recognizing shades of my own...

For a while now I have been researching and creating a database about the grafitti that is on the separation barrier here in Palestine. I have been trying to take a deeper look at exactly what message the various artists are trying to convey and to whom. Through my research I discovered an organization based out of the Netherlands that has set up a website for people wishing to relay a message in a special way involving paying 30 Euro to have a sentence or two spraypainted on the separation barrier, and then having a picture or two of the finished product e-mailed to them or a person of their choice. A part of the proceeds goes to the minimal staff and materials costs while the rest is distributed to small Palestinian NGOs. Such a concept, I thought the first time I heard - you can write a message of love, of peace, or frustration, or of your favorite falafel recipe, and in any language. Perfect!

A couple of weeks ago I heard about a new project that the "sendamessage" crew and the Peace and Freedom Youth Forum had teamed up to do. They set out to paint a nearly 2,000 word letter, written by a S. African scholar comparing the situation in Palestine to South African apartheid, on the wall that will eventually stretch some 2,600 meters in length. In order to fund the project and to raise money for Palestine each section of the barrier can be sponsored for 20 Euros. More information is at http://www.sendamessage.nl/the-longest-letter/


Last week I read that the project was looking for volunteers to come help. Hearing this, I didn't hesitate to make the call as again it is something that I have interested in for awhile now. To make a long story short, I ended spending my entire weekend at the separation barrier with a great team that consisted of Faris, Yousef, Raji, Faris (the other one), Rana, and for part of one of the days, V.

Faris, Faris, and Raji were in charge of painting the white background with long paint rollers. Myself, Rana, and Yousef (V too) sorted the letters and painted each segment one by one with the words of the letter. The process went something like this: Yousef would climb the ladder, Rana would read off what letters or words were needed, myself and V would sort through the stencils to find the correct letters, put them in order and then hand them to Yousef, who in turn would take a can of black spray paint and paint the letters on the wall and then hand the stencils back to us before moving the ladder to the next section where we would start all over again. Each section contains only 7 characters so you can imagine how tedious the process is. Regardless, it was actually quite fun and it felt really good to be outside being productive.

On Friday, there were several media units there. Some were taking pictures, some were conducting interviews, and one was even making a documentary. As the only foreigner or "ajnabiyya" there in the morning, I was interviewed by 2 television news units - 1 from MBC and one from Bahrain. Later in the day, V and I were both interviewed for the documentary. The next day, according to Faris, I was on Al-Arabiya news. This was confirmed later by a man in a car who said he saw me on TV and Amira the next day who told me she saw me as well. So I guess I was on Arabic television. Strange!

I ended up spending about 6 hours the first day and 7 hours the second day helping out. I honestly had a blast and it was nice to feel that I was part of something so big and something that means so much to the Palestinians. I will go back every weekend until it is finished - it is supposed to be done by "Nakba Day," which is on May 15th. One of the interviewers asked me if I was a peace activist and I said "no, I definitely don't consider myself a peace activist" - however I do believe that more people should know about the separation barrier, or apartheid wall as it is sometimes called, and what is going on here, and if my helping with this project will allow for the message to spread to the masses, then so be it.

Sept al-Noor

The Saturday before last was a special Christian holiday in Ramallah - Sept al-Noor. It is the day before Easter (going by the Orthodox calendar) and every year there is a big celebration in the city center that consists of all the boyscout marching bands from the villages surrounding Ramallah parading down the main street near Al-Manara Square. The parade is celebrating the arrival of the "holy fire" from Jerusalem. Obtaining the 'fire' to bring to Ramallah used to be fairly easy as the Church of the Holy Supulchre in the Old City of Jerusalem is just a short 15 miles away; however with the checkpoints that now exist, the trip can take an unpredictable amount of time - the upside being that it builds the anticipation of the crowd waiting in Ramallah.

