For the week of free travel, four of us (Drew, Nathan, Lucas, and I) chose a low-cost, high-endurance option: borrowing a tent and sleeping bags from JUC, writing down the names and numbers of “trail angels,” buying some dried fruit, peanut butter, and cereal in Jerusalem’s Old City, and hiking a roughly 120 km portion of the Israel National Trail (INT) from the Mediterranean Sea to the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee). Everything went mostly as planned despite our unhelpful touring map that contributed to losing the trail on multiple occasions and misjudging the distance we had travelled (and had yet to travel).

“Trail angels” are people along the INT who open their homes to hikers who call a day or two in advance. This proved to be one of the highlights of our experience: we stayed in our tent for four nights, and stayed in peoples’ houses for three. We met many interesting people –including at least two men who fought in the ’73 Yom Kippur War. One of these men’s parents met in a concentration camp after their previous spouses and children had been killed (“I owe my existence to Hitler,” Miki the veterinarian said). The other man, Noam, was a former IDF officer who served as a military attaché to a high-level NATO official in the Netherlands for seven years. I spent over an hour talking with Jehudit on our last night of free travel while she prepared dinner for us.

We learned about the distinctiveness of the Bedouin population within Israel and their reluctance to identify with the broader Arab minority when we departed from the trail for a day and instead walked through Shibli, a Bedouin town near Nazareth. Several men running a shop along the road stopped us to offer water, chairs, coffee, and eventually a ride partway to our destination. In another circumstance, an Arab-Israeli family in Kabbiya gave us four full bottles of cold water when we came to their town and offered us a place to stay at their home.

There were a few hitches in our hiking — not only the “lost” variety, but also the “ride in a car” variety. We found that hitchhiking was fairly easy despite our four large hiking packs. We were picked up by a wide range of people: Shalam, a young religious Jew who spoke almost no English; Akram, a Bedouin who also spoke almost no English; two Israeli soldiers fluent in English on a weekend trip to Tiberias, and Zaer, an elderly Israeli Jew who kindly took us to the top of Mt Tabor so we could see the church… and then merrily waved and drove away, leaving us farther back than we had been 24 hours before.

It was a good set of experiences, a good way to see and meet a variety of Israel’s geography and people, and of course, extremely physically strenuous and rewarding (our longest day of hiking was at least 30 kilometers). In all, it was an amazing cross section of Israeli society that we had yet to see in any of our group travel and learning.

Kaitlin Heatwole

Whenever you start out on a trip with a small budget, a friend, small backpack, and no guarantee that you will even reach your destination, you know that you are in for a great adventure. That is how my free travel week with Larisa started out. Our destinations were Beirut, Lebanon and eventually Damascus, Syria. No EMU student has ever gone to Syria for free travel before. Since Lebanon and Syria don’t allow people that have been to Israel to enter and Syria makes it difficult for United States citizens to enter, we had no guarantee that we would get in when we bought our plane tickets from Amman to Beirut. We had been careful to keep our passports clean and hide all traces of having been in Israel, but one wrong stamp at the Jordan river crossing and we would have to scratch our plans. Since so much was up in the air we made reservations for one night in Beirut and nothing else.

We left JUC around ten on Sunday morning with David and Rebekka, bound for the Sheik Hussein bridge. After spending a large portion of our budget on transportation, one exorbitant exit fee, and visas, we arrived in Beirut, Lebanon at our hotel around nine at night. The people at our hotel heard that we wanted to go to Syria and laughed as they said good luck. Early Monday morning we set out for the bus station, bought tickets, bought zaitar bread for breakfast, and boarded our bus to Syria. After about two hours, we arrived at the border and said goodbye to the bus as we prepared for a long wait with books at hand. Five and a half hours later we got the good news that we had permission to enter Syria! This was the beginning of an amazing three days in the Old City of Damascus.

The Old City of Damascus is without a doubt my favorite place in the Middle east. Tourism is not as common so the culture has not been adversely impacted like many cities in Egypt. Food and lodging were ridiculously cheap, a massive market that put any North American store to shame, and friendly people provided for a unique experiance. Words are worthless in describing the souq (market). Just try to imagine a clean, old market with hundreds of large sacks full of every spice imaginable, coffee, dates, dried fruit, coconut, and tea. Shops overflowed with textiles from every corner of the world, clothing, kitchen products, antiques, metal ware, and anything else that you could ever want or need. No need to buy here, the sensory overload was enough to let one standing in a state of shock unable to take it all in. To make it better, for the first time on the trip we could walk down a street without being hassled by a shop keeper. Some of the things that you could find included damask tablecloths from Damascus of course, handmade wool rugs from Iran, paintings from Iraq, saffron from Vietnam, coffee from Brazil, and antiques from the Ottoman era. It brought the spice and silk trade of the history books to life.

