Hey? Always wondered how YOU can support ME while I'm here in Palestine? Quick! Go here! It ends today: http://www.goats.com/store/enigma/
Buy shirts for me! They're awesome! Have them shipped to:
Lutheran Church of Our Redeemer
attn: Jarrod Jabre
POB 14076 Muristan Road
91140 Jerusalem VIA ISRAEL
But do it quick! The sale ends today! (the 31st, your time, I *think*. You can always try afterwards..maybe Jon will be nice/forgetful.)
Not in the spending mood? At least go to www.goats.com and read through some of the comics...I suggest starting all the way at the beginning (trust me). **Warning: Contains content that may be unsuitable for minors, or may be offensive to some folks reading these entries. To the point of near gratuity. I think his art and brilliance is worth the risk, even if he has been meandering for two or so years.**
So..uh...anyhow. Enough of me begging. GOODBYE.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Selling Holy Land by the Pound
Last night the streets smelled of Vegas. There was a distinct presence of vanilla.. not the real vanilla, or even the vanilla from scented candles, but the vanilla from whatever it is that casinos use to keep their floors and elevators from smelling like whiskey and sex.
Strangely, Vegas is one of the few cities that has ever truly captivated me, to the point of calling me to return after I departed. Incongruous as that might sound for a faux-socialist seminarian to say about a city built on the illicit, underhanded and amoral, but you have to admire a city that truly knows itself. So many cities and towns try to be something they're not; the farming town that wants to be an industrial giant, the burgeoning city that believes that building bigger arts centers will magically make them an arts capital. Vegas... has none of these pretensions. It seems to enjoy being precisely what it is, and finds new avenues only in advancing and refining its set course.
Bethlehem, despite thousands of years of history, seems to have less of a grasp on itself...which makes sense for city living through as much turmoil and uncertainty as this town sees daily. A tourist town, for about three blocks. Then a rural village. Then a few blocks of growth and modernization. A block of random tourist attractions..the kinds that, you can tell, are only visited when the owner's cousin brings their tour bus to that certain olive wood shop and conveniently placed falafel stand. (Easy way to spot these: their doors are closed and locked, any time of day or week, unless a tinted-window bus is parked outside.) Be sure to stock up on all your once-in-a-lifetime opportunities of glass, wood, and even samples of the dirt off the sidewalks: today, lucky shoppers, they're selling Holy Land by the pound, and just for you, just today, at a very special price.
The tragedy is that they have to sell the ground in plastic bags...everything else worth having has been taken from them.
Bethlehem..birthplace of Christ, and now barely 30% of its people are Christian, in a town that was once a bastion of Christians in the Holy Land. Continued war, oppression and occupation, with the resulting and mirroring growth in Islamic fundamentalism, have forced many former occupants, Christian and Muslim alike, to leave. The town, the country, the region. The percentages have not been even. If the occupation continues as it is, we stand the very real chance of having the monks at the Church of the Nativity remain as the only Christians in town.
Explain that to your die-hard "Defending Israel is a Christian's Duty!" friends. The ones who don't care that the ancestors of the Apostles still live in this land: the ones who, when you read the itineraries of their "Holy Land" tour groups do not even list Bethlehem...so scared, or prejudiced -- or both -- are they that they cannot step foot behind the wall long enough to ride a plush-seated bus through the streets where tired shepherds once ran to catch a glimpse of their Messiah.
There, the strange and tragic disparity between The City of Sin and the Town of David. Las Vegas is selling itself willingly; Bethlehem has been unwillingly sold out.
Strangely, Vegas is one of the few cities that has ever truly captivated me, to the point of calling me to return after I departed. Incongruous as that might sound for a faux-socialist seminarian to say about a city built on the illicit, underhanded and amoral, but you have to admire a city that truly knows itself. So many cities and towns try to be something they're not; the farming town that wants to be an industrial giant, the burgeoning city that believes that building bigger arts centers will magically make them an arts capital. Vegas... has none of these pretensions. It seems to enjoy being precisely what it is, and finds new avenues only in advancing and refining its set course.
Bethlehem, despite thousands of years of history, seems to have less of a grasp on itself...which makes sense for city living through as much turmoil and uncertainty as this town sees daily. A tourist town, for about three blocks. Then a rural village. Then a few blocks of growth and modernization. A block of random tourist attractions..the kinds that, you can tell, are only visited when the owner's cousin brings their tour bus to that certain olive wood shop and conveniently placed falafel stand. (Easy way to spot these: their doors are closed and locked, any time of day or week, unless a tinted-window bus is parked outside.) Be sure to stock up on all your once-in-a-lifetime opportunities of glass, wood, and even samples of the dirt off the sidewalks: today, lucky shoppers, they're selling Holy Land by the pound, and just for you, just today, at a very special price.