Around 3PM I started to hear the first sounds of the marching bands in the distance. It was difficult to figure out how far away they were, but after about 20 minutes I could see them heading west on Rukab Street. For the next hour or so, about a dozen boyscout troops passed by in their various and well-planned uniforms playing their drums, horn instruments, and bagpipes! I especially liked how almost every group implemented the kheffiyeh, being a national symbol of Palestine, into their uniforms. It goes to show what pride they take in their heritage.

When the holy fire arrived, everyone gathered round to light their own lantern or candle or light and then they took off to their various churches all around Ramallah to continue in their own activities. There was a big commotion as the mayor of Ramallah, who is a devout Christian herself, arrived carrying her light. Soon afterwards there was a huge crowd of people dancing, singing, and clapping about how Christ had risen and how Jesus was the savior. Everyone in Ramallah and beyond came to see this event and both Muslims and Christians alike were enjoying themselves. It is hard to describe the atmosphere that day other than saying it was one of elation and celebration. To be in a city of that is traditionally Christian, but is currently of Muslim majority, celebrating in such a manner was unreal.

Nabi Musa and Beyond

A couple Fridays ago I went with O, V, S, Ghada, and Ma'moun to the opening ceremonies for the Nabi Musa festival. I mentioned this place previously as the location that Muslims believe the Prophet Moses to be buried and that was once a popular place of rest for Muslims on long journeys. When we came around the corner on the desert road that leads to Nabi Musa, we were all very shocked at the amount of cars and busses parked around the complex. The amount of people there was incredible and I could really sense how it must have been hundreds of years ago during its heyday. We walked into a carnival like atmosphere of children riding camels, and sweets and ice cream being sold. Once inside the courtyard we saw an imam getting prepared to give the Friday "sermon" to dozens of men sitting expectantly on their prayer mats. Although it was an open area, it was clear that women were not supposed to be in the front part of the courtyard so we made our way back to the women only area where we could watch as discretely as possible.

All the various rooms that used to serve as places of rest for weary travellers were filled to the brim with families who had brought food and drink and games for the children. They even put blankets up in the entrances so as to give themselves some privacy as the activities of the day unfolded around them. After the imam was finished and the prayers had been prayed there was a parade by the local boyscouts and then a performance by a traditional music group. Being there, at a Muslim holy site, in the midst of Muslims from all over Palestine, admittedly made me feel a little uncomfortable. I felt that I was somehow invading their space. Despite this feeling, I love to experience things such as this celebration at Nabi Musa. It makes me appreciate being part of something that not many people get to see.

After some time at Nabi Musa, O decided it would be a good idea to go 4x4ing in the desert only to scare the s*** out of the everyone in the car. Nonetheless it made for some incredible views that we wouldn't have seen otherwise.

Our original plan was to have a bbq at a beautiful monastery very near Jericho, but closer to the Jordanian border; however when we arrived the area that is normally reserved for this was closed. We had a quick look around the church onsite and then decided to try and go to a place called "Banana Land," which is just northwest of Jericho. When we arrived, the parking lot was ridiculously packed and so it was decided that it was better if we found another alternative. So back we went to the eastern reaches of Jericho where O's family owns a house and a plot of land. The house is not exactly in working order, but has a lot of potential as a "fixer-upper." The land itself was amazingly beautiful with a huge garden full of flowers, fruit trees, mint, spring onions, and so on. We spent the rest of the evening sitting outside, enjoying the sunshine, eating delicious food, listening to Spanish music, smoking sweet nargileh, conversating and laughing. What joy!

Ein Arik

Amira, who I work with and have mentioned previously, has been asking me for awhile to come to her house for an evening and stay the night. I told myself that I would take advantage of any situation that comes my way so I said 'ok' even though I must admit the thought of spending the night at her house was never too appealing. Last week she took the initiative to officially invite me. So last Sunday after work we walked together to the market, picked up a few things, then went to the bus depot and boarded the small bus that would take us to her village, Ein Arik.

