Free time reports from the Middle East

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

Free Time Reports from Guatemala

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

“Been there, done that”

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

Scripture comes alive in Israel

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

Exploration in Guatemala

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

Bringing peace, burying bones

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

Discovering Beauty in Simplicity

This weekend’s trip to the Cobán area was, for me, a chance to discover beauty in simplicity. On Friday night we ate supper with missionaries Galen and Phyllis Groff. They had simply ordered pizza, but it was delicious and we had a wonderful time learning from them about the culture of the indigenous Kekchi people. That night we went to the Bezaleel Kekchi Mennonite School. We stayed in simple beds in simple rooms above the simple auditorium, the place for the guests. We absolutely loved it. In the female’s room, fifteen of us shared our clothes, our combs, our stories, and our laughs and became even closer to one another within our group.

The meals at Bezaleel are a very simple affair. They were simply beans and tortillas, sometimes an egg, but for us they provided the opportunity to sit with the boys of the school and get a glimpse into their lives. We saw the vocational arts program for the middle school students. There were only the simplest of supplies, but these classes provide the opportunity to greatly enrich the lives of the students.

A Saturday afternoon soccer game against the boys of the school was played on a simple dirt field with four large mud puddles. For us, it was a chance to run around, get filthy, laugh a lot, be with the students, and lose the game (even with the help of one of their sympathetic students on our team!). The talent show in the evening was nothing elaborate – few decorations, few props. The talent, however, was amazing. We heard beautiful songs, listened to a moving reflection on life, laughed at some hilarious skits, and shared our own talents, which paled in comparison.

After a Kekchi Mennonite church service on Sunday, we ate with local families. The meal was simple soup. However, this caldo – the region’s dish for special occasions – was delicious and contained the best-tasting meat I’ve ever eaten in my life. We felt so blessed when we heard that the family had taken three days to prepare this meal for us.

The cloud forest of the Alta Verapaz region was beautiful, and the towns quite nice, but the truly beautiful things we found were the simple experiences with the students of the school. Depending on the way we choose to look at things, we can see beans and tortillas (not again!), mud puddles that ruin a soccer game, and a lack of technology at the school…or we can see relationships, laughter that means the same thing in English, Spanish, or Kekchi, and the hand of God in our time there during which we were allowed to learn about beauty from simplicity.

– Katie Jantzen

Life in Guatemala – bridal shower and bartering

My time so far in Guatemala has been enjoyable and I am experiencing a lot. My host family is really wonderful! My host brother is actually getting married next weekend and I was invited to his fiancee’s bridal shower. This was a new experience for me because I have never been to a bridal shower in the United States let alone one in Guatemala. I wasn’t sure what to wear but I saw how my host family was dressed and just wore church clothes. I was glad that I did because the bridal shower was more like a formal dinner party. It took place in the really fancy hotel and it was set up like we were at a conference. This was not what I was expecting when I was told that I was invited; I was expecting us to sit around someone’s living room and talk about the wedding and give gifts.

The first thing that happened was a few people got up and gave short speeches about love in and with Christ and love within a relationship. I didn’t quite understand what they were talking about because it was all in Spanish, but I got the main idea. We then played a game where you match up the description of the person with the person’s name, like for example your aunt’s brother and your answer would be your uncle; certain prizes were handed out for the right answers. We then were given a sheet of paper and you were supposed to give advice to the bride and the best advice got a prize. The prize thing was different for me because I thought that at a bridal shower you gave gifts that were supposed to go to the bride. We then had a fancy dinner that was delicious and during our meal the bride handed out most of her invitations. This was something I wasn’t expecting because in the United States most people I know have sent their invitations in the mail. The future bride got around to every table to say hello and chat with everyone throughout the evening, which was something I enjoyed because she really wanted everyone to be comfortable.

Even though I couldn’t understand what was going on most of the time I enjoyed myself. And no, I am not going to be able to make it to the wedding, but I had a wonderful experience at the bridal shower.

