June 12, 2002

When the Israeli army enters, this can be the result (a friend’s kitchen window, shot through by an Israeli tank shell).

Last night wasn’t the night. No army incursion, thankfully. We caught a taxi and headed back towards Zababdeh, expecting to walk the twenty minutes downhill. Somehow, in two days enough people have persisted that the road is now - vaguely - drivable. Unfortunately, we didn't leave from the garage, so our taxi dropped us off at the top of the hill. We began to walk down, hoping to find a ride at the bottom.

As we walked, a white van with yellow (Israeli) plates drove past. "Do you want a ride?" one asked is flawless English.

"Sure!"

As we got in, one of the young men said, "Hello, pastor," in Arabic.

It wasn't anyone we knew, and even though Marthame's collar is a dead giveaway to Christians, the 98% of Palestinians who are Muslim rarely catch that clue. Then we began to notice the van's decorations - the word "Jesus" written in English on the dashboard, a cross hanging from the rear view mirror, a picture of Mary, a Christian song on the tape deck...The four young men inside were Jerusalemite Palestinian Christians, members of the Christian Missionary Alliance church, headed up to Zababdeh to bring gifts to some of the families of the village. Many moments in this place would make great short stories - this was one of them.

We arrived back in Zababdeh, thankful for our Providential (and air-conditioned!) ride, just in time to take care of some English translation work for various folks in the village. Given our imminent departure, many are anxious to visit - it’ll be a busy few days.