The tragedy is that they have to sell the ground in plastic bags...everything else worth having has been taken from them.
Bethlehem..birthplace of Christ, and now barely 30% of its people are Christian, in a town that was once a bastion of Christians in the Holy Land. Continued war, oppression and occupation, with the resulting and mirroring growth in Islamic fundamentalism, have forced many former occupants, Christian and Muslim alike, to leave. The town, the country, the region. The percentages have not been even. If the occupation continues as it is, we stand the very real chance of having the monks at the Church of the Nativity remain as the only Christians in town.
Explain that to your die-hard "Defending Israel is a Christian's Duty!" friends. The ones who don't care that the ancestors of the Apostles still live in this land: the ones who, when you read the itineraries of their "Holy Land" tour groups do not even list Bethlehem...so scared, or prejudiced -- or both -- are they that they cannot step foot behind the wall long enough to ride a plush-seated bus through the streets where tired shepherds once ran to catch a glimpse of their Messiah.
There, the strange and tragic disparity between The City of Sin and the Town of David. Las Vegas is selling itself willingly; Bethlehem has been unwillingly sold out.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Credit Where Credit is Due
Interesting dichotomy... on Arab satellite television, usually the credits at the end of movies are cut off midway, to make time for another repeat of the same "coming soon" teaser ad they've run during every commercial break.
Yet, at the end of every music video, is a full listing of every person (and I mean every person) involved with the filming thereof.
So screw you, American key dolly grips. If you aren't working on Amr Diab's latest video, you can kiss your fleeting five seconds of scrolling screentime sayonara!
Yet, at the end of every music video, is a full listing of every person (and I mean every person) involved with the filming thereof.
So screw you, American key dolly grips. If you aren't working on Amr Diab's latest video, you can kiss your fleeting five seconds of scrolling screentime sayonara!
Monday, January 19, 2009
Variance
I laugh, to myself, each and every time I pass a barber shop with the word "saloon" in its name. I wonder if it's a case of widespread Engrish, if it's a pronunciation variance, or if the word is etymologically a cognate that just happens to have a variant meaning in English.
It's easy to imagine that the place where you are isn't so different as where you left, when you sit in your apartment and hear the happy chiming of the ice cream truck outside. Sure, it's odd that the truck is still making it's rounds at 9pm, but maybe that's a cultural thing.
Until you see the ice cream truck one random morning, playing it's happy ice cream truck jingle, and you realize it's the propane delivery truck.
In many ways, I believe it might be more disjarring to live in a world that so closely resembles your own, and yet is so very different in so many simple, integral ways.
(It took me three minutes to think of the word "integral." Maybe alcohol does kill off brain cells, and this is my punishment. Perhaps, alternatively, I've been out of school for too long.)
It's easy to imagine that the place where you are isn't so different as where you left, when you sit in your apartment and hear the happy chiming of the ice cream truck outside. Sure, it's odd that the truck is still making it's rounds at 9pm, but maybe that's a cultural thing.
Until you see the ice cream truck one random morning, playing it's happy ice cream truck jingle, and you realize it's the propane delivery truck.
In many ways, I believe it might be more disjarring to live in a world that so closely resembles your own, and yet is so very different in so many simple, integral ways.
(It took me three minutes to think of the word "integral." Maybe alcohol does kill off brain cells, and this is my punishment. Perhaps, alternatively, I've been out of school for too long.)
Friday, January 16, 2009
Carrots are delicious.
Woke up late today, thanks to not having classes on holy days, which makes for the world's oddest weekend (consisting of Friday and Sunday).
Had a hot shower, which requires waiting half an hour for the water heater to warm up (there is warm water available via solar tank, but sometimes I just really want hot water). Left the space heater in the bathroom and closed the door, which meant by the time I was out of the shower, it wasn't deathly cold, but almost...almost...temperate.
Walked down towards Dar Annadwa; stopped to talk to Alan, a local shopkeeper, for a while, and enjoyed a delicious carrot while we watched absolutely zero tourists and shoppers walk by.