Ein Arik is located just west of Ramallah near Betunia and is traditionally a Christian village with a number of ancient churches still intact, mainly coming from the Roman Catholic world. Even now the people that live there have Italian ancestors, and some even have Italian names. Despite its history and large Christian population, Ein Arik is home to Palestine's tallest minaret. Go figure!! It is very small with around 3-4,000 people; although being there I would have thought it was less.

20 minutes after boarding the bus we were at the driveway leading up to Amira's house. Her children appeared from out of the open front door one by one to greet me with a handshake and a kiss on both cheeks. They were very polite. I then met Amira's mother who was an extremely jovial, smiley elderly woman dressed in traditional Palestinian clothing. She kept speaking Arabic to me even though she knew I couldn't really understand. I smiled and nodded a lot. After being served a few refreshments while Amira was bustling away in the kitchen we all decided to go for a walk. We crossed the main road and walked down into a beautiful valley full of every fruit tree you could imagine. The word "ein" means "spring" so anytime you see it being used in reference to a location you can assume that there will be a water spring there. Same was the case with Ein Arik. We walked around for over an hour while Amira pointed out the various things growing there and explained that the area was very popular with people from Ramallah because of its beauty and serenity.

We headed back to the house where Amira and her daughters had prepared a lovely feast of chicken musakhen and diwali; two very time consuming and delicious Arabic dishes. After dinner we all sat around and watched Lebanon and Turkish television -- me, Amira, Amira's mother, husband, and 5 children. It was interesting, but entertaining trying to figure out what was happening, since I was feeling a little apprehensive because noone in the house, including Amira, spoke a spot of English. However over the course of the night, we were able to communicate just fine and it turned out to be a really good way for me to practice my Arabic.

At some point I had tried to explain to Amira, in Arabic, that I would prefer sleeping at my own house, especially since I had to work in the morning and that it might be better for me to stay the night on a weekend. It seems she didn't understand and when she showed me the bed I was sleeping in, I just took it in stride. Once bedtime did role around, Amira gave me a nightgown and I shared the room with her eldest daughter. I was woken the next morning around 4 by the call to prayer coming from the nearby minaret. What kept me awake was the sound of braying donkeys and cawing chickens. Such is life in the village!!

Good Friday in Jerusalem

V and I decided to go to Jerusalem for Good Friday. When we arrived at the Qalandiya checkpoint to go through to the Israeli side, we (well V in particular) had reason to be nervous or at least a little anxious. V has recently received her "huwiyya" visa, which essentially means that she is a legitimate Palestinian, sort of, but that she has given up her rights to enter into Israel. So, instead of bringing her huwiyya she brought a copy of her entrance visa (which doesn't expire until next month) and the receipt stating she was waiting to receive her huwiyya. I know, I know its a little confusing. However many people who are waiting to receive visas do this and are able to pass just fine. So when V arrived at the security counter the Israeli girl working there asked her many questions and in the end would not let her through... no matter what. V asked why and the girl didn't have an answer for her. We had to humbly pass back through the security point/cattle corral to exit back onto the Palestinian side. At this point, we were both annoyed but didn't want to admit defeat so we discussed our options and decided to try to take a "taxi" through another checkpoint (Hezma). We told a couple of shady looking characters who had Israeli plated cars where we wanted to go and how much we wanted to pay and we were off! We devised a plan for if we were questioned by Israeli security at Hezma -- we were all friends, it wasn't a "taxi," and there was to be no mention of any "huwiyyas." Luckily when we arrived at the checkpoint we were waved through quite quickly. Whheeww, what a relief!! Just goes to show how secure the security is.

After being dropped off at the top of the Mt. of Olives, we made our way down to the Old City, through the craziness that happens after Friday prayers, and onto the Via Dolorosa. We stopped at a few of the stations along the way before arriving at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which as expected, was very crowded. Earlier in the day there had been processions and recreations of the day Jesus was crucified; however we arrived too late to see the fully monty, but rather only caught the remnants of it all. It is difficult for me to imagine what it must have been like so many years ago and also hard to get into the spirit of things when there are so many people around. Nonetheless, there were many moments when I couldn't help but smile a bittersweet smile at what is happening in the city where the world's biggest advocate of peace was crucified.

