Guns and Moses…Ode to Jerusalem

22 Nov

While in the Old City of Jerusalem one of the side shops was selling graphic T’s. One shirt had the phrase “GUNS n MOSES” printed on the front. It stuck with me.

Where to begin…

My Eid adventure began rather bumpy to say the least and before I continue let me reassure all who are reading that I had a great time with my friends, I cherished every moment whether good or bad, and I would not have changed a single thing because every event has led me to where I am now bothe physically and mentally. << That was my disclaimer. =)

So, it all started one joyous afternoon. All hearts and minds clear and ready for excitment and good times. My companions and I were driven to the King Hussein border between Jordan and Israel. Once we arrived at the border crossing which seemed unworthy to even be called a border crossing we learned that the Israeli side decided to close. No notice, no warning, just close. So, we, along with many families travelling to see relatives for Eid were in complete disarray. I remember a young family and a mom doting three small children. I asked my friend to translate what they were talking about since my arabic is not 100% quite yet and I learned that they would be staying at the border until it opened. This, I'm sure, would be at least another 10 hours or so. My heart went out to them because I know how impatient I get after 10 minutes let along 10 hours.

My friends and I decided to drive back to Amman and we would figure out our next coarse of action later. Low and behold the car broke down! There we were stuck. Stuck like cement. Stuck like really nasty chewing gum on your shoe. Just STUCK. How long you ask, about 4 and a 1/2 hours! But I must say that if I had to be stuck on the side of a barren road with strangers hearing faint sounds of machine guns from the riots still taking place following the elections I am glad it was those strangers in particular. We joked about our situation although it was a very serious one and when we had been picked up from a friends cousin all we could do was laugh histarically about the situation our groups always seem to find themselves in.

The next day we ventured to a different border, Jordan Valley Crossing. This border instantly looked different. We were told that this was the crossing Americans and other nationalities typically went through versus the other one was mainly for those holding Palestinian ID.

To be continued…

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