Things that did and did not suck this Christmas.

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Homesickness. 

For some reason it was worse this year than last year.  I’m not sure why.  Maybe it’s being around young people whose families had extensive Skype conversations with them, or the fact that when Michael called the connection wasn’t good today in Bethlehem, or maybe it’s not having children around.  I don’t know, but it sucked

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Collegiality.  The CPTers in Tuwani and Hebron were enjoying each other so much at yesterday’s Christmas feast that we completely lost track of time and had to rush through worship and the gift exchange (I ended up with a jar of Nutella.)

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Having to rush through worship and having an asthma attack on the way to the special cave that Sarah had picked out for us to sing Silent Night in.

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Looking over the rolling Judean hills dotted with little villages that probably didn’t look far different in Jesus’ times, while listening to the story of the Nativity in Luke.

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Waking up with a migraine.

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The look on a little boy’s face when I gave him 5 shekels and then told him I didn’t want the Q-tips he was trying to sell me.  I was giving him the money because it was Christmas.

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Mass at St. Catherine’s

St. Catherine’s is a living church connected to the Church of the Nativity—which is mostly just a holy site, although Orthodox monks do something there together.  But even though there were people for whom this was obviously a wonderful experience, I couldn’t get past all the photojournalists pushing and shoving worshippers out of the way.  There was a young Filipina woman, who sank to her knees in great reverence at the point where the bread is supposed to become the body of Christ and she was practically trample by men with oversized cameras.  I was thinking if she came from the Philippines, especially to be in Bethlehem at Christmas, this may have been a once in a lifetime experience for her, or if she was a home health aide or servant in Israel, this may have been a brief respite from long hours with little pay, something to help her own homesickness, and she deserved better.  (Paulette was a little bummed out by the whole men-in-robes-who-are-considered-more-worthwhile-than-ordinary-Christians thing, and the fact that people automatically gave their seats to nuns.  “If anything they should have been giving their seats to other people,” she said.)  I actually took Eucharist, even though as a non-Catholic I’m not supposed to, to be in solidarity with the worshippers who were losing ground to those there for the spectacle.

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The way that the Palestinian congregants brought their children up for the Eucharist, and the priest put the golden bowl full of the host on their heads as a blessing.  Seeing people from 5-6 continents (can’t pick out Australians by sight) excited and happy about being in the putative place of Jesus’ birth.

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Being overcharged for a shawerma plate lunch (although maybe that was the “Christmas in Bethlehem” surcharge.)  Then going to the Milk Grotto (the exact place where Mary nursed Jesus on their way to Egypt) and seeing children holding attack helicopter balloons.

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Seeing Diana and Grace Zoughbi, whom Wendy and I stayed with when we did the background research that became the Hebron project.  Visiting people is the key part of Christmas for Palestinian Christians, so it was nice for me to be able to give the new people on the team that experience.

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Getting on the Bethlehem-Hebron bus, driven by a really talented guy who was able to make a U-turn with the bus to avoid a military checkpoint.  And then having a cup of fresh-squeezed pomegranate juice walking back to our apt.

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Sitting inside the juice shop and seeing footage of women dancing in Beirut that was sleazy even by U.S. standards.  By Hebron standards, the women might as well as been having sex.  Deciding that the smell of sewage outside was better than sitting inside.

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More collegiality

Tonight Laura and Sarah were in from Tuwani.  We played Carcasson, which I still don’t really understand and then they and Markie gave a spirited rendition of the 12 Days of Tuwani Christmas (12 settlers leaving, 11shepherds standing, 10 Taboun bread, 9 children playing, 8 chickens squawking, 7 sheep a munching, 6 donkeys braying, 5 cups of tea, 4 mobile phones, 3 cameras, 2 binoculars and a tiny house for all of CPT.)

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The Occupation, and the fact that a big chunk of the folks at home have been led to believe Bethlehem is in Israel, despite the fact that 70-80% of Israelis, all Palestinians, and International Law say it isn’t.

For those of you interested in Markie’s experience, the internet has gone wonky again here, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to upload photos.  I guess that's a - too.