Dear Potential Tourists: Unless you see on the news the words "Intifada," "West Bank on Fire," or one of these words -- "Israel," "Palestine," "Syria," -- used in conjunction with the phrase "has gone (very) insane," there is no reason to not travel to the Holy Lands. Ever wanted holy sites to yourself? Now is the perfect time. And the economy here needs you. For many people, tourism is the only industry they've got left.
Did I mention the carrot was delicious?
Had a hot shower, which requires waiting half an hour for the water heater to warm up (there is warm water available via solar tank, but sometimes I just really want hot water). Left the space heater in the bathroom and closed the door, which meant by the time I was out of the shower, it wasn't deathly cold, but almost...almost...temperate.
Walked down towards Dar Annadwa; stopped to talk to Alan, a local shopkeeper, for a while, and enjoyed a delicious carrot while we watched absolutely zero tourists and shoppers walk by.
Dear Potential Tourists: Unless you see on the news the words "Intifada," "West Bank on Fire," or one of these words -- "Israel," "Palestine," "Syria," -- used in conjunction with the phrase "has gone (very) insane," there is no reason to not travel to the Holy Lands. Ever wanted holy sites to yourself? Now is the perfect time. And the economy here needs you. For many people, tourism is the only industry they've got left.
Did I mention the carrot was delicious?
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Real Madrid 3 - Manchester United 1
I'm in Tel Aviv. I'm not entirely sure why.
Let me back up.
For the past week, I've been trying to track down a mobile/cellular internet card for my laptop, as there is zero internet in my apartment. I finally found a company that covers Bethlehem, but they won't deliver there. Nor will they deliver to the LWF compound in Jerusalem. I guess that was my initial excuse for taking a day trip to Tel Aviv, so that I could give them a "safe" address.
What's the real reason? I guess I missed 'civilization', at least as I've come to know it.
So, I hopped the #21 from Bethlehem, did the dance at the checkpoint (everybody off the bus, stand in line, passports out, checked one at a time), and made my way to Jerusalem. Off at Damascus Gate, pay way too much for a taxi to the train station, all the way assuring the cab driver that, no, I did not feel like paying 300 NIS to have him drive me to Tel Aviv.
Onto the train, and no sleeping, because none of the announcements are in English, so I have to crane my neck to find the one sign on each platform that had the stop's name in English.
Arrive in Tel Aviv, wander around for fifteen minutes, finally find the right bus. The bus driver claims the stop I want isn't a real stop. I get on anyway..what's the worst that could happen? Get lost in a strange city halfway across the world wherein I speak neither of the languages spoken?
I could deal with that.
Fast forward, I didn't get lost, and I'm at a bar across from the US Embassy called "Mike's Place." The real reason I came...to sit at a bar, eat a burger, have a beer and talk to a bartender in fluent, unbroken American English. My bartender's name is Elad. We talk a little, small talk, the usual. I'm from DC, he's from Israel, by way of New York. It explains his accent, or rather, lack thereof. He asks if I'm with Birthright, I explain I'm Christian. Conversation continues. I hide my disgust at hearing the name "Birthright," and he hides his distrust of anyone who will be spending a large amount of time in the West Bank. We bury our real emotions underneath the veneer of barroom camaraderie...either that, or we honestly just get along despite our differences. One and a half weeks here and I've already started to default to assuming that everyone is secretly disapproving of everyone else. Welcome to the Holy Lands, eh?
I sit, and drink my Paulaner. I was excited to find it on draft..but this tastes like a hefeweizen rather than a helles. I have my burger. It's huge, and the kitchen understands what a real 'rare' burger looks like. I watch soccer (football...oy) on the television. Real Madrid vs. Manchester United. About twenty minutes in, Beckham's name flashes by on a red jersey, and I realize I must be watching the Israeli equivalent of ESPN Classics. I continue to watch anyway.
I catch myself staring at the Red Bull sign, written in Hebrew, and hearing the mix of Hebrew and English pass around me. Burger's done, and beer's gone. I pay out and leave. Halfway home, I realize I'm walking feet from the beach (and the Atlantic), underneath exotic trees in a country halfway around the world, and I'm not even paying attention. In Tel Aviv it is all to easy to forget you're not home..it looks so normal. So real, so modern. And yet, there's something nagging. Something that's been nagging since the bar.
I'd manufactured this trip. I wanted to replicate what, at home, would've been just another night, but here, had to go two hours and half a country out of my way. As comforting as it might feel for a moment, it catches up to me, and it is all the more apparent just how fabricated it all has been.
