"Here, God dries our clothes"

Today, I learned how to say 1 through 10 in Arabic. I also learned the names of many colors, and some useful household terms; however, the most important word I have learned so far is shob (sh-ohb), which means hot. Shob, shob, shob. Very shob. Around 100 degrees Farenheit. So shob that today Jiries, Tata Huda and I didn't leave the house until 5:30 to attend a Greek Orthodox baptism that began at 6. I took the time during the day to practice my Arabic while sitting under the ceiling fan. Jiries and I had more of his zakey (delicious) home-made stuffed zucchini, which is packed with rice and hamburger-ish meat, and he told me about the town of Beit Sahour and Christians in Palestine. Out of 13,000 inhabitants only about 2,000 are Muslim, and the rest are Christian. During the Christian holidays, Israel lets the Christians into Jerusalem, but not Muslims. The Christians in Palestine have a unique identity that seems to lie somewhere inbetween the Jewish Israelis and the Muslim Palestinians.


The view from Jiries' apartment building, Ruth Suites, at the top of the driveway looking to the right (his house is behind the apartments, I will take a picture of it tomorrow)

At 6 we attended the baptism of Jiries' cousin in a nearby Orthodox church that Tata Huda normally attends on Sundays. It was a cheerful occasion and Tata Huda prodded me to take a plethora of pictures to the point that I was practically a part of the baptism itself. I am definitely in the background of all the professional pictures that were taken.

See that look of apprehension? He knows whats coming...



Abunah Issa from the Shepherd's Field Greek Orthodox School in Bethlehem performing the baptism

The baby was really cute even though he cried quite a bit after his quick bath. He fell asleep on his father's shoulder during the ceremony itself, and at the end he was swiftly handed off to one of the nearby nuns so the father could stand with the rest of the family by the doorway to receive everyone's congratulations. Right now it is 12:30 at night, I still have jetlag I think, but Jiries never sleeps because he is always checking the water tank levels to make sure the water is at a good level and is still running, so we are sitting outside on our laptops, and next door there is a baby crying- Jiries said it is the baby who was baptized today. Small town.


Tata (pronouced tay-tay) Huda


Jiries' brother Isam with his grandson

A little while after the baptism, Jiries and I took off to meet some of his wife's friends in West Jerusalem. At this point I had no idea that there was a [Jewish] demonstration there earlier in the day (the news is in Arabic!), but don't worry Mom/Dad/David/Carleen/everyone, it was long over by the time we got there. Jiries made sure to wait until it over before we traveled there.


Street scene


On the way to Jerusalem, we stopped to fill up The Tank. No, I don't mean the gas tank, I mean Jiries' car, which is formally known as "The Tank"- fun fact: the Tank was born the same year I was.


Bethlehem

On the way, we had to cross the checkpoint between Bethlehem and Jerusalem. Israel instated a new law about a month ago that everyone riding in a car except for the driver has to get out of the vehicle and cross the border by foot. After waiting over a half an hour in a line of cars, we reached the checkpoint, and I was told to get out and walk across and follow the people ahead of me. Once I got through the small passage in the giant concrete wall that segregates the Israelis from the Palestinians, I had to follow the people ahead of me into a building which consisted of a maze of hallways and ramps with signs mostly in Hebrew, then through a turnstile, a metal detector, a station with a questioning Israeli solider, another turnstile with another questioning soldier (although when I flashed my American passport they waved me through), a few more hallways, and then finally an exit. The guy who was in front of me had a Canadian passport, but his skin was dark and he looked like an Arab, and for this reason he let me go ahead of him because he said he is usually held up and questioned extensively.


The checkpoint where we waited in line for 35 minutes to get into Jerusalem


Checkpoint sign

Once we reached Jerusalem, we went to a nice roadside cafe where we met the friends of Jiries' wife Maureen. Johan is an Israeli who is a professor at Georgia State in Atlanta, and he teaches courses such as "Through the Looking Glass: Conceptions and Misperceptions about the Israeli/Palestinian Situation" and "Israeli/Palestinian Peacemongers". Jan used to be a reporter for the Jerusalem Report. They were wonderful and interesting people, and even though our conversation was a bit depressing at some points I am grateful for the opportunity to hear all different voices of conscience. We also met a very nice family (I'm sorry if you are reading this I completely forgot your names!) who took a tour of Bethelehem and Beit Sahour over the last few days, and were very interested in what they had seen and learned.


Jan, Johan, and the family we met with for coffee, conversation, and delicious pastries at a cafe in West Jerusalem

On the way home at about 9:45 Jiries and I stopped for shawarma (!!!!!!!) at the Shewarma King. ZAKEY! Last thing: Jiries showed me how to use the washing machine today, and then he added, "We have a washing machine, but no dryer. See? We hang everything outside. Here, God dries our clothes."