Our afternoon in Bethlehem was freezing and boring. Both, at the same time. We drove through the military checkpoint and past the massive concrete walls and razor wire. That was kind of exciting. Our Jewish guide had left us for his own safety, and we picked up a Palestinian guide.
We had a delicious lunch of salad and flafel, then did some shopping at one of the stores. On the way out we were accosted by numerous vendors hawking their wares. Though rather decrepit looking, each one evidently had a degree in consumer psychology. Many of us found ourselves on the bus with numerous items we'd never intended to buy. Dave Sheard, our compassionate elder vice chairman, for example, looked down at his hands once he was sitting down, and found himself staring at four wooden flutes.
After Barb was done posing with the policeman, we went inside the Church of the Nativity, supposedly the oldest standing church in the world