|
Friday, 12/5/03: We shared breakfast this morning
with Fr. Firas and his family. It was tasty scrambled eggs with greens
and flatbread. Afterwards, Marthame and Fr. Firas went to the Melkite
church to complete his interview for the film, to take a tour of the church
grounds, and to just catch up on the latest news. Elizabeth went
back home to work. Seems that's mostly what we're doing these days:
filming, packing, working! |
Saturday, 12/6/03: This evening, we made a few
visits, knowing that there are many many people we want to see, and not
that many days left. First stop was a family which was among the first
to reach out to us and welcome us in Zababdeh. The mother works at the
school and four of their five sons study there was well. The father works
as a farmer and laborer when there are jobs. He used to work in the hotels
in Jerusalem, but not anymore. We played with the boys and chatted,
drinking coffee and eating chocolate wafer sweets (ubiquitous in Palestine,
they are corrugated biscuity layers filled with chocolate or sometimes
lemon creamy sugary filling). From there, we went to see another
friend, who works as a taxi driver, and his family. Their baby daughter
just got her first tooth, so they were busy making and delivering plates
of hot sinooneh, to friends and relatives. Sinooneh comes
from the word for tooth (sin), and it is traditional to celebrate
a baby's first one with this sweet made with whole grains of wheat, anise,
sugar, raisins, walnuts and topped with candy bits. Baby's grandmother
is from Zababdeh but lives in Zarqa, Jordan. She and another of her daughters
were returning there the next day. We'd gotten to know them on previous
visits and even stayed with them for a couple nights in Zarqa, so it was
very nice to see them and celebrate teeth with them. |
Sunday, 12/7/03, the 2nd Sunday of Advent: We worshiped
in the Latin church today. Marthame filmed much of it for a segment we
are doing about Mughannam, a young man who is very involved in the young
adult ministry and also teaches religion at the school. During the
announcements Fr. Aktham reminded the congregation that we are leaving
soon. He gave an affectionate and warm pre-farewell farewell. We
will really miss this place. After church, we and Veronique, the French
volunteer, went home with Mughannam for lunch and to interview him.
He is an eloquent, faithful, and thoughtful young man, a good "spokesman"
for Zababdeh. His little cousins (triplets in first grade) were as
cute as you can imagine. After a delicious lunch and a fruitful interview,
we went home, straight to the computer. In the evening Deacon Imad, the
seminarian doing his training in Zababdeh this year, came over for a visit.
We chatted and watched TV and drank tea and coffee, showing him snippets
of the film. |
Monday, 12/8/03: Elizabeth went to the school
to drop off some papers and pick up some empty boxes from the school snack
shop. The couple who run it are dear friends, whom we used to see every
day when we were teaching. But now we haven't seem them for a while. It
was great to munch on a hummus sandwich, sip hot tea, and chat. Then
it was back home, with a mountain of boxes to fill. There is always more
than you think.... Marthame worked on editing and fixing the misbehaving
computer (sometimes it seems as though the equipment is conspiring against
us!) and then went to choir practice in the evening to do some more filming.
Mughannam, in addition to everything else, is helping the youth prepare
some hymns for Christmas Eve. |
Wednesday,
12/10/03: We have had several warm sunny days, drying up the mud and
warming up the land. So after lunch today we went for a walk, something
we haven't done in ages. Up into the hills, walking through fresh green
vegetation, bright and tender having just emerged, coaxed out by the rain
and sun. White winter crocuses
were blooming everywhere. As we passed by olive trees, we took time to
glean any left behind by harvesters in October and November. There is just
enough time to prepare and salt them so they'll be ready before we leave.