If the sights of the market were not enough to fill our time, there was the Omayyad mosque to visit. It is the third or fourth most important mosque in Islam and the most important one that westerners can visit. The mosque houses a shrine to John the Baptist and the supposed location of Jesus’s return, according to Muslims there. Larisa and I spent most of a morning here and found it interesting to see pilgrims from all over the Middle East including Iran. During the call to prayer, we got a free laugh as the singer stopped to cough! It provided an insight into the diversity of Muslims. Our brief time in Damascus also provided opportunities for great conversations with locals, meeting with Mennonite connections, and walking down straight street (think Saul or Paul). As the time came for us to return to Beirut on Wednesday afternoon, Larisa and I found it to be a bit bittersweet as we found ourselves longing to return.

Back in Lebanon, we spent a day enjoying the corniche and pigeon rock along the Mediterranean coast of Beirut and another day enjoying the coast of Tyre in the South. Lebanon has not known much peace over the last two decades. This was especially evident in the south as we saw Hezbollah posters, bombed out buildings and dozens of UN peacekeeping troops. Both Syria and Lebanon are home to hundreds of thousands of Palestinian refugees and Iraqi refugees. This has destabilized both countries and added numerous challenges. Syria alone has had 20% inflation each year for the past two years. Now, why would they be upset with the United States foreign policy? While, I don’t endorse either government, the experiences I had in both countries reinforced the need to solve the Palestinian and Israeli conflict in addition to ending the war in Iraq. This was a wonderful learning experience and I find myself a bit envious of any future EMU student that gets to study in Syria.

-Chrissy Krieder

Las Gringas Perdidas
We went to Antigua, where we spent loads of money on gifts (feel loved). We dined on cheesecake and cappuccino slushies. A random shoeshine boy offered Sara some weed. (Don’t worry. She declined.) We raced around in tuk-tuks, and Amy lap-hopped around a chicken bus. When we left, we hopped the wrong bus. Fortunately, Karla is smart and we´re good at robbing ayudantes. When we got back to CASAS, we took a taxi to the bus station and enjoyed stadium seating in the bus to Carcha, where the adventures really began.

Las Faldas Confundidas
Sunday began early, as we left Carcha with Galen and Phyllis Groff, EMM missionaries, at 5 am. We picked up a random hitchhiker (OK, not so random. He was the MCC SALTer, Luke, who we hung out with all week). We rode 3 hours into the jungle in the back of a jeep, and then hiked another hour into a village. Sara was thrilled out of her mind. Sara and Amy were wearing traditional Q´eqchi garb borrowed from Phyllis, and were very glad on multiple occasions that they had worn pants underneath them. Our Q´eqchi hermanos and hermanas graciously fed us two delicious meals. After church and playing with the little ones, we hiked back to the jeep, where all skirts were promptly ditched. We drove another hour to Laguna Lechua National Park, where we hiked 45 minutes to a cabin on the lake. We spent the evening swimming, eating PBJ, staring at the most beautiful array of stars we’d ever seen, and talking about God around a campfire.

Las Nietas Quemadas
We got up early to see the sunrise. Sara went for a trek through the jungle by herself. Sonnie, Amy and Karla saw a crocodile in the lake. It was then when we understood why the sign said not to swim past 50 meter. (Amy and Sonnie did their best to ignore said sign… and were successful on multiple occasions, and everyone returned in one piece.) We feasted on bread-what-whats and were lazy in the sun for the rest of the day, until journeying back to the home of Galen and Phyllis in Carcha.

Las Patitas Amusadas
This was our first day volunteering at the Bezaleel school. We taught an English class, met the students and learned Q´eqchi words and phrases, most of which we promptly forgot. We followed Luke around all day like ducklings, and there was much laughter mostly caused by Luke. That evening, we moved in with our Q´eqchi families. Karla and Sara had an impromptu sewing lesson with one of their sisters. Sonnie and Amy were killed via “slingshot” more than 20 times, thanks to their 3-year-old nephew. All 4 paritas began to develop our tortilla making skills, to the amusement of our families.

Las Jugadoras y La Enfermerita

Upon our arrival at Bezaleel, we began our day with an impromptu music class on the soccer field. Then, we divided up to teach English classes. Amy is fairly certain the only word her class will remember is “kiss”. As part of English classes, we took some of the kids on nature walks. After English classes, Amy left with Phyllis to volunteer at the clinic and tour the hospital. Luke, Karla, and Sonnie taught the younger kids to play Capture the Flag, while Sara played soccer with the older ones.