I had expected the Old City to be uncomfortably full of people, but thankfully it was not and we had a wonderful time wandering around and people watching. We stopped at a shop manned by a beautiful, old, toothless Palestinian man. He was pretty much the jolliest man ever, but in an almost senile way. He wanted to marry me. I felt violated. Finally, a trip to the Old City just wouldn't be complete without a quick stop at Jafar Sweets for kanafeh - so naughty, yet so good. Glory, glory, hallelujah!!

Being violated

Jafar Sweets

Prisoner's Story

Today I went to a place that has the best roasted nuts in Palestine. The original one is in Nablus and up until today I hadn't been to the branch in Ramallah, but I really wanted pecans. Upon entering I started to explain what I wanted in broken Arabic. A man behind the counter who spoke very good English started talking to me. His name is Raed. We ended up talking for 2 hours. He is 40 years old and from Nablus. He is married with a 2 year old daughter. He told me about how he was in Israeli prison for 11 years and was just released 3 years ago. He casually mentioned it as if it was a normal thing. He said to me, "because you live here you know that going to prison is a way of life for Palestinians. However most people coming from the outside world automatically think that I am a criminal when I say that I was once in prison."

He told me about what he called the "investigations." He said he went through 3. I asked them what they were. He told me "you don't want to know," but continued by comparing it to Guatanamo, but saying that it was worse. He told me that when he was 23 years old he was confiscated by the Israelis and essentially tortured (although he never used this word) so that he would confess his allegiance to Hamas. He never confessed. He said that he was made to sit on a small chair with his hands and feet bound for days at a time with no relief. He said he was beaten and kept awake with extremely loud music to overload his senses. He said that it was all designed to break him down psychologically not physically. He told me he reached a point when he wanted to kill himself.

When he was telling me this he just kept laughing. I said, "why do you laugh?" He told me, "what else can I do? This is our life. This is my story. I had it easier than most. There are a half a million Palestinians who have been imprisoned by Israel who can tell similar if not worse stories. Being a prisoner is like a badge of honor for us."

Raed used to be a Hamas supporter. He now supports no one, but rather says he is Palestinian, that is all. His best friend (who was also present, but who couldn't speak English) used to be a Fatah supporter. They met in prison and are now inseperable. Raed can not leave the West Bank. If he tries to go through the border to Jordan, he is turned away by the Israelis. He tells me he wants to go to the US to visit his brother who lives in Jamestown, NY; but he can not.

As I stood there listening to him, I saw how kind and soft Raed's eyes were. When he smiled, which he did a lot, his eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the edges giving a hint of the life that he has led. Raed is not afraid to go to prison again. He tells me that he will go on any television show to speak about what he has been through. He would like to go on Oprah, but knows it will never happen. He just keeps laughing, and says again, "this is our life."

Nablus... Finally

A couple of weeks ago I had the chance to finally go to Nablus for non-work related reasons. When I lived in Nablus upon first arriving to Palestine, I was restricted to the west side of the city and was not able to explore the city on my own. Since then I have been back several times; however I have only been for meetings at the university sometimes followed by a quick stop for kanafeh. The weather was perfect so myself, O and V headed out towards Nablus. Up until about a month ago the Huwarra checkpoint was extremely difficult to enter in a Palestinian plated car; however recently Israel opened up the checkpoint so that those entering the Nablus area are allowed access trouble-free. Getting out is a whole different story.

Once inside, we visited Joseph's Tomb, which has been the location of a number of conflicts between the Nablusians and nearby Jewish settlers, drank delicious cocktails (not of the alcoholic sort), meandered around the Old City, met a butcher who has been doing business for decades, treated to a drink while buying roasted nuts, given entrance to a men-only hamam (Turkish bath), saw some of the most beautiful barber shops known to man, visited ancient spiceries, given a history lesson by an old man who owned an antique shop, ate kanafeh at the most well-known place in Nablus, saw kanafeh making stunts that could possibly kill someone, saw the sunset while driving on an abandoned road, smoked nargileh on top of the world, and waited at a checkpoint (on the way out) for what seemed like an eternity.