On the top of the hill, we sat and absorbed the peacefulness and natural
beauty of this place. After a little qailoolie (nap) in the
shade, we headed home, relaxed and calm. In the evening we did an interview
for the weekly Catholic
Views show for the Roman Catholic Diocese
of Sioux Falls, South Dakota (you can download
it, though it's a big file; listen to it by streaming
audio, or just read the transcript). |
Friday,
12/12/03: After Marthame vanquished the dishes, we went out
this morning to visit some people. First, we went to say thank you to a
neighbor who had dropped off some oil, olives, and dried mlukhiyye
(tasty local greens). We chatted a bit, drank some coffee, and admired
her lovely Christmas tree. Then we went next door, where little Julia and
George are often playing with their grandfather on the front stoop, and
where we have stopped many a time on our way to or from town to chat and
drink coffee. We stepped inside and sat with them, watched George blow
bubbles and Julia draw pictures. After a bit (and of course coffee), we
went to see Im Nabil. Living alone at 80 in perhaps Zababdeh's oldest
stone house (with Samaritan mason work and decoration), she always astonishes
us with her sharp mind, fantastic English, and interesting stories. She
lived in Baghdad for several decades (in fact was married in one of the
Presbyterian churches there) and then lived and worked many years in Jordan.
In spite of our best attempts to refuse, she gave us msakhan to
take home. We went back home, ate until our bellies were full, and
worked. In the evening a good friend who's just gotten in town from Ramallah
(four and a half hours on the road and at checkpoints) came by for a visit.
________
|
Saturday,
12/13/03: Marthame went to Jenin to settle accounts today, hoping to
finish everything in one fell swoop. However, the false idols of
Middle Eastern bureaucracy were conspiring against him. The deposit
- which we put down on the cellphone so we wouldn't skip town with a hefty
bill - can't be taken until the last bill is paid, but the last bill won't
be printed until the 15th of the month and won't make it to Jenin until
around the 23rd of the month. Then it'll take a few days for the
funds to be released. Aagh. This after four trips to Jenin
and many assurances that we'd be able to withdraw the funds sooner.
Even with the road to town open on a fairly regular basis, nothing is reliable.
We had lunch with Fr. To'mie and his family after he got back from worship
at the church in Burqin. He knew to invite us because they were having
msakhan,
one of our local favorites! Doesn't matter that we had it yesterday,
either. His granddaughters are in town, so they (and thus we) are
surrounded by cute baby girls everywhere. We took a break from work
this afternoon to sit on the balcony and appreciate our view of the fields,
with farmers busy working and our neighbor's sheep and goats baa-ing in
their pen. |
__ __
Sunday, 12/14/03, the 3rd Sunday of Advent: We slept a little later,
put on our best duds, and made our way to the Melkite Church. George Haddad,
the new Bishop of Haifa came for the first time today. Lots of nice vestments
and the Melkite community turned out for his appearance, as did the Latin
sisters, priest, and council and orthodox priest as the service took place
later in the morning to accommodate the Bishop's schedule. In the
Eastern tradition, it was a long, nice service, followed by coffee on the
newly cemented grounds. Fr. Firas poured the cement in honor of the
Bishop's visit (a small step towards replacing the winter muds that currently
surround the church) and in hopeful anticipation that funds would soon
arrive to pay for it. We then went off for our third msakhan
lunch
in a row at Fr. Firas's parent's home. Firas' mother told us that
she made it especially for us, because she knows how much we like it.
True, but now that we've completed our trifecta, there's no need for more.
While we were drinking our post-meal coffee, Elizabeth's mom called the
cellphone to ask if we'd heard the news. Saddam's been captured. Still
on the phone, Elizabeth stuck her head back into the sitting room and announced
in Arabic, "samakuu saddam." Which kinda means "Saddam's fish."
She corrected herself ("masakuu saddam"), but she still took some
ribbing for the slip, including from her loving husband. No one had
heard the news, and some went to the other room to turn on Al-Jazeera.
Marthame joined the clergy as they made their way towards the Haddad household.
Living in a ![](dec03/1203011.jpg) lovely
compound on the outskirts of Jenin, the Haddad family is a well-to-do family
that's family business is smithing (Haddad means "Smith"). They worship
at the Latin Church in Jenin, but they are Melkites by history. It
was the first time in several decades that a bishop from their church had
visited them, not since the death of their cousin who had changed the scoring
of Arabic liturgical music from a Western left-to-right to the more Eastern
right-to-left. Fr. Firas has performed three baptisms for them this
year, and the family has clearly appreciated his ministry and presence
in the area. On the way to visit them, two tanks stood in our way.
