While Marthame watched the mechanic at work, two Palestinian soldiers pulled up and asked the mechanic questions about him: "Is he Jewish? A settler? An Israeli?"

Marthame's route took him down the Jordan Valley, which is where the brakes went out on the Citroen.

Even though it's only half an hour's drive from Zababdeh, no one here can make the trip these days because of the closures (many can't even get to Ramallah), so several times we have found ourselves couriers for various things, including medicine and birthday presents.

The event was not without its sobering moment, though, as moments were taken to remember the mothers who had lost children during the Intifada.

This morning we met the head of the Bible Society of Jordan, snugly located in one of Amman's beautiful neighborhoods.

Amman is an interesting mix between East and West. Clearly Arab and clearly a monarchy (King Abdallah's pictures are everywhere), nonetheless almost every street sign and storefront is bilingual - the years of British influence have clearly left their mark.

We have been hoping since we arrived that we would be able to visit some of the other Arab countries around us. One of the obstacles is the Israeli stamp in our passport. With the exception of Jordan and Egypt, no Arab country will accept a passport (or the person attached to it) that contains the Israeli stamp.

The seventh grade teachers decided to take them on a walk through the mountains for a nice picnic. We tagged along.

The World Vision group came to the school assembly that morning, to share words of encouragement and to get a further tour of the school and the new hall (where the old hall once was) now under construction.

"I'm not allowed to tell you this," he said, "but the problem there is the Israeli settlers - not the Palestinians."

A late Sunday afternoon walk in the mountain with our friends.

It's clear that a strong relationship of trust and mutual respect has been cultivated, as they discussed particular passage in the Qur'an and the Bible.

As we passed, the gun went off - we all ducked in reflex, but the car was untouched - not sure about the two boys who apparently posed a great security risk. Only one word can describe the scene we witnessed - obscenity.

Today is the Jewish festival of Purim, which celebrates the liberation of the Jews in Persia from the evil Haman who sought to destroy them. It also celebrates the murder of the enemies of the Jews and the hanging of the sons of Haman. A reveler in the New City decided that the parallel held up between Haman and Arafat, and decided to let everyone know.

When we reached the split road of Kfar Darom, the bottleneck of Palestinian taxis was overwhelming. But even worse was the loud "boom" we heard as we passed the Israeli tank (at least one gun is always pointed at the traffic) - turned out to be from an airplane, probably, but not the noise you want to hear then.