April 4, 2003

There are no tourists at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre these days.

We checked in with the Zababdeh taxi drivers - the curfew was lifted, and the checkpoints along the way were reasonable. We had some time to kill before meeting our ride, and ran a few errands - picking up mail at the Latin Patriarchate, Orthodox candles at the supply shop near the Holy Sepulchre - before going in to pray at the Holy Sepulchre. As usual, the lines were non-existent. We had plenty of time to pray alone in what many consider the most holy place on earth. Unbelievable. We prayed fervently for peace, for the reign of resurrection. There couldn't be a better place for it.

Elizabeth speaks with two of the WCC volunteers while we wait to pass another checkpoint.

We met up with the taxi at Qalandia, sharing the ride north with three folks from Zababdeh and two members of the newly-arrived World Council of Churches' team. Since we had helped to bring them to Zababdeh, they were particularly happy that we were returning. The ride passed through the now-familiar checkpoints of Ma'ale Ephraim and Hamra - the first long and drawn out, mostly because a Canadian Israeli soldier took an interest in the foreigners who were traveling. It was our bags that were opened and us who were asked the questions, while everyone else simply stood around and waited for it all to pass. Once we were on our way, the driver told us, "I'm glad he did that to you. Do you know why? Because it's your taxes that are paying for him to be here!" Fair enough...

School busses have seen better days, but there’s little impetus for repair at the moment.

At Hamra checkpoint we barely stopped, and we whisked home, stopping in nearby 'Aqaba to buy meat from their famous local butcher shop (best, freshest meat in the region, we're told). We arrived in Zababdeh and found ourselves facing two jeeps which were blocking the road. A soldier waved us away, and we obliged, backing up and taking an alternate route. A short altercation took place later between the boys and the soldiers in jeeps, but we were happily in our apartment. Home again.

Once snug, we immediately began sending around messages that we were back. One reply said it best: "Welcome home among your brothers & sisters." Despite our exhaustion, we went out to see some friends and to generally be seen around town. People welcomed us back warmly, all greeting us with, ilhamdulillah 'as-salame (literally, praise God for safety). And even when we heard the tanks coming over the hills, as we have become used to, we still knew we were in the right place.