A three car procession (one Israeli-plated, one Palestinian-plated, and
one with diplomatic plates) of clergy drew attention, but thankfully not
fire, from the soldiers. They were kind enough to raise the tank
turret so that we could pass under and let us through coming and going.
In the evening, we stopped by to visit the Latin Church Bazaar, run by
the youth group to raise funds for their annual activities. |
Monday, 12/15/03: We are being berated by everyone
in town to make sure that we visit them before we leave. Numerically,
it's impossible, and we plan to stay at home Christmas evening (our last
night in Zababdeh) and have anyone and everyone to stop by and say farewell.
In the meantime, however, we are taking full advantage of the hospitality
to help take care of our meals. Today it was lunch with Im Maher,
where we had koosa mahshi (stuffed squash) and
waraq dawaali
(stuffed
grape leaves). Then it was back to our fun-filled days of computering,
editing, and packing. So much to do... |
Tuesday
12/16/03: The town was abuzz with the student elections up at
the Arab American University. Many of Zababdeh's Christian community
go to school there, and so there is a significant Christian population
(perhaps 10%) among the student body. At universities, student government
is made of the same political parties as Palestinian society. 21
seats were up for vote. People were on edge, excited and anxious
all day. So far, Fatah (the PLO) has not captured a majority at any
of the Palestinian universities, and there was a sense that this spelled
a further radicalization (and perhaps marginalization) of the Palestinian
public. AAUJ was the last institution to hold student elections.
Late in the evening, the results came in: Fatah took a simple majority
of 11 seats. The Islamic block (Jihad and Hamas) took 8, and the
DFLP (Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine) and PFLP (Popular
Front) took one each. There were big celebrations in town as a result,
most Christians belonging to Fatah or D/PFLP. Cars were coming and
going, horns were honking all over town. In the absence of any true
democracy (both under the Israeli military occupation and as subjects of
a Palestinian Authority which has little ability or desire to hold elections),
this will have to do. |
Wednesday,
12/17/03: The best news we've heard in three and a half years:
Anis got his visa! Anis had received a full four-year scholarship
to study at North Park University in Chicago. All of his paperwork
was submitted on time, and he received his I-20 from Immigration in due
course. Following his interview at the American Consulate in East
Jerusalem, however, his paperwork was shipped off to Homeland Security
for further security checks. This measure was instituted after September
11th, particularly put in place because the 9/11 attackers all entered
the US on student visas. As the fall semester approached, we and
others tried to contact Congress members or others who may be able to expedite
his application, as is common practice for visa applications. The response
was that Homeland Security is a hermetically sealed process, and senators/representatives
or others have no sway. We'd just have to wait. Besides, he's a low security
risk, which means he's a lotwer priority for getting through the system
(a bit baffling and enfuriating to hear: so if he were a high security
risk he'd get his visa sooner?!?!?). Freshman orientation came and
went, classes began, and no word. Eventually, Anis started to audit class
at the nearby AAUJ, and we too started to lose hope that he would be able
to take advantage of his good fortune to win the scholarship. The fall
semester came and went. But today we are so happily surprised.
ilhamdulillah!
Thank God. |
Friday, 12/19/03: Today our most recent piece
was published
in the National Catholic Reporter. |
![](dec03/1203014.jpg) Saturday,
12/20/03: This morning Elizabeth dropped by the Anglican clinic to
have her ear infection looked at. Suffering from these nasty things about
3 or 4 times a year, in addition hearing poorly to begin with, she's taken
to declaring that all she wants for Christmas is 2 new ears. New prescription
in hand, she made her way from the clinic to the school, where preparations
were being made for the staff Christmas/New Year's luncheon. Of course,
it was mansaf, rice and meat topped with almonds and yogurt sauce
(all of which is prepared in truly enormous pots). Delicious as usual.
