Since it was New Year's Eve, the usual dinner was postponed until later in the evening for a spectacular banquet with all kinds of meats and cheeses and delicacies and desserts.

We spent most of the day in Coptic Cairo. Centered around Mar Girgis church (St. George's), this is Cairo's Old City and is where many of its historical churches are.

Today was spent with our friends, but that didn't mean that we didn't get our share of sight-seeing in.

Today we did one thing: the Egypt Museum.

Our resting place for the time we are here is Evangelical Theological Seminary in Cairo.

Seems appropriate somehow to leave the troubled land of Palestine/Israel after Christmas with a little jaunt to Egypt, as Mary and Joseph saw fit to do.

Christmas morning also means worship.

Greeting everyone with Merry Christmas was a wonderful gift to us.

Marthame managed to infect the laptop with a particularly nasty virus, one which arrives when the computer is dropped on the marble floor.

Roswell Presbyterian Church, one of our supporting congregations, sponsored a Christmas party for the children.

Baba and Mama Noel were on their way to the hall in Zababdeh to distribute gifts to the children!

Marthame then headed off with the Christian men of the village to greet the sheikh of Zababdeh in recognition of 'Eid al-Fitir.

Today is much the same as yesterday - no telephone, no internet; we feel so cut-off from the world.

The whole time we were there, we could hear the sound of various weapons swirling around the area - tanks, airplanes, etc. But life was calm in the hills.

Our friend, who recently had a baby, offered us a traditional beverage called qurfe, made of walnuts, cinnamon, and sugar.

There is something relaxing about being out in the mountains, though the symbolism of finding a dying olive tree wasn't lost on us.

We have also been watching the film biography of Ghandi, a compelling telling of his life.

Today did bring good news, as Elizabeth successfully defended her Master's Thesis!

At the end, the men left the church, carrying the body to the graveyard for the burial.

The church bell rang as classes were dismissed today, marking the death of someone in the parish.

One of the up sides of having Jenin closed is that we can avail ourselves of the teachers at the school of the Arab-American University (they've been closed during the recent siege).

There was something very powerful about having our intercessions mixed with those representing others in the parish, then combined with body and blood to be shared and internalized by all - very welcoming, affirming, embracing.

It's Friday, which means it's our weeknd (that's half a weekend).

People in Zababdeh are generally aware that there are now foreigners living here and nearby, but rarely are we seen in big groups.

Very tired. No sign that the situation is improving.

We got together with friends from the Arab-American University of Jenin tonight.

Given the news that all Israeli-controlled roads in the West Bank are off-limits to Palestinian traffic, it seems like we need to plan for a longer haul than before.

The younger kids, remembering yesterday's trauma, were scared to leave the bus. Elizabeth carried one small boy, who couldn't negotiate the last step off the bus by himself. He was crying as Elizabeth brought him to a taxi.

The buses re-approached the tanks, and as Abuna Aktham stepped down from the bus to speak with the soldiers, they fired several shots.