Days 17, 18, & 19 - These 3 days were spent resting and exploring the city of Ramallah and all its glories. Included were restaurants, coffee shops, wine from Jordan, gift shops, produce market shopping (no haggling required), manakeesh at its finest, Ramallah tahtah (old city), steep hills, and beautiful sunsets.

Day 20 -Mom and I decided to stay the night in Jerusalem so that she could see everything she could before heading back to the states. We took the bus into E. Jerusalem and headed directly to the Western Wall Plaza so that we could ensure we arrived to the Dome of the Rock during the correct "tourist times" as the area is typically reserved only for Muslims. We had to pass through a security entrance before entering the courtyard that houses the Al-Aqsa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock. All I can say is man are the Muslims lucky to have this place all the themselves because it is so beautiful and peaceful -- so much so that an old Palestinian man had even fallen asleep while sitting in the sun. We must have arrived at the tail end of opening time because within a half an hour the guards started rounding people up and telling them to leave. We were glad that we arrived when we did and were happy to see the Dome of the Rock up close and personal rather than from behind a wall, from the roofs of the Old City, or from the nearby cemetary.

We took our time going through the Old City since it would be the last time my mom would see it (unless of course she decides to come back!). We then went to the Garden Tomb, which is where some believe that Jesus was crucified and buried; as opposed to the traditional place at the nearby site of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It was easy to picture everything as their pamphlet had a clear explanation for the reasons behind why the location fits the biblical story very well. There is the hill that looks like a skull - Golgotha, the tomb, the garden, its location outside the walls of the Old City, etc.


After we checked into the hotel, located in W. Jerusalem, we decided to look for the House of Prayer, which had been a must stop for my mom during her time here. We found it actually quite easily and the walk there was very nice. I admit that when I am in W. Jerusalem I feel a little uncomfortable as I am used to being around Palestinians and Muslims not Israelis and Jews. Being there is completely different - the streets are clean, there are parks with fountains, modern restaurants, etc. Despite these niceties I still feel safer and calmer when I am amongst Palestinians... I don't know what it is. We spent an hour or so at the House of Prayer, which had a fabulous view of Mt. Zion and the Old City, before walking back up to the Old City's Jaffa Gate where we were supposed to meet Makazi for dinner.


Unfortunately things didn't work out with Makazi so mom and I were left to our own devices. After a very tiring day and a ton of walking, we ended up going to one of the many restaurants in the Memella Mall and had ourselves a fabulous meal, complete with dessert and coffee.

Day 21 - After breakfast and just a wee bit of shopping, we walked to the E. Jerusalem bus station so we could catch a bus up to K's house on French Hill. S was already there, eating as usual, as was Munir (K's brother). Upon our arrival we went to the best pastry place in all of Israel -- then again I haven't really tried that many; however it is deliciously good so I stocked up on both the sweet and savory pastries, which are sold by weight. We then piled into K's car to go to the Ambassador Hotel where we were meeting Luke for lunch. Luke is an Australian who is on a trip around the world. He is stopping off at various points to do volunteer work before moving onto the next destination. Such was the case here and he ended up volunteering for An-Najah University as a Optometry lecturer for just 2 weeks before taking off for more adventuring! I admire him very much and admit I am a little jealous.

After gorging ourselves on the always delicious food at Ambassador, Munir gave us (me, mom, and S) a ride to H's house. H lives in what was once a suburb of Jerusalem, but since the Israelis built the separation barrier is actually now located in the West Bank. There used to be a small checkpoint in N. Jerusalem that was literally a minute away from his house. This made his access in and out of the West Bank relatively easy -- H is an Israeli citizen and is therefore able to move freely between Israel and Palestine; however this wouldn't be the case if he had a Palestinian ID card; he wouldn't even be allowed to leave the West Bank. Recently the Israelis have closed the checkpoint near to his house so he now has to circumnavigate the wall and go through the Qalandiya checkpoint - which is renowned for its traffic jams, or Hezma, which is a further 20-30 minutes away. How convenient! After some coffee, dessert, and as ever wonderful conversation, we left H's house so that mom could get ready for her flight in the morning.