Fr. Aktham took a moment to thank us, and give us farewell presents: Elizabeth
got a hand-embroidered dress,
which she slipped on over her clothes. People joked that if she wore
that when we arrive in the States, security wouldn't let us enter the country.
And Fr. Aktham has arranged for Marthame to get an 'oud, the traditional
big-bellied Arab stringed instrument that he has coveted for so long. For
the past couple of weeks, Elizabeth has been baking up a storm, making
little zip-lock baggies of American style cookies (chocolate chip, sugar,
butter, peanut butter, ginger, cinnamon brown sugar, banana) and candy.
We wanted something small to share with the teachers and others who had
welcomed us so. In the evening, good friends came and we had lots of fun
with Lulu, the youngest child. Also, today we were again published
in the Lubbock
Avalanche Journal. |
Sunday, 12/21/03, the 4th Sunday of Advent: Elizabeth
went to the Latin Church this morning long enough to get some final footage
of one of our film subjects. She then joined Marthame at the Orthodox
service. Today, immediately after Mass, was a remembrance service
for a church member who passed away a year ago. Afterwards, as usual, family
members handed out sweets (including coconut macaroons and whole wheat
grains cooked with sugar and anise and topped with sugar coated almonds).
Also, youth were handing out baklava in celebration of the Fatah victory
at the University elections. |
Monday, 12/22/03: Work work work. Can't believe
we're leaving so soon!!!! News arrived that Rev. David Owens of First Congregational
Wilmette passed away from cancer. Four years ago that congregation
started a relationship with the Latin parish in Zababdeh. A couple
months before we arrived, David visited Zababdeh with a large group of
youth and adults from First Congregational. The visit was a powerful experience
for the Wilmette group as well as the youth in Zababdeh. (And they also
brought our printer and guitar to Zababdeh for us.) We were sad to
hear of his death, but gave thanks for his passion for life and ministry. |
_____ _____
Tuesday, 12/23/03: Unfortunately, we were too tired to go to school
this morning for the last day of exams. We managed to be up and decent
enough to share lunch with wonderful people whom we will miss dearly.
We ate tasty malfouf (stuffed cabbage leaves) and spaghetti casserole.
Then Marthame hustled off to help set up for the evening's activities at
the Latin church hall. At
Latin mass tonight David Owens was remembered. After mass was a large party.
There were Christmas carols and dances, and finally a Christmas pageant,
another original by Fr. Aktham. High school and college students essentially
played themselves - young Christians living in a time of brutal occupation.
As such they one by one beg two soldiers (enthusiastically played by high
school boys) to pass a checkpoint in order to pray at church on Christmas.
Because they are Christian and it is Christmas, they are eventually let
through. But not all intend to pray - some to party, to drink, to play
cards instead. Those get reprimanded by a heavenly voice, and find
themselves in darkness as those who choose a path of faithfulness are rewarded.
