Church

It was Sunday. I had a bad dream and it took me a while to get back to sleep. I overslept then, and went to church without drying my hair, just one of the many advantages of life here. I went to the Latin Catholic Church where the Salsas are members. Of the churches that I've visited here, it is my favorite. I love the way that the last half of the walk to church, you can hear the bells calling you to hurry, you're about to be late. I like it that, if you are late, you might not have a seat. I like the smell of the incense. I like the way that their bold voices completely fill the room and roll out into the streets. I like the familiar cadence of prayers. I like Father Majdi (who was not there today). He always smiles when he preaches, like he's saying something a little sarcastic or too close to home and he's trying to soften it. He is true rebel. He willingly serves me communion even though I'm a Methodist. And the Sisters there are fearless, scaling several pews to call down a talking child, even if he is sitting with his grandfather. I like the altar that Philip's father helped carve many years ago. You can read the entire Bible in the relief. All of the prophets and the gospel and the apostles are represented like a 3-D story board. And I like the way that after church many people will crowd into a tiny room and drink coffee and chat.

Visiting

Sunday is the day here for visiting family and friends. It is an absolute obligation to go and see anyone you know who is mourning, or just engaged or just had a baby, etc. Family members will show up at the house and stay for hours and this is fine. We serve them fruit or homemade lemonade or cookies and coffee. They bring children who make huge messes and everyone talks at once, getting louder and louder. Until finally, someone stands up and says "yalla" (let's go) and they leave just as suddenly as they came. Shurouq and I have a private joke because most of the conversation is in Arabic and I speak so little. I watch the person talking and smile and try to laugh when they laugh. Every now and then, I'll say, "wallah?" (really?) or "mazboot!" (it's true!). Then she and I will laugh and no one else even notices. Today I met Amo Jabra, who helped get the olive wood sent to America for me. (If the tourists can't come to the nativities, we will take the nativities to the tourists!) Sharouq's sister and her family also visited. They are one of the displaced families from the Eastern side of Beit Sahour. They had minimal damage to their home, but it was a single bullet that would have killed their youngest daughter had she been sleeping in that room at the time. They were too afraid to stay and moved back in with her parents. I took advantage of the opportunity to take their photo while they were here for the profiles we are doing on displaced families. This was the only real work that I did today.

A bad day in Beit Sahour is  better than a good day in Gaza.

We are getting a little punchy and coming up with ideas for silly articles. You have to have a sense of humor to survive times like these. Yesterday, when we heard that the American journalist had been shot by an Israeli soldier, more than one person said, "I'm sure that the Israelis will blame her mother."

Also yesterday, we received word that "60 Minutes" is actually considering a piece on the Mohammed Al-Durra story that would show the latest Israeli version: that the entire thing was staged and acted out by Palestinians as a propaganda ploy. When you've seen that film and heard the eye witness reports, especially of the father and the reporter who was filming, that very idea becomes so preposterous, that I can't believe that a 60 Minutes crew would waste their time on it. A Ha'aretz article today suggested that the same thing be done to prove that some Israeli Arabs who were killed in Nazareth were shot by other Palestinians. They are certain that they could not have been shot by Israeli soldiers or Jewish rioters, because they all stated afterward that they had not fired their guns. After reading this article, which is pathetically sad, a couple of us began to compose an open letter to all Palestinians saying that, "the overwhelming evidence of every Israeli investigation proves that the 200 deaths and 10,000 injuries were all caused by Palestinian bullets. This is 10,200 bullets that have been wasted. In the interest of the Palestinian struggle against the occupation, we are now calling for all Palestinians to please....stop shooting each other.

