My friend Bethany lived in Bethlehem for a year and a half and is dating a Palestinian, so when she heard I wanted to visited the city, she invited me to join her yesterday. She was going to the Lutheran World Federation compound on the Mount of Olives in the morning to bake and decorate Christmas cookies at the pastor's house. She was running late, so she decided we should take a taxi instead of walking. The taxi driver was a Palestinian, and Bethany started speaking to him in Arabic. In the course of the conversation, she told the driver she had lived in Bethlehem and he said he lived in Bethlehem. She told him we were going there that afternoon, and he said he would take us there for free, on his way home. I was a little suspicious of this offer, not because he was Palestinian, but because this young man was a complete stranger, but apparently that is just Middle Eastern (or at least Palestinian) hospitality.
We arrived at the compound and got to work with the cookies. It turned out just to be the pastor's wife, two other ladies, Bethany, her friend Britt and me. Britt was also going to Bethlehem with us, as she and Bethany had appointments to get their haircut. Baking the cookies was a lot of fun. Instead of decorating the cookies with icing, we used glaze made out of egg yolks, painting the cookies before baking them. I was not very good at it, so most of mine were just solid colors, instead of some of the intricate patterns and designs of the others. But in the end, they all tasted equally yummy!
When it came time to leave, Bethany called the taxi driver and we met him near the Old City. On the way to Bethlehem, he showed us where the 1967 lines were, compared to where the security wall was built and where the checkpoints are. There is a village that is half in and half out, and the people living there have to go through the checkpoint to make a u-turn to go through again, just to go to Bethlehem. Our driver was telling us about his family. One of his parents is a Palestinian from Bethlehem and the other is an Israeli from Jerusalem. As a result, he is a Palestinian with a Jerusalem card, but his family must maintain two homes - one in each city. His older siblings do not have Jerusalem cards, but his younger brother (who is still a minor) does. Apparently the older ones had some sort of "mark" on their record that allowed IDF to deny them cards. I didn't quite understand all of it, but I'm not sure he really does either. It is an example of the randomness of the occupation.
And then there was the checkpoint. We were stopped and the driver had to show his papers and we had to show our passports. We thought that would be it, and we would be on our way. No. We had to pull over, and they started questioning our driver. They kept calling him over and sending him back. Apparently a couple of months ago, he had received a call from someone claiming to be from the Tel Aviv police who wanted to ask him some questions. He asked how he could know that she was really with the police, which is a valid question. He asked her to send him the questions in the mail and he would answer them, to which she agreed. Well, the questions never came and now he is "wanted." The police jeep came and six armed soldiers got out, ready to arrest him. They kept trying to get him to let us girls go (as if he was holding us hostage!), though I suspect it would have been much worse for him if we would have left. Finally, the decision was made that if he could get someone to come and co-sign that he would appear in court tomorrow (today) in Tel Aviv at 9am, he could go. His friend came, another Palestinian (which surprised me - I figured they would require him to have an Israeli vouch for him). We then had to wait for the document to arrive from the other checkpoint, just a few minutes away, but it took over 30 minutes for the police jeep to return with it. All in all, we were held up for nearly two hours. The driver was so apologetic, when we just felt so bad for him (and Bethany and I were on the verge of going over and decking one or two of the soldiers, we were so frustrated with them!). And the thing is, as much as it sucked for us three girls, it was one day for us. That is the kind of thing the Palestinians face everyday.
By the time we got to the hair salon, we were almost two hours late. They told Bethany and Britt they could take them in five minutes, no problem. Of course, five minutes turned into ten and
then fifteen. They finally took Britt and washed her hair, but then she just sat there, waiting. After nearly an hour, Bethany (who was all worked up and stressed out) decided she wasn't going to wait anymore, so the two of us left and went to Manager Square (right). We saw the Christmas trees in the peace center, where Bethany had worked. From there, we walked over to a shop that was recommended to me (where I bought presents for Gabby instead of for my parents!) and then we visited the Milk Grotto. Bethany decided to go back to the hair salon to see if they could cut her hair now. They were finishing up with Britt, so we parted ways with Bethany (who had a party to go afterwards) and went to the infamous Bedouin shop, owned by the even more infamous Majdi. He made us tea and told us stories and promised that any time we came to Bethlehem he would pick us up from the checkpoint and take us around. He even said that when our families come (since Britt's family is coming for Christmas and my parents are coming in January) that we would show us around Bethlehem and take us to Hebron. After we made our purchases (another present for Gabby and one for Jackson, but also
finally a gift for my parents), Majdi insisted on taking us back to Manager Square, where we were meeting up with the pastor, his wife and the assistant pastor. We were supposed to go see the Christmas tree lighting and the parade, but we had missed them. So instead, we decided to get dinner. On the way, we saw three other young people who are part of the church, so we picked them up and they texted their two friends whom they had been separated from to meet us at The Tent Restaurant, the Bedouin restaurant that I didn't get to enjoy in 2009 because hiking up the
Herodium in 110 degree heat all but killed me. There were ten of us, and we just had the
assorted salads with pita, and it was delicious. The pastor and his wife, bless their hearts, picked up the entire tab. The ten of us then piled into the 8 passenger van and the pastor switched into his chauffeur role and drove us all home. Luckily, some of the kids live in Bethlehem, so only seven of us had to go across the checkpoint, which we crossed with no problem.
All in all, it was a very long, exhausting and stressful day. I was able to enjoy some Christmas, although it was overshadowed by the ridiculousness of the IDF and the rudeness of the Arabic taxi drivers in Bethlehem (which I left out of the story for simplicity's sake, but let me assure you, they were awful!) But I guess that is Christmas in the Holy Land - nonexistent in Israel and big business in Bethlehem.
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