The morality tale reinforces that being Christian is more than just having
"Christian" printed on your ID - more than getting a day off or special
treatment on Easter and Christmas. Elizabeth stayed for the event
but, still sick, slipped home right after, skipping the ongoing visiting
and festivities. Later in the evening, a few visitors came by - including
some former students, now at AAUJ. It was very nice to see them,
especially now that we don't have to tell them to be quiet and pay attention
in class. |
Wednesday,
12/24/03: Christmas Eve always has excitement in the air. We went first
to pray at early evening mass in the Melkite church, where the small flock
had gathered to celebrate the Incarnation. Afterwards, we, as well as a
number of the Melkite worshippers, headed to the Latin church for their
late service. Merry Christmas! |
Thursday, 12/25/03: Merry Christmas! This morning
we worshiped with the Orthodox faithful in Zababdeh, shared lunch with
good friends, and then spent the rest of the day at home, as friends and
neighbors came by to wish us good-bye. It was a good ![](dec03/1203022.jpg) way
to accomplish the hard task of saying farewell to a whole village. As the
evening progressed, our driver for tomorrow morning called to tell us about
another suicide bombing. He apologized that because of the bombing, he
could not take us from Zababdeh across the Green Line and to the Jordanian
border: "Because of the bombing they'll close the checkpoint. I'll be able
to get out because I have Israeli citizenship [he's from Nazareth], but
they won't let me back in to be with my wife and baby son." So we were
faced with a real question of how to get out tomorrow. Marthame made
a flurry of calls, and found a driver - another Palestinian Israeli living
in the West Bank, but one willing to take the risk of not getting back
home again. That solved (or as solved as we'd get tonight) we went on enjoying
the evening with our visitors. Fr. Aktham, Deacon Imad, and the French
teacher Veronique were our final visitors, and we shared a lovely time
of warm fuzzies, appreciation, laughs, encouragement (and some deserved
berating for not sharing lunch with them and the sisters today). After
some last minute packing (including finding space for a number of farewell
gifts brought by people today), we collapsed at a very late, small hour. |
Friday, 12/26/03: This morning we left Zababdeh
for good. A Zababdeh taxi driver picked us up early this morning. Our landlady
and Veronique, the school's French volunteer teacher, helped us load our
luggage and fifteen boxes of stuff into the taxi. After quite a little
workout, we along with Veronique were finally off for the long last ride
to Jalame. Once in the town of Jalame, we transferred all our things to
the taxi of the Palestinian Israeli willing to try and take us across the
border. At the border, the soldiers made us remove all the boxes
and open them for inspection. Their metal detectors were so sensitive
that even clothing zippers and snaps set them off, so they had to go through
everything, which took a lot of time. We were very thankful that the overcast
day didn't break out in rain, as all our things were set out in cardboard
boxes on the pavement. After everything was cleared, we had the problem
of a driver to solve. The soldiers confirmed that they would not let this
man back into the West Bank if he left. Since his home and family
is in the West Bank, understandably, he did not want to leave. So we had
a problem. He called a cousin who was in Muqeible, the closest town past
the Green Line, and he agreed to come to the border and drive us to the
Afula post office (to send the boxes) and to the bridge (to enter Jordan).
When he arrived, however, the soldiers told him he could not walk the several
meters across the border to get to us and the van. And they would not let
Marthame drive it across because they said he does not have an Israeli
license. At one point, Marthame suggested we push the van across
the border to the new driver. You can't win for losing! Eventually
they relented and allowed our driver's cousin to walk up to them at the
border and the few feet across to meet us and drive us away. He took us
first to the post office in nearby Afula to ship our many boxes and Marthame's
guitar. The post office was a comedy of errors, being checked and not checked
by security as we lugged all the boxes into the little office (crowded
since it was the verge of Shabbat and the office would close early at 12:00).
We filled out forms, then were told they were the wrong forms, then discovered
that some of the boxes were too heavy, then that they wouldn't take credit
cards (in spite of the VISA signs all over the place). With a lot of patience,
a lot of help from Veronique, and the purchase of a pack of packing tape
nearby, we finally got everything off and then we were off to the Sheikh
Hussein bridge to enter Jordan. Fortunately, our morning's luck did
not follow us, and the process was smooth at the border, and soon we were
in the bus crossing the Jordan River. Marthame breathed a huge sigh of
relief once we were out of Israel, and smiled a huge grin as he saw a tumbleweed
roll by on the Jordanian side. We had been assured by every travel agent
we talked to that we would be able to rent a car at the bridge. Since
we were going straight to Petra, and then to the airport with lots of luggage,
rental was the only reasonable plan. To be sure the office was open, Elizabeth
went to ask the guys at information at customs. A friendly round
man named Mohammed went through the usual questions (where are you from,
how come you speak Arabic so well? how can I help you?) Elizabeth chatted
with him, eventually getting around to car rental, mentioning that we were
going return it at the airport. "Yes, there is National Rent-a-Car here,
but I think you need to return the cars here. Let me call."
He picked up the phone and said "Alo Nasser? Kul 'am wintum bikheer!"
