April 3, 2003 — Mudeif Productions

*Israeli military activity in Zababdeh.*

As soon as we awoke, the breaking news came in from ZNN. The spelling may have varied, but the message was clear:

"the soldiers calling for curfew now";
"Zababdei under carfue";
"Soldiers declared curfew in zababbdeh now and it's full of soldiers and tanks now, y? nothing clear yet";
"don't hurry we have carefew...2day";
"i think the curfew in zabab is a welcome back for you guys especially from our army friends : ) "

As we pieced the story together, we learned that all the roads to the village were sealed off in the morning. At school, the Zababdeh teachers and students came in for a scaled-back day. At 9:00, a jeep passed by the school announcing the curfew. When they passed by again, Fr. Aktham went out to meet them and to explain to them that there were 500 students in the school who needed to get home. The captain agreed to allow half an hour grace period for the kids to get home. It was done, kids hustling home fearfully as tanks and soldiers were patrolling the streets already. A great day to go back, we thought. (note: while we rarely post pictures we don't take ourselves, it seemed fitting to do so here)

We met up with the Presbyterians, who are waiting for their word from Louisville tonight. Together, we ventured down to the archbishop's bookshop, our best and last bet for icons. No such luck, but did find some lovely paper prints of icons. We were given a free box of Orthodox incense, too.

*Greeting the owner’s family at the Greek restaurant.*

It was suggested that we check out a Greek restaurant down the street. What a thought: Greek food in Cyprus! We were not disappointed - a lovely little family-owned operation. We left having thoroughly savored about half the menu.

Later on, we bid farewell to our Egyptian counterparts and took a taxi to Larnaca to the airport for our late night flight, which apparently had been canceled by Cyprus Airways. No problem: another was leaving an hour later, on El Al. The drama of Israeli security soon began. A special section set up and roped off, carefully monitored, special Hebrew-speaking security people lined up. We were asked the usual questions: What are you doing in Israel? Has anyone given you anything to carry? Are you carrying a gun or any other weapon? Though we appreciated the need for the last question, we couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of us packing heat.

We checked in and made our way to the departure lounge, where the drama continued. All other airlines had their departure gate posted - that is, except El Al. Twenty minutes before the flight, a man came to the lounge and began announcing the gate (but not on the loudspeaker system). We weren't sure if these special security measures made us feel extra safe or extra-endangered. We lined up, sitting next to a chatty New Jersey Israeli. We were too tired to talk, but not as tired as we'd be eventually.

*Signs toward the hotel’s sealed room, in case of chemical attack.*

We arrived at Tel Aviv near midnight, hoping to find a shared taxi to Jerusalem. After a long wait, we did, splitting the fare with another person on their way there, banging our way into the Notre Dame Hotel (complete with sealed room in case of chemical attack) at 2:00 in the morning. Needless to say, they were not pleased, but our status as Latin Patriarchate volunteers and our passable Arabic helped. It's not like we really cared at 2:00 in the morning what other people thought of us - as long as they gave us a bed. Heck, for a couch we would've kissed their feet.