-Erin Huddleston

Weekend trips are an oasis that we look forward to each week; a break from the routine of morning Spanish classes and Spanish immersion within our host families. They mean shortened Friday Spanish classes, long bus rides full of “get to know you questions” (usually courtesy of Brent), plenty of exciting photo ops, and more opportunities to practice our bartering skills. This weekend we all piled in a big van and headed out to Santiago de Atitlan. On the way we stopped at a coffee cooperative where they produce fair trade coffee that smells absolutely amazing. We were a little disappointed that we didn’t get to sample the coffee, but that didn’t stop us from purchasing a bunch of it to bring back to the U.S. In Santiago de Atitlan we stayed in a cute, little, semi-sketchy hotel with two levels and a little open air courtyard in the middle, complete with hammock and shrubbery.
On Saturday we visited the Cathedral in Atitlan and got a personal tour of the surrounding towns by a local man, Antonio, who explained to us the problems faced there during the civil war, as well as the negative impact of a massive mudslide that was caused by hurricane Katrina. After the tour we had lunch at the ANADESA cooperative where we had the opportunity to purchase beautiful beaded jewelry made by the indigenous women there. Then, in the afternoon we had free time, which basically means we got to explore Santiago de Atitlan, shop for souvenirs, take pictures and generally goof off.

The group I was with decided to shop, since by now we are basically pros at bartering. We found beautiful handmade duffel bags for a whopping Q300each, and were able to barter the price down to Q100 per bag. The first time most of us had to barter was in Chichicastenango and we were basically terrified. The thought of refusing to pay the price someone told us for their products was so foreign that we had a hard time wrapping our heads around it. Now however, most of us think we will want to barter at the shopping malls back in the states as well… “What do you mean I have to pay $30 for that pair of jeans? I’ll give you $10 for them…” We’re thinking that probably won’t go over too well. However, just in case you ever find yourself in a situation where you have to barter here are some tips from the experts.

1. Don’t be timid. If you seem unsure of yourself they’ll pick up on it right away and you’ll end up paying more. Be confident.
2. Start by offering to pay about 50% LOWER than their asking price. You can’t start too low. The lower you start the lower the final price is likely to be.
3. Don’t appear to be too interested. Increase the dollar amount in small increments; this makes you seem more hesitant which is good if you want a low price.
4. Don’t be afraid to walk away if you aren’t loving the price they are saying! Sometimes walking away means getting the best deal. If not, you will probably find a better deal somewhere else.

Follow these four easy steps and you may be lucky enough to score a great deal like decreasing the price of a Q300 hammock to Q180, or a Q220 jacket to Q100. You will also feel a wonderful surge of pride at your ability to snag a great deal, because who doesn’t love saving money?

Now, back to Atitlan for a second. After a day of tours, walking, and shopping we relaxed before our Sunday trip across the lake to Panajachel where we got to shop some more before the long ride back to Guatemala City. In case there was any doubt in your mind, Lake Atitlan is stunning. We all loved our lancha ride across the sparkling lake surrounded by majestic volcanoes. It was the perfect end to our weekend trip in Santiago de Atitlan.

-Jessica Hedrick

Reports from Palestine

Marhaba, everyone! Hello from Beit Sahour, Palestine, where the group will be staying for the next two and a half weeks. Our time in Beit Sahour will be spent touring Palestine, studying Arabic, listening to lectures from professors at Bethlehem University College, and interacting with our host families. Lucas and I are staying with Adeeb, our host-father, host-mother Hyfah, and brothers Elias and Hosam. The hospitality that we have experienced in just the past few days has been incredible. Everyday after classes we are excitedly greeted by Adeeb who asks us all about our day as we enjoy a feast prepared by Hyfah, usually consisting of pita, rice, tea, homemade lemonade, and some sort of chicken dish. Needless to say, we are by no means going to bed hungry at night!

Today we spent most of the day at Bethlehem University College where we listened to a lecture about Palestinian literature, got a tour of the University campus, and had the chance to interact with students. The students spoke to us about the difficulties they sometimes have just getting to school, mainly due to the Israeli checkpoints. What should be fifteen to twenty minutes drive sometimes takes hours longer and students are often late to class or miss class completely because of these delays. Many students choose to live in Bethlehem away from their families instead of commuting to avoid the hassle of the checkpoints. I have been hearing other stories of how peoples’ everyday lives are affected by the way and the checkpoints, but the students’ stories hit even closer to home. These students have to daily live with the reality of the wall and the Israeli occupation, and to see how the lives of people my own age are impacted made the situation all the more real to me.

