Shalom Haverim-

We have all safely arrived in East Jerusalem. It is 3:00 am here and I have been up for an hour. I am wide awake, though I only went to bed at 11:30 Jerusalem time. Jet lag is going to hit hard, no doubt.

At Hebrew School, the morning of my flight, many people gave me tzedakah (charity) to distribute when I arrived in Israel including one entire classes charity collected from last year. After we gathered as a group on the flight for a brief prayer and a reflection for the journey I began to hand out the money to other people and explain to them the custom. To be a shaliach mitzvah, is to be engaged in or on the way to doing a good deed. There is the belief in Jewish tradition that if one is on his/her way to perform a good deed than no harm will befall him/her. I shared this belief with many as I shared CBH's hoped for a safe flight for all of us.

The flight on Air France was fine. I was seated next to Mishele, my sister, which was fun. We played games and talked for most of the flight. My Survival Guide: Worst Case Scenario travel cards were a big hit as a group of us took turns asking questions from the ridiculous: "What is the safest way to approach a seal?" to the dangerous: "How can you use your children to frighten off a mountain lion?" to the practical: "How to dress for a plane crash?" Sleep was a fickle friend on the flight, maybe I snagged an hour or two.

The group has seemed to calm down a bit. Already, there is a greater ease in speaking with each other. In Charles DeGaulle airport, I had an intense conversation with two Christians over baguettes and cheese. There are so many layers: race, religion, sex, sexual orientation, age and they are so on the surface with a group like this. It's a wonder that we ever come out of our own small sheltered groups--but I guess that is the beauty of us too-- we change and grow and so we too, are not a static, fixed being.

Ah, speaking of sexual orientation, my roommate is a 24 year old Muslim man named Omer. A very nice guy, who was the only person that had trouble at Israeli passport control. 30 minutes later after heated questioning he was let through. He joked that my attempt to have a single room failed. Just as we were falling asleep, he asked "You're married, right?" OY! "No," I said, a bit refreshed that there was still one person in Atlanta who didn't know my sexual orientation. Already half dozing, I thought is this the time I want to have this conversation. I decided against it hoping a simple no would suffice. He was recently married 8 months ago, so still in wedded bliss, I imagine--or perhaps moving out of it, he asked, " So are you one of those cynical guys who don't believe in marriage, thinking no one is ever good enough?." "Nope, that's not me?" "So you do want to get married one day?" "Yep!" "Oh, that's good!" With the lights off, I smiled thinking of the ludicrous nature of half truths and the irony of fighting for the right of marriage, all mixed with a little guilt that I didn't mention that I had a Jewish wedding with my former partner. Ah, step by step, we get to know each other.

When we arrived at the Israeli airport in Tel Aviv, it was much more subdued than I had been warned. Virtually no one had orange ribbons (against the disengagement from Gaza) nor blue ribbons (for the disengagement), people were just lined up to see their loved ones! It was only until we were on the bus that we saw the orange ribbons on antennas or inside cars, a few blue ones as well. Graffiti marred the highway embankment with messages of protest. Our guide Gila is a former Conneticut Yankee who has been in Israel for over 30 years and our bus driver is Riyadh, a Muslim Israeli Arab--our travel agent is an Arab Christian.

We stopped on the Mount of Olives with a breathtaking view of the Jerusalem and the sun making it descent behind the Dome of the Rock. The sky was glowing and we listened to each of our trip leaders (one of each flavor: J,C,M) give a reflection. Arab children came by and ran in an out of our circle. They laughed and tried out their few phrases of English. One sat next to me and kept squeezing my bicep and slapping me on the chest as if the were proud of his new donkey or trying to sell me off. We lingered with the city in our eyes for a bit.

Arriving at the Ambassador hotel in East Jerusalem at 7:30 we quickly got ready for dinner. After dinner, I led a group of people (most went to bed) to the Old City. I had never entered in on the Muslim side but I was excited to show a group of 14 of us one of the most beautiful places on earth. We passed the Kings Tomb and the Garden Tomb, where some folks believe Jesus to be buried. He didn't make any appearances last night We also saw where the buses take groups of Palestinians back to their homes in the West Bank. As we wound up and down hills, we arrived only to find the Damascus Gate completely strewn with garbage, which makes sense because it is an open air market. It looked filthy. I was sad that this was some folks first impression of the Old City, but truth is truth. I did joke out loud, "if the garbage of the holy city was holier than other garbage?" As we filed down the steps, we saw groups of Muslim people gathered, some were cleaning the ground and in their midst were a couple of Hasidic Jews walking hurriedly through the Muslim quarter. Interesting juxtaposition. We walked back under a swollen waning moon. It look like an apple with a bite out of it. The breeze was amazing.

I hear sounds but still most are sleeping as they should be! Our bus leaves at 7:45 for the rabbinical tunnels under the Western Wall. Today, we will be visiting the wall and I will be putting the prayers of our community with the prayers of so many others.

Be well,

Joshua