Day 16 - Mom and I went to the Dead Sea. We made a quick stop at Qumran, but figured that it wasn't worth the hassle to get in just to see the cave where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found. We headed further south to Masada -- neither of us had a desire to go the top so it ended up being another quick stop. Before reaching the southern furthest reaches of the sea we found a place to pull off so that mom could had herself a little wade in the Dead Sea. I got myself a handful or two of the water and couldn't believe how strange it felt. It was oily, dense and took ages to dry once it was on my skin. Such odd stuff! The landscape in the area is very peculiar, but actually reminds me a little of central Washington near the Dry Falls area. Because it is so far below sea level it is typically about 10 - 20 degrees hotter than Ramallah.

After working our way back from whence we came, we headed to Jerusalem for lunch. I was able to revisit one of my favorite places, and a place that I have mentioned before, Askadinya. Mom and I were starving by the time we arrived and thoroughly enjoyed our meals there (as usual). The Mt. of Olives was next on the agenda; however by the time we got there all the various churches and chapels were closed so we could only see them from afar. We made it over to the Jewish cemetary that lines the southern half of the mountain and probably has one of the best views of the Old City in all of Jerusalem... stunning!!

Day 16 - O threw a surprise birthday party for V. He is such a ridiculously good organizer it was beautiful. We caravaned with Makazi to their house in Kowber (a small village NW of Ramallah) and the day ended up being perfect to spend some time outside in their lovely garden. V was definitely surprised and we all had a wonderful time eating luscious homemade Palestinian food, smoking a mix of nargileh, and trying to understand and speak Arabic. What strikes me about being with V's inlaws is just how helpful and hospital they all are, especially the men in the family. O and his brothers ensured that everyone was happy and taken care of and when the women of the family tried to help they wouldn't allow it. I love seeing the amount of respect that they all give the "elders" -- serving them first, making sure they are comfortable. I have such a huge amount of respect and admiration for them.

Day 15 - We rented a car and along with V, O, Paulina, Makazi and 3 of her children and 1 grandchild had a very busy, but fantastic day. Our first stop was St. George's Monastery located in Wadi Qelt, which is in the hills between Jericho and Ramallah. The Israelis have put a "forbidden to enter" sign and a pseudo-roadblock on the road there to deter tourists from giving business to the monastery. After a 10 minute drive on a windy, narrow, ancient road we found the entrance which was manned by a few bedouins and their donkeys. The hike down the valley was so beautiful, but very, very steep!! Allegedly the area, which is a desert oasis, has been a stop for travelers and pilgrims for hundreds and hundreds of years. You can see the evidence of what was once a decent sized river running through the valley. All that is left now is a man made irrigation system that the Israelis have built to deter the water away from the valley and to their settlements in the West Bank. The monks of the monastery, who are from Greece, were so friendly and seemed pleased to have visitors. They let us into all the closed areas and gave us sweet date juice to drink that they had made themselves. Knowing how ridiculously steep and lengthy the journey back up to the car would be, the bedouins had followed us down and brought their donkeys along with them in case we wanted a ride. As we started to make our way back up, I was followed by one of the bedouins, Fadi. He insisted that I hop on his donkey and hitch a ride. After a little persistence from Fadi, I agreed. It wasn't as bad as my first donkey ride (I must be getting better); however I was able to hold on to Fadi's shoulder to keep my balance. Wadi Qelt was absolutely stunning and I would highly recommend it to anyone traveling to Israel/Palestine. Completely a hidden gem that the Israelis don't want people to discover.


On our way to the next stop, we pulled off at "Sea Level." I have passed by it a number of times, but never actually stopped there before. The camel that I have always seen when passing by is owned by a man who is the only person licensed to work on that spot. This camel is the most beautiful and sweet animal that ever existed... there is nothing much more to it.