To anyone who's worked with me on a show, or seen one of my shows, since about 2001, I apologize, but my "ridiculous obsession withlove the real" has yet to subside. It makes for an interesting study in this land; a land where (I believe) the Great Real became even more real, and yet, now, everything -- from the Western makeup of the "secular city," to the charade of security at checkpoints, to the 'friendship' for an American, from impoverished storekeepers and cab drivers in an occupied country -- everything has a glossy shine of falsehood.
Let me back up.
For the past week, I've been trying to track down a mobile/cellular internet card for my laptop, as there is zero internet in my apartment. I finally found a company that covers Bethlehem, but they won't deliver there. Nor will they deliver to the LWF compound in Jerusalem. I guess that was my initial excuse for taking a day trip to Tel Aviv, so that I could give them a "safe" address.
What's the real reason? I guess I missed 'civilization', at least as I've come to know it.
So, I hopped the #21 from Bethlehem, did the dance at the checkpoint (everybody off the bus, stand in line, passports out, checked one at a time), and made my way to Jerusalem. Off at Damascus Gate, pay way too much for a taxi to the train station, all the way assuring the cab driver that, no, I did not feel like paying 300 NIS to have him drive me to Tel Aviv.
Onto the train, and no sleeping, because none of the announcements are in English, so I have to crane my neck to find the one sign on each platform that had the stop's name in English.
Arrive in Tel Aviv, wander around for fifteen minutes, finally find the right bus. The bus driver claims the stop I want isn't a real stop. I get on anyway..what's the worst that could happen? Get lost in a strange city halfway across the world wherein I speak neither of the languages spoken?
I could deal with that.
Fast forward, I didn't get lost, and I'm at a bar across from the US Embassy called "Mike's Place." The real reason I came...to sit at a bar, eat a burger, have a beer and talk to a bartender in fluent, unbroken American English. My bartender's name is Elad. We talk a little, small talk, the usual. I'm from DC, he's from Israel, by way of New York. It explains his accent, or rather, lack thereof. He asks if I'm with Birthright, I explain I'm Christian. Conversation continues. I hide my disgust at hearing the name "Birthright," and he hides his distrust of anyone who will be spending a large amount of time in the West Bank. We bury our real emotions underneath the veneer of barroom camaraderie...either that, or we honestly just get along despite our differences. One and a half weeks here and I've already started to default to assuming that everyone is secretly disapproving of everyone else. Welcome to the Holy Lands, eh?
I sit, and drink my Paulaner. I was excited to find it on draft..but this tastes like a hefeweizen rather than a helles. I have my burger. It's huge, and the kitchen understands what a real 'rare' burger looks like. I watch soccer (football...oy) on the television. Real Madrid vs. Manchester United. About twenty minutes in, Beckham's name flashes by on a red jersey, and I realize I must be watching the Israeli equivalent of ESPN Classics. I continue to watch anyway.
I catch myself staring at the Red Bull sign, written in Hebrew, and hearing the mix of Hebrew and English pass around me. Burger's done, and beer's gone. I pay out and leave. Halfway home, I realize I'm walking feet from the beach (and the Atlantic), underneath exotic trees in a country halfway around the world, and I'm not even paying attention. In Tel Aviv it is all to easy to forget you're not home..it looks so normal. So real, so modern. And yet, there's something nagging. Something that's been nagging since the bar.
I'd manufactured this trip. I wanted to replicate what, at home, would've been just another night, but here, had to go two hours and half a country out of my way. As comforting as it might feel for a moment, it catches up to me, and it is all the more apparent just how fabricated it all has been.
To anyone who's worked with me on a show, or seen one of my shows, since about 2001, I apologize, but my "ridiculous obsession with
Monday, January 12, 2009
Bishops, Bishops Everywhere
So.... the bishops are here. ELCA, ELCC, and ELCJHL, all cavorting and frolicking through the holy lands
I was able to attend service at Our Redeemer (the Lutheran church in Bethlehem) yesterday, for a joint English-Arabic service. It was heartening to hear Bishop Hanson (presiding Bishop, ELCA) speak so passionately on behalf of Palestine and peace, and inspiring to receive communion from Bishop Younan (Bishop, ELCJHL).
Still settling into the apartment. Still working on the internet issue, although Dar Annadwa seems to have capitulated and no longer asks me to leave. I think it has to do with me being in the cafe now rather than the lobby. (Have I mentioned Taybeh yet? It's delicious.)
There are 38 students in the 5th grade class at Beit Sahour. Ahhhhhhhhhh.
Is it sad that the 3rd graders there speak better English than I do Arabic?