The Dream Team
Our project of the day was to paint the library red and bright yellow. We got high on paint fumes and accomplished our task. For English class we taught American slang, including “What´s up?” and “ditto”. We sat and talked with kids for hours, exchanging Q´echi and English words and phrases. It was extremely hard to leave at the end of the day. When we got back to our homes, we had the delightful pleasure of taking bucket baths. (Seriously, we loved it!) After baths, Amy and Sonnie played Dutch Blitz with 2 of their siblings.

Las Aventureras Traviesas
We dawned early and took a micro bus to the town of Lanquin. Then we rode in the back of truck to Semuc Champey (thereby fulfilling all of our transportational desires). Semuc Champey is a gorgeous waterfall that Luke told us about. We spent the day swimming and climbing. And as we remembered sunscreen, we did not repeat the experience of Monday. We returned to Carcha to enjoy our last evening with our families. Amy and Sonnie attempted to balance water jugs on their Heads. Epic Fail! Karla and Sara played the ultimate Mennonite game… and won!

The Brokenhearted Girls
We´re sitting here in the park in Coban, dreading returning to Guatemala City. It’s been a day of goodbyes to new families and friends. And our hardest goodbye is yet to come, as we leave Guatemala tomorrow.

-Amy Layman, Karla Mumaw, Sara Beachy, and Sonnie Seigfried

Friday – we left as soon as we finished our classes at CASAS in order to get an early start
Saturday – we saw 2 quetzal birds
Sunday – we slept in tree houses
Monday – we slept in hammocks
Tuseday – we hiked/hacked through the jungle for 7 hours and visited 5 caves
Wednesday – we rode horses back from the jungle
Thursday – we spent 8.5 hours on buses and had peanut butter/Nutella sandwiches for lunch
Friday – we spent the day swimming through caves by candlelight, tubing down a river, and swimming in the pools of Semuc Champey
Saturday – we explored the incredible market in Coban

-Katie Jantzen, Allison Sherer, and Bethany Johnson

Before I left on the trip I decided to make a map on Google to show where all we are going.  I’ve gradually updated bits and pieces while here, but as of the last two weeks, it will take me many hours to make any progress. We’ve been studying at Jerusalem University College.  We’re told that we are doing a semester’s worth of work in a two week period.  Feels like it.

We have traveled all over Israel; from the Negev up to the Syrian Border, stopping to look at the geography of the area and place it in Biblical contexts.  As some have put it, we “stand on one hill to look at another”. We spent the last four days in the Galilee area, staying at a sea-side resort.  After the long days of studying and climbing, nothing was better than wetting our feet and sitting on the beach.

I wish I could list all the places we’ve been, but I’ll just say if it has any significance, we’ve probably been there.  If it’s named in the Bible,  we’ve probably talked about it.  And if it has at least 2 tour groups a day, we’ve definitely done it.

Some highlights from these past two weeks include; swimming in the Sea of Galilee, bobbing in the Dead Sea, hacky-sacking EVERYWHERE, yelling “Eagle!” from heights, frolicking in meadows…what day doesn’t come with some good times?

We are about half way done with the semester as we head into free travel (which is not free in a monetary sense by any means).  I think we would all agree that the semester is speeding up and before we know it we’ll be leaving Rome for the US.  How do you take it all with you?

-Michael Swartzendruber

We are at the end of our time here at JUC (Jerusalem University College). Over the past two weeks we have found ourselves in a different sort of adventure each day, whether looking out at the battlefield of David and Goliath, sitting on the side of Mount Carmel, or floating in the Dead Sea.

Scripture has truly come alive to me as we have not only been studying but also experiencing this land.  The stories that we have read and discussed in specific locations take on a new meaning.  For example, as a group we have constantly been revisiting the ideas of shepherding, farming, and fishing.  The imagery so often used throughout the Bible of these three things makes so much sense as you are looking out into the dry and arid Judean Wilderness, hiking down into the lush Sorak Valley, or out on a boat on the Sea of Galilee.

As we move from JUC, I hope to not only remember what I have experienced here, but to forever allow this land to be a part of me and transfer this information into the different contexts of my life, and ultimately that through it all I may come to know God more. (Jeremiah 9:23)

-Ellie Barnhart

We left for Tikal, Peten, at five in the morning. Most of us were dead on our feet until we received our brown bag breakfasts consisting of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and yogurt. As of lately, peanut butter has become a hot commodity in our group. You could bribe someone with just a jar of peanut butter. We took a small plane that arrived in the densely forested Peten around eight in the morning.  And surprisingly, it was not hot. Apparently, a cold front was going through the area, which proved quite nice as we hiked through the jungle that surrounded the ruins at Tikal. The Mayan ruins were beautiful and inconceivably old (proving that there is something older than Profe Donaldo). To reach the top of the tallest pyramid, we had to climb wooden stairs, which might as well have been a ladder.  There above the trees, we could see the tips of the other pyramids and the mountains far off in the distance. How strange it must have been for the Mayans to see this world, a vast expanse of trees that seemingly ended where the mountains began. In Mayan tradition, they tell a story about ancestors who could see everything in the world. Nothing was hidden from them. Had the Mayans been able to see the whole world like their ancestors, perhaps they could have seen beyond the mountains that bordered the valley. But as it was, it seemed that everything ended with the mountains.