We then went to Al-Nabi Musa, where a shrine has been erected on the spot that Muslims believe Prophet Moses to be buried. It is a beautiful green and white domed complex in the middle of the Judean desert between the Dead Sea and Jerusalem. Historically, Muslim pilgrims used to come here as their last stop before Jerusalem and it is also well-known for an annual festival, which is actually occurring this week.

Next we went to Jericho where we saw the remnants of the "oldest city in the world" before taking the cable car up to the Mount of Temptation. The view overlooking the Jordan valley and off into the hills of Jordan was spectacular. It was extremely peaceful and the only people there at that time of day were locals. It would be the perfect place to watch the sunrise or sit and read a book while sipping some wine -- if only it didn't cost so much to get up there (55 shekels for tourists, 25 shekels for locals).

Our last stop was Hisham's Palace located in north Jericho. It dates from the early 8th century and is a very good example of Umayyad architecture. It is home to one of the best and most well-preserved mosaics I have ever seen.

Days 11, 12 & 13 - After a busy weekend behind us and an even busier weekend ahead of us, my mother and I rested in Ramallah for a couple of days. A had rescheduled another tour at the City of David so I left work early on the third day to ensure that mom and I had plenty of time to get to Jerusalem without getting caught at the checkpoint. Although we did have to get off the bus again (which turns out is a new rule at Qalandiya - the Israelis have a tendency to make them up as they go), the line was nowhere as long as it was the previous Friday. We made it to the Old City with ample time to spare so we hung out in the Western Wall plaza for awhile - which acutally ended up being the closest I had ever come to it - watching people coming and going and Jews praying and reading. We then walked outside the walls to find the entrance to the City of David. One thing that struck me about this place was the copious amounts of settlers with guns. I'm talking regular citizens walking around with huge AK-47s strapped to their backs. It was a bit unnerving to say the least.
The City of David is located just south of the Al-Aqsa Mosque outside the walls of the Old City. It is basically a large ongoing archaelogical dig and is claimed to be where King David first established Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. A huge controversy lies around the excavations as the space was once occupied by Palestinians but has been slowly taken over by Jewish settlers. In addition, the Palestinian village of Silwan which is on the hills surrounding the City of David is under threat of being torn down for the sake of excavations.
The tour was led by a young, enthusiastic Jewish man who really loved his job. He did his best to stay neutral while explaining the significance of the place and answered questions carefully when confronted with a touchy subject. An example is when a middle-aged Canadian woman told him about how her and her husband accidentally got lost and drove through an Arab area of Silwan. She made it sound like it was the worst possible thing to happen to her. The tour guide asked again what road she was on and upon hearing the answer he said that "he loves driving that road and finds it very beautiful." Earlier she had asked if the City of David was safe since it was surrounded by an Arab village. He told her "yes of course."

All in all the tour was time well spent as it was interesting and well conducted, not to mention some of the excavations were amazing to see. Afterwards we made our way back to the windy, narrow, market-filled streets of the Old City, drank some over-priced sahlab, and went to the Notre Dame Centre for a very disappointing dinner before heading back to Ramallah for the night.

Day 14 - Mom came into work with me and brought along her beaded bracelets that she has been making. She sat at S's desk as he was away in Nablus for a meeting. Amira, who is our cleaner/cook at the office, like many other poor Palestinian women makes traditional embroidery to earn money. She always sits in the room next door and works on her craft projects without a sound. However, this day she was extremely curious in what my mom was doing; curious enough to grab a chair, bring her embroidery in, and sit right next to my mother. Now Amira doesn't speak any English, but somehow it was not needed because mom and her just sat there and worked on their crafts together the rest of the day.It was such a beautiful moment!!

On our way home I took my mom to Zeit ou Za'atar; one of my favorite restaurants in Ramallah. They make amazing manakeesh, which is freshly baked dough (kind of like pizza) with all sorts of fillings. Look at that spread!! So good!!