I seem to have made a friend. Josef, a cab driver, who now insists on driving me from the 21 bus to my apartment. This would be, keep in mind, all of about a fifteen minute walk. Yesterday he took me to meet his friend who runs a gift shop downtown. Oh, the joys of being an American in an impoverished country. I can't seem to explain to them that I'm in debt up to my eyeballs and can't afford to prop up the Bethlehem economy on my own, try as I might (and they need it...Gaza is keeping tourists away. Which is stupid.)
I am accepting gifts of TV on DVD. I'm almost done with season 1 of the IT Crowd, and if I don't replenish my supply soon I will be forced to watch whatever tripe is on one of the FOX stations (although I have now officially caught up on all those Ben Stiller movies I missed. I was right. I wasn't missing much.)
Last night a child positioned himself so that I couldn't shut my outer door while he repeatedly begged for change. Unfortunately, there's no one around from whom I could find out if he actually needs it. He hangs around the corner store by my alley, and the lady inside has told me not to give to him, but there's always motivations apart from the obvious. I figure a shekel a day, times about 170, divided by 3.5 would come out to about fifty bucks for the duration, but I'm afraid of starting something that could snowball.
Hopefully, when I acquire internet in my home, I'll be able to post these things when I'm being introspective, and not just when I'm listening to Al-Jazeera in Arabic while typing on a tiny laptop. (and I mean tiny. This thing is awesome, but typing is a bit of a learning experience.)
Peace.
I was able to attend service at Our Redeemer (the Lutheran church in Bethlehem) yesterday, for a joint English-Arabic service. It was heartening to hear Bishop Hanson (presiding Bishop, ELCA) speak so passionately on behalf of Palestine and peace, and inspiring to receive communion from Bishop Younan (Bishop, ELCJHL).
Still settling into the apartment. Still working on the internet issue, although Dar Annadwa seems to have capitulated and no longer asks me to leave. I think it has to do with me being in the cafe now rather than the lobby. (Have I mentioned Taybeh yet? It's delicious.)
There are 38 students in the 5th grade class at Beit Sahour. Ahhhhhhhhhh.
Is it sad that the 3rd graders there speak better English than I do Arabic?
I seem to have made a friend. Josef, a cab driver, who now insists on driving me from the 21 bus to my apartment. This would be, keep in mind, all of about a fifteen minute walk. Yesterday he took me to meet his friend who runs a gift shop downtown. Oh, the joys of being an American in an impoverished country. I can't seem to explain to them that I'm in debt up to my eyeballs and can't afford to prop up the Bethlehem economy on my own, try as I might (and they need it...Gaza is keeping tourists away. Which is stupid.)
I am accepting gifts of TV on DVD. I'm almost done with season 1 of the IT Crowd, and if I don't replenish my supply soon I will be forced to watch whatever tripe is on one of the FOX stations (although I have now officially caught up on all those Ben Stiller movies I missed. I was right. I wasn't missing much.)
Last night a child positioned himself so that I couldn't shut my outer door while he repeatedly begged for change. Unfortunately, there's no one around from whom I could find out if he actually needs it. He hangs around the corner store by my alley, and the lady inside has told me not to give to him, but there's always motivations apart from the obvious. I figure a shekel a day, times about 170, divided by 3.5 would come out to about fifty bucks for the duration, but I'm afraid of starting something that could snowball.
Hopefully, when I acquire internet in my home, I'll be able to post these things when I'm being introspective, and not just when I'm listening to Al-Jazeera in Arabic while typing on a tiny laptop. (and I mean tiny. This thing is awesome, but typing is a bit of a learning experience.)
Peace.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Throw Away Your Television
So, I have yet to acquire internet in my apartment here, which has led me to try and find other diversions. Monday, I decided to see what was on my NILESAT satellite tv other than BBC World. For some reason, I figured that going through each channel individually would be a great idea.
At first, I began by simply writing down any channel I found with English content....and it all went downhill from there.
(For the sake of not breaking anyone's RSS feed -- or eyes -- I've posted the List here.)
At first, I began by simply writing down any channel I found with English content....and it all went downhill from there.
(For the sake of not breaking anyone's RSS feed -- or eyes -- I've posted the List here.)
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
So This Is Christmas...
... again.
Today's Christmas (rather, "Nativity of our Lord") for the Armenians, followed by another Nativity tomorrow for the Orthodox at large. For a few days, at least, the bells of the Church of the Nativity are going toe-to-toe with the calls to prayer.