After lunch, we headed to our hotel, El Gringo Perdido (in other words, the lost white guy). The hotel was snuggled against Lake Peten Itza. Our little rooms, covered with a thatched roof, opened onto a beautiful view of the clear lake, which provided some excellent swimming all weekend. There were also coconut trees, which Cody shimmied up and retrieved an unripened coconut from. We ate our meals at the hotel, which disappointingly did not include tortillas, but the homemade bread was very good. And for supper, we even got dessert, quite a commodity seeing as dessert is not a norm in Guatemala. The geckos, monkeys, and brightly colored birds were the only things that called us back to the reality that we were, in fact, in Guatemala.

On Sunday afternoon we left for the airport, making it back to Guatemala City in an hour, and the general consensus was that we never should have left Peten…..and used more sunscreen.

-Stacy Kinkaid

This past week, Jessica and I stayed in Coban for an extra day, because my Compassion child, Blanca, lives in town called Tamahù which is just south of there. A man named Ivan from the Guatemala City Compassion International office was supposed to pick us up at 9 a.m. Unfortunately, there was a teacher’s strike which blockaded the highway and didn’t move until noon. And when Guatemalans are stuck in traffic, they just drive in the opposing lane, which, of course, creates a massive traffic jam. Poor Ivan spent 5 hours in traffic, and finally arrived at our hotel around 3 p.m. Fortunately, Blanca and her family live within walking distance of our hotel, and the director of the Compassion project where Blanca goes to school had brought them to our hotel earlier in the afternoon.

The visit in itself was not terribly exciting. The hotel had a playground, so we stayed there and played for a while and talked. Blanca is very shy and quiet, so her brother Henri and her dad Filoberto did most of the talking. Jessica took lots of pictures. On the surface, it was rather platonic, but it’s something that has continued to be on my mind and heart for the last week. For the last almost 5 years, I have received letters and pictures from this little girl, and I’ve spent the last 6 weeks learning about her country. Somehow this meeting was more of a culmination point, and it was incredibly humbling. Filoberto thanked me multiple times for helping his daughter. Yet, I feel as if I am somehow the one who has been blessed. It’s an overwhelming honor to be able to give this gift to this family. Even as I sit here, it’s a struggle to express how much this one simple thing meant.

For the last several weeks, I’ve had a difficult time seeing the poverty and brokenness of Guatemala and being unable to do anything helpful. It’s so easy to be completely overwhelmed by the violence, both past and present, and by the number of people who are barely surviving. Meeting Blanca has made me realize that though I can’t change the world or Guatemala, I can change the world of one little girl in tiny Kek’chi village. And it’s made me realize how big God is; that He can bring together two random people – a college student from Pennsylvania and a little girl from Tamahù. I feel incredibly privileged to be part of what God is doing in Guatemala.

As a slightly humorous after thought, we left Tamahù around 4:15 to make the 4 hour trip back to Guatemala City. There was an accident, and Jessica and I had the pleasure of experiencing a Guatemalan traffic jam. And poor Ivan got to spend two more hours in traffic.

-Sondra Siegfried

One of our sessions included a field-trip to the Guatemalan Forensic Anthropology Foundation (FAFG).  Our entire time here everything we learn seems to connect in some way to the years of violence Guatemala has experienced.  Over 200,000 people have died or disappeared in the conflict and despite the signing of the peace accords in 1996, peace is still a hope more than a reality.

One way that peace is being pursued in this country is by shedding light on what has passed during the violence.  Stories are being told and lives shared.  The FAFG is working to help families discover and bury their dead loved ones.  A family can come to the FAFG and say that they think their relative was killed and buried in a certain spot.  The FAFG will use their technology to discover if there is a body there.  Then once they get a court order they can exhume the body, identify it, discover how the person died, and return it to the family to be laid to rest.  This gives the family the opportunity to properly mourn their dead, as many of them did not have the chance at the time.

We took a tour of FAFG’s facilities and saw their storage rooms.  The room was filled from floor to ceiling with boxes, each containing a skeleton and evidence, representing a person with a history and a family and a life lost in a pointless violence.  Despite, these seemingly hopeless boxes that filled the place, there is hope!  These people are being remembered and that alone can bring peace and relief from sorrow to the communities they left behind.  As a biology major interested in bringing peace and healing, this was a touching place, I hope to be able to use my knowledge to bless others as the FAFG does.

-Bethany Johnson