Solidarity with the women

I went today to a peaceful gathering at the place where the Beit Sahour refugees stayed for a while. There was a speech about being steadfast against this occupation and attempt at further displacement. Basically the tone was "We are here to stay, even if you bring your tanks." Then the entire group (maybe 200 people) walked from there to the home of the two women who were killed here on Friday. Young boys with Palestinian flags led the way, followed by the men all together, and then the women all together. I didn't see one gun. I never heard anything from the men. The women chanted the entire way. I tried to repeat back their Arabic phrases.  I couldn't imagine anything they would say at that point that I wouldn't say with them.  The woman next to me tried to translate as much as she could. They were saying things about how a martyr's blood is not for nothing. They shouted about unity of Christians and Muslims. At one point my interpreter called them down. Then she said to me, "they forget themselves! Even the women sometimes forget themselves." I don't know if it was something they said that she found inappropriate or the timing of it. Once we arrived at the house, the men congregated outside and there were more speeches. The women went inside. The women of the family in mourning were seated all around the wall. It was a Muslim family. Muslim and Christian women probably about equal in number went all the way around the room with a kiss on each cheek, handshakes, hugs, words of condolence, then were seated in rows in front of the mourners and served coffee. I, of course, participated. On occasions like this, like the wedding parties that I attended this summer, the honorees seem flattered that, being a stranger, I would take time to share this moment with them. Being an American who is coming to see them as who they really are, is especially important.  One of the women of the family stopped me on my way out to tell me how grateful she was that I had come. I had never met her before. There were a couple of women who gave speeches, but only one in English and from where I was seated, I couldn't hear her.

Now about what you've seen on CNN

There was gunfire in Beit Sahour and Beit Jala today, probably the heaviest since I arrived.  I don't know about other areas.  But when it's this close you don't need a television.  It was, as I have said before, on the edges of the towns.  In Beit Sahour, that would be the Eastern area which faces an Israeli military camp. (not in range of our house or office or church, etc.)  In Beit Jala, it is the northern side, which is very close to the Israeli settlement of Gilo.  The typical scenario, is that a lone gunman, or small group of gunmen, sometimes Palestinian, sometimes Israeli settler, will shoot at something or someone on the other side, of his own initiative.  A small gunbattle ensues, followed by the big guns of the IDF.   In Beit Jala early today, Israelis claim that someone fired from Beit Jala into Gilo.  Subsequently, 9 civilians in Beit Jala, who were participating in a funeral were wounded.  Two cars totally destroyed by shells.  Several other cars and an ambulance suffered damage from gunfire.  In Beit Sahour there were two rounds of fighting today, one early and one after dark.  In the first one, a home of a physician was seriously damaged when a large bullet that they call here, 800mm, entered a bedroom window and across to a closet and started a fire.  The water tank was destroyed by a direct hit.  Many windows were broken and some other structural damage in the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom where the fire started.  We could see these bullets tonight glowing red as they fly across the horizon.  Judging from this aerial display and the size of the holes they make, I don't think bullet is a strong enough word for this type of ammunition.  It is truly a series of miracles that has kept more people from dying under this type of fire.  The round this evening lasted much longer.  "Our" sister, Rula is still with her family on that side of town.    They are afraid that it is even more likely to be destroyed if they vacate.  So each time there is a problem, they take the phone and take cover.  She told me by phone that they were fine.  I said that I wanted to come and visit her.  Very calmly, she replied, "it might be better to wait until in the morning."  At least one fire was started by the attack this evening (Shurouq's uncle's house).  The last time that we spoke with Rula, we could see dark smoke from the area.  She said the Israelis had moved a tank in closer and were preventing the ambulances and fire trucks from going in to assist.  It will be tomorrow before we have the whole statistical analysis.  I can only tell you about my own impressions, and I feel like that it so inadequate.  What I would tell you is only a fraction of what I feel in terms of sadness and disgust.  What I feel is only a fraction of what they feel as they watch and listen to this torturously slow invasion of their homes.  I can't imagine how it feels for someone to slowly destroy everything about your life, while the world, especially the most powerful, "civilized", nation in that world not only allows it to happen, but finances it.  It is too sad to comprehend, much less to convey to someone else.  

So.....keep praying.  Use EVERY opportunity to seek and speak the truth, even to those who don't want to hear it, and some day soon, justice will prevail.  

Salaam,

Rhonda 

Please click here to find more pictures of the last shelling in Beit Sahour www.rapprochement.org/day3.htm