Spent yesterday with Sr. Sylvia, getting to know some of the kids at the two schools by sitting in on talks given by Tim Frakes. (The Lutherans among you may know Tim's work, if you've ever watched 'Mosaic,' the ELCA's old video program, or seen Dr. Stjerna's program on Katie Luther). Tim no longer works for ELCA Churchwide, but his passion for exploring faith seems unabated. He's a great guy to talk to, and intensely dedicated to justice and peace... if you have a moment, visit http://www.frakesproductions.com and check out his shots from his trip to Palestine/Israel.
My apartment is like nothing I could've envisioned. I'm staying in the house where the mother of the husband of one of Beit Sahour's kindergarden teachers was raised. (Follow that? Good.) The rooms are huge, if unheated. Me and my lone space heater are quick becoming best of friends. I'll post a video tour as soon as my camera gets juiced up -- it'll give me a chance to try some techniques gleaned from Tim's workshops.
I have no internet in the apartment yet..not sure if that will change or not. I'm going to try. At the moment I'm sitting in the lobby of the International Center at Christmas Church (the Lutheran congregation in Bethlehem.)
Got a chance to hang out with Mike (from Trinity Seminary, now interning in Jerusalem) on Sunday, and meeting up with more ELCA folks on Friday night, I think. Until then, I've got a week on my own to bumble around Bethlehem, trying to figure out how to say "I need to buy a towel."
Because I do. Whoops.
I'm going to refrain on talking Gaza right now, because if you're anything like me you're probably overloaded. Of course, it might just be me, given that 24-hour news is the most interesting channel available on my television. (For more television adventures, tune in to a future post, where I reveal the results of yesterday's marathon "Try Every Channel Available" test run.)
I'm out. Hungry. More later.
p.s. Huh...just realized I'd labeled these as "Israel" rather than "Palestine." How non-factual of me. Redacted.
Today's Christmas (rather, "Nativity of our Lord") for the Armenians, followed by another Nativity tomorrow for the Orthodox at large. For a few days, at least, the bells of the Church of the Nativity are going toe-to-toe with the calls to prayer.
Spent yesterday with Sr. Sylvia, getting to know some of the kids at the two schools by sitting in on talks given by Tim Frakes. (The Lutherans among you may know Tim's work, if you've ever watched 'Mosaic,' the ELCA's old video program, or seen Dr. Stjerna's program on Katie Luther). Tim no longer works for ELCA Churchwide, but his passion for exploring faith seems unabated. He's a great guy to talk to, and intensely dedicated to justice and peace... if you have a moment, visit http://www.frakesproductions.com and check out his shots from his trip to Palestine/Israel.
My apartment is like nothing I could've envisioned. I'm staying in the house where the mother of the husband of one of Beit Sahour's kindergarden teachers was raised. (Follow that? Good.) The rooms are huge, if unheated. Me and my lone space heater are quick becoming best of friends. I'll post a video tour as soon as my camera gets juiced up -- it'll give me a chance to try some techniques gleaned from Tim's workshops.
I have no internet in the apartment yet..not sure if that will change or not. I'm going to try. At the moment I'm sitting in the lobby of the International Center at Christmas Church (the Lutheran congregation in Bethlehem.)
Got a chance to hang out with Mike (from Trinity Seminary, now interning in Jerusalem) on Sunday, and meeting up with more ELCA folks on Friday night, I think. Until then, I've got a week on my own to bumble around Bethlehem, trying to figure out how to say "I need to buy a towel."
Because I do. Whoops.
I'm going to refrain on talking Gaza right now, because if you're anything like me you're probably overloaded. Of course, it might just be me, given that 24-hour news is the most interesting channel available on my television. (For more television adventures, tune in to a future post, where I reveal the results of yesterday's marathon "Try Every Channel Available" test run.)
I'm out. Hungry. More later.
p.s. Huh...just realized I'd labeled these as "Israel" rather than "Palestine." How non-factual of me. Redacted.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Holy Lands...
... holy shit.
It finally dawned on me, on the plane ride over, that I'd agreed to move halfway across the world.
I'm here. Safe. No troubles, no "Fun with Immigration Services" like last time. I'm in Jerusalem tonight, Bethlehem tomorrow.
It's begun.
Here I am. (God help me.)
It finally dawned on me, on the plane ride over, that I'd agreed to move halfway across the world.
I'm here. Safe. No troubles, no "Fun with Immigration Services" like last time. I'm in Jerusalem tonight, Bethlehem tomorrow.
It's begun.
Here I am. (God help me.)
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