A Trip to the Border

On Saturday we went to the border.  It was emotional!  A lot of the Palestinian staff from the Bour el-Shamali camp got upset.  It must be terrible to see your homeland so close and yet know their's no way in.  There was a wall, and yes, the wall looked familiar.  The UN troops there were Indonesian and some took pictures of us.  Some people got angry at me, but I didn't mind much.  I'm sure my government already knows I'm here.  I don't think a picture of me at the border would make much difference.  Nor do I assume my picture will even be put it in a file. More likely some people in  Indonesian will mock the stupid faces the Americans made.

Then we drove onwards to Maroun al Ras.  A stranger town I could not imagine.  In honor of 

Ahmadinejad's visit there a few years ago, the town has virtually been transformed into an

Iranian theme park.  We watched young children playing elaborate paintball games and wondered what the Israelis only a few kilometers away thought of it.  To them, would it look   ike military training?  For whatever reason, their paintball vests said NYPD too.

I then found a mosque there.  It was only two years old, and it was haunting to me to imagine the people who had not yet prayed in it.



A song we listened to on the way:

Then on Sunday, I went to  the Roman ruins on the coast.  Originally, I had planned to join an impromptu boat trip set up by the program leaders, but when I woke up the next morning I wasn't really interested.  I'd been dying to go this whole trip and got excited at the prospect of a taxi driver who speaks English and was at the beck and call of only the 7 of us who hadn't gone boating.  And virtually no one was around so I got to wander them by myself.  It was beautiful.

Now I'm at that restaurant again.  Hezbollah is giving a speech.  I'll have to see how it goes.