Though much of the conversation with these students left me feeling confused and frustrated about their realities, one encouraging sign that I saw was in the relationships between the Christian and Muslim students. I was always under the impression that relations between Christians and Muslims were tense, but what I saw at Bethlehem University proved that impression wrong. The students not only coexist with one another but they accept and form friendships across religious lines. Though this my not be the case everywhere, I saw it as a sign of hope for the peaceful existence between all peoples regardless of race or, as in this case, religion.

– Aaron Clemmer

One theme that seems to be floating on the surface of my mind, here in Palestine is ‘taking thing for granted’. By this, I do not mean the stereotypical cross-cultural inconveniences that one expects from this sort of trip (i.e. unpredictable showers, lack of toilet paper, and perpetually sandy socks). What I’m talking about is simpler than that; at home, I take for granted a level of security that many people simple can’t achieve.

I take for granted that my college campus won’t be set upon by tanks during class. I take for granted that no one will bulldoze my home and steal my family’s land. I take for granted that military officials won’t make me late for school on a weekly basis. Most importantly, I take for granted that, should any of these things occur, there will be dire consequences for the perpetrators. I take for granted that my voice will be heard. In Palestine, however, none of these things can be taken for granted.

My host family has a gorgeous house, two laptop computers, two cars, and three flat-screen televisions. They are clearly well-off and well-educated. Despite all these advantages, they are still under the thumb of the Israeli government. Even though they have worked hard to succeed and establish some sense of permanence, their security is anything but assured.

At any moment, their home and land might be seized by Israeli soldiers. They are not free to leave the country or even their hometown to visit relatives without obtaining a special permit from the Israeli government. They could be attached by Zionist settlers, and no one would raise a hand to save them.

No matter how hard they work, they will never achieve security through their success. Because they are Palestinian, they are second class citizens facing constant uncertainty and vulnerability. Because of their ethnic background, their voices are not heard.

-Brooke Snyder

Silent anticipation built as we left Jordan and entered Israel. We curved and climbed and went through a tunnel and then there it was, the old city of Jerusalem. We stopped near the Mt. of Olives and overlooked the land. Olive trees, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the Dome of the Rock, palm trees, sheep, the garden of Gethsemane, and in the distance beyond Bethlehem was Beit Sahour. This would be our home for the next few weeks. We loaded the bus again to travel the 4 miles from Jerusalem into Palestine. As we crested a hill our eyes met the wall, a 26 ft high, grey, concrete wall separating states, religions, and cultures. We had a rather effortless entry due to a push for international tourism. But we watched on as the adjacent checkpoint was lined with Palestinians attempting to enter back to their homes by foot.

We arrived and were met with open arms into our host families. I am living in Beit Sahour with a wonderful family that gives a whole new meaning to hospitality. They have 5 girls and life goes on here as usual: homework, sports, laughter, whining, sibling rivalry, meals, bedtimes… I feel so privileged to get a glimpse into something Americans often hold so private. These people would open their house to all of EMU if we could fit.

It’s been less than a week since we’ve arrived, and Beit Sahour has quickly become to me a place of paradox. This land is full of questions and answers, pain and joy, belief and struggle.

Among lectures and Arabic lessons we made a trip to the Church of the Nativity, the traditional site of Jesus’ birth. Speaking of paradox; the creator of the world came to us as a baby! My view on the character of Christ continues to expand. There is something special about this land and there are no easy answers to the conflict that saturates it. The more we learn the more complicated it seems. But I’m reminded of Isaiah 55:8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. My trust is in the Lord and His ability to reconcile all things.

-Sarah Demaree

Trusting God in Guatemala

During my time in Guatemala, I certainly have felt the presence of God. I feel so vulnerable living in a large city where I don’t know the language, and living in a country that has more violence and danger than I knew before coming. Yet God has given me a sense of peace and protection, and as I ride the public bus daily, I am able to relax and pray. The 2 buses I ride are old US school buses- sometimes they even have the old license plate mounted inside. Why were these buses not good enough for US schoolchildren anymore, but they’re fine for the Guatemalan public bus system? I’m glad the buses are being used, but maybe we’re used to things too nice in the United States.

Another reason I need God’s presence so much here is the confusion the language barrier creates. I feel like a stupid child when I speak to my host family, and I just wish they knew that I was the valedictorian in high school and I’m a gifted writer. The experience really gives you an identity crisis, and you get used to feeling awkward and not knowing “why” when something happens.

-Anna Engle

EMU Intercultural Learning