Meaning, "Hello Nasser? Merry Christmas!" After a chat, the man informed
Elizabeth that yes, all cars are supposed to be returned to the bridge,
but we should go talk to Nasser; he might make special arrangement for
us since we were Christians like him. Elizabeth thanked him and we headed
off to get our bags x-rayed and then to Nasser the car renter. We
found the small National office and greeted Nasser. We explained
our predicament: we need to return the car to the airport. Since it is
Friday, we cannot get to Amman in time to rent from the airport or from
other offices there. We can't afford what it would cost to take a taxi
to Petra and really don't want to stay in Amman tonight. As we were all
pondering our fate, Marthame noticed a letter on his desk addressed to
a Baptist church in Alabama. "Would you like us to post that for you once
we arrive in the States? It will get there much faster." Nasser gratefully
handed over the letter and then proceeded to make a very special arrangement
for us, whereby we could leave the car in the parking lot at the airport
(keys in the ashtray) and his cousin would come and pick it up and take
it to the bridge later. We were immensely relieved and thankful. Soon we
were all breathing a sigh of relief and cruising down the long, long road
toward the ancient lost city of Petra. After about four hours on
the road, the three of us checked into our hotel, Veronique opting for
sleep since we had worn her out with all of the lifting and moving and
stress of border crossings. The two of us shelled out a few extra
dinars for the hotel dinner. As we feasted, we looked up and saw...Jonathan!
The Arab American University teacher and dear friend of ours who has been
stuck in Amman for some time now. He and another teacher from the
University were refused re-entry to Israel because they work at the University
in Jenin. We have missed him greatly and had tentatively planned
to meet up in Jordan, but hadn't confirmed anything. We heard more
of his news and then made plans to meet in the morning and wander the ruins
together. |
![](dec03/1203044.jpg)
|
____
Saturday, 12/27/03: We packed our lunches for the day, then
the four of us walked to the entrance gate for Petra. Periodic students
at Birzeit University, we showed our student IDs at the park ticket counter.
Jonathan presented his teacher ID from the AAUJ. Veronique had no
such ID, but the ticket seller made it clear he would take just about any
old ID as a student ID, so Veronique found the closest thing she had: a
library card from the French Cultural Center in Jerusalem. He shrugged
and gave us our discounted tickets, and we began the long and glorious
hike. We had gotten a late start, so there was no way we would get
all the way to the monastery today. No problem. We would simply
take our time today and head out again tomorrow. We walked the long,
dusty roads of the ancient Nabatean city, fascinated by the smallest little
turn in the road and the carvings and niches along the way. Little
did we know how unimpressive all that would be by comparison. We
turned a bend in the siq (the narrow crevice carved deep into the
earth, more astonishing than anything we saw in our visit to Zion National
Park), the magnificent Treasury opened up before us. An immense structure
carved out of the harsh rock face, this served as the entrance to the final
resting place of the Holy Grail in the Indiana Jones movie of the same
name. We made it only a little further past the Treasury, stopping
to admire the coliseum and wandering around in some of the nooks and crannies
in the stone mountainsides along the main stretch, which afforded magnificent
views seemingly only for us. We ate a European backpacker-style lunch
and sang songs and improvised (audio - 15
sec.) in the echoes of these man-made caves. We made it back to the
hotel before sunset, eating ravenously in the nearby town of Wadi Mousa.
We tried to use the sauna that made our hotel such a pleasing thought in
the first place, but discovered that they required an additional five dinars
(around $8) a piece! Oh, well. We'll make good use of the room's
tub.__ |
![](dec03/1203043.jpg)
|
|
![](dec03/1203032.jpg)
|
Sunday, 12/28/03: We have one more day here in Petra,
and so we made the most of it, picking up Jonathan (who was staying at
a different hotel nearby) in the morning before packing up the car for
our drive back to Amman later on. We passed through the first half
of Petra with little thought for what we had already seen yesterday.
Again, it reminded us strongly of an earlier trip to Zion National Park,
where we wandered the vast crevices carved into the rock. This time,
we weren't up to our chests in water, but it was no less wondrous.
We had an early breakfast overlooking the amphitheater, the place which
had so caught our eye yesterday. We then eagerly looked forward to
Jonathan's favorite part of the site, the collanaded road, which led us
toward the the long ascent to the Monastery, a place of worship for the
Byzantines, which had once been a Nabatean temple. Just out of sight
of the town of Wadi Mousa, the structures lay "undiscovered" for centuries
after their abandonment, though it is likely that the Bedouin made good
use of the manmade caves. Though less-detailed than the Treasury,
the Monastery is no less impressive. We tried to climb to the top
to sit in its cupola. Jonathan had done this on a previous visit,
and we had seen postcards of people sitting in the cupola, so we thought
little of it. But we were shouted down by the first park security
guard we had seen. We were disappointed, but made the most of the
extra time not spent on the cupola by wandering up to a few high peaks
to view the vast desert that lay beyond and catching a bit of a nap before
making our way back down. The paths of Petra are dotted with Bedouin
women selling trinkets and Bedouin men offering rides on camels, donkeys,
and horses. When Jordan turned this place into a national site, they
reached an agreement with the Bedouin living there, that they would have
to relocate to offsite housing but could still graze their animals and
would have exclusive rights to sell on the premises. Beats the settlement
Israel offered the Jahallin Bedouin, some of whom were given shipping containers
to live in, which were eventually replaced by buildings to which they were
never given the keys. After a long good day in the ruins, we piled
into the car, squeezed in by the bags, and began the long drive back to
Amman. About 100 miles outside of Amman, we heard a nasty noise:
flat tire. We pulled over in the middle of the desert, 18-wheelers
whizzing past us in the dark, and unpacked our full trunk in order to get
at the baby spare tire and jack kindly provided by our friend Nasser.
While Jonathan and Marthame wouldn't make the team at Indy, they did a
relatively fast job of getting the tire replaced. We got back on
the road, not sure whether baby spares were good up to fifty miles an hour
or for fifty miles distance. We decided and hoped it was the former,
and proceeded as such, having dinner at a Chinese restaurant in Amman and
dumping our remaining dinars and shekels off on Jonathan and Veronique.
We then checked Veronique and Jonathan into their hotel, where we took
a quick nap before taking off for the airport, desperately hoping that
the baby spare would hold out at least to the airport. And thank
God, it did; we arrived around 1 AM, in plenty of time to leave our rental
car and check in for our early morning flight. Since the two days
ran together, it hardly seems appropriate to put a break in between them,
but here goes: |
![](dec03/1203025.jpg)
|
|
Monday, 12/29/03: We had an interesting time
getting through the initial security checks, being told that the olive
oil and olives we were bringing from Zababdeh were not allowed by Lufthansa
- more because of the mess than anything else. We spoke with the
security chief, who promised to get someone from the airlines to explain
their policy to us. When no such person materialized, he let us pass
with this advice: "When you get up to the gate, you'll have to go through
security again. Tell them Lufthansa said it was OK. Also, put
the bottles in bags from the Duty Free shops so they look like something
you bought there." We did the latter but didn't need to do the former
and got through just fine. We changed planes two more times, arriving
in Lubbock a good twenty four hours later and a good forty hours after
we had last seen a bed. We were met by Elizabeth's mother and brother,
who were as relieved as we were to be back. They gathered us and our things
and took us home where hearty stew and warm beds awaited us. ilhamdillah
as-salaame. Thank God for our safe arrival. |
Tuesday, 12/30/03: It is a good day to rest. |
Wednesday,
12/31/03: Today is the seventh day of Christmas, and the day we explored
our Christmas stockings hung on the mantle with care. Acting as president
pro-tem of the Santa, Elizabeth distributed the stockings and generally
kept the peace. No dancers dancing or partridges in pear trees, but loving
goodies and good times. Tomorrow we'll get to the stuff under the
tree. At night, we were relieved to see New York safely bring in 2004.
And then we rang in our new year quietly but joyfully. Happy New Year!
May 2004 bring peace and justice around the world. |