the arrival

I left home at 9:30pm.

I left Maine at 2am.

I left Boston at 8am.

I left London at 10:30pm.

I left Tel Aviv at 7:00am.

I arrived in Jerusalem at 8:30am.

All of my travel was as smooth as I could have imagined- no nasty security checks, no interrogations, lots of sleep on the planes, and even some friendly visits with my flight neighbors. One in particular, Iftah, felt like a brother as he shared some stories of backpacking and exploring South America and the California coast following his release from the required 3 years of army service. I felt in good company with this kind-eyed adventurous young man. When he met his parents at the pickup terminal in the Ben Guiron airport in Tel Aviv, he introduced me to them as if I had accompanied him on his 8-month adventure in South America.

Hauling my guitar across the world proved to be most advantageous, as the flight attendants of my 2 British Airlines flights treated that 6-stringed instrument like a child or a second passenger: allowing me to preboard to assure proper storage of it. Never before have I been treated in such an agreeable way when flying. I have always said, and certainly will continue to say, that British Airlines is the best airline company I've ever flown with. 2 thumbs way up!

What a priviledge to fly into Israel watching the 5am sunrise over the cumulous clouds which hovered just above the earth's surface; a lovely array of pinks and reds across the sky with two mountains peeking their tips above the clouds, most likely mountains from the coastal region of Haifa.

I waited inside the 10 passenger shuttle van which would bring me into Jerusalem, about a 40 minute drive, and watched Jewish driver choose who he wanted to ride in his van. The entire time that he was not inside his van, he had a cigarette in his mouth and a scrunched eyebrow. His dark brown skin was wrinkled from the lifetime exposed to the unrelenting middle eastern sun. Inside the man I watched one woman fan herself with a holy book, and another munch on fresh nuts that were sold streetside outside of the airport.

After about 35 minutes of sitting in the shuttle, watching the driver refuse certain people rides, an Englishman spoke to him quite firmly saying that he can't pick and choose people leaving us here waiting. Two shuttles had already come, loaded up and left- and we were still sitting there with 3 empty seats. Finally, 3 ultra orthodox Jews negotiated with the driver outside the window and loaded their luggage into the trunk. Two older gentlemen sat in the back seat with me, and one seat remained in the middle. The last Jewish man walked up the steps in the front of the shutle and saw that I was sitting in the back seat, then began passionately rattling off some arguments in Hebrew- pointing his finger at me. 4 local women joined in this interaction and began arguing with him- waving their hands in frustration and disgust, decibals going up with each spoken word. The driver stepped in and asked the tall black Englishman in the front seat if he'd be willing to sit in the back. He was not particularly impressed, since he had been sitting on the bus the longest and chose a single window seat. The women continued to passionately aruge with the orthodox Jew and finally, the Englishman moved to the back next to me. The religious man was not willing to sit next to me becase I'm a woman. He apologized in broken English, saying "I am sorry," and one of the local women who was involved in this scuffle replied in a nasty tone "you should be!". Finally, we were on our way. The gentleman who moved back to sit with me, Richard, was quite encouraging and gave me some practical city tips.

I was the last stop on the route, and I got dropped off at the Jerusalem Hotel just outside the Damascus Gate. As soon as I unloaded the van, Melissa and Corinna embraced me and helped me unload my small but stuffed suitcase. They led me through the stone streets of the Palestinian neighborhood to the house that I will be calling home for the next 3 months. One of the shop owners welcomed me into the neighborhood with a kind embrace. It felt like a reunion with a grandfather that I hadn't seen in years. He excitedly said "I have gift for you, you wait just one moment," then rushed inside and brought out a stack of postcards. "You choose one," he said as he fanned out my options. I grabbed one and then he gave me another. "Welcome to the neighborhood, beautiful American!" We turned up 2 more streets and arrived at our hilltop home.

So.... I am here! There is much much more to say- but this is a healthy start. I'll do my best to keep posting. Fridays and Saturdays are Shabbat- so I have those days off-- I'm not sure how busy my week days will be- but having internet at the house makes staying connected quite convenient. I've been posting low-res images from my ipod on facebook for now- more pictures will come!