which we declined), we learned the ultimatum: 300
rubles ($20 U.S.) each, or be booked at the police station and released for free. Our crime?
Crossing the street at a place other than a crosswalk.
Being the shrewd backpackers that we were, my Australian friend and I opted for the
police station. After another fifteen minutes or so, it became clear that we had accidentally
called his bluff, and we finally got to leave for free (which, I found out later, is extremely rare...
so don’t try this at home, kids).
My encounter with the Egyptian law in February did not require as much
fierce mental strategy, but rather driveling pleas for mercy: while my friend
Eyal and I were waiting for the Metro train - which seems to be the only
common denominator with my Russian quasi-arrest - in Cairo, I decided on a
whim to take a picture of a clock with Arabic numerals hanging from the
ceiling. (Hey, admit it, that’s a pretty neat picture!) An astute young soldier
noticed my felony, and promptly marched me to his commander upstairs.
Clock in Egypt This time, at the wise suggestion of Eyal, I had surrendered my student ID
card instead of my passport. Drawing from a wealth of knowledge of Arabic (“Ana khawagga”
- “I am a dumb tourist”) gleaned from my Let’s Go guide, I was released with a wag of the
finger and a snicker. My crime? Pictures are forbidden in the Metro.
Jordan is a little different story. Travelling alone, I decided to save time and money, both
of which were running low, by sleeping inside one of the ancient caves carved into the rock face
of the old city of Petra. This wasn’t exactly “legal”, but I couldn’t see it hurting anybody. It
must have looked strange, though, leaving at 7:30 in the morning when all the other tourists were
coming in, because a man with an authoritative air (which is often the only way to tell who is in
charge in Egypt or Jordan) stopped me and sternly asked if I had slept in Petra. Once again the
Quick Thinker, I told him that I had just entered, and now I was leaving again because I did not
feel well. He grunted and I kept walking quickly, clutching my stomach for emphasis.
I really can’t extract a common moral from my international run-ins with the law, other
than: When the police stop you for no good reason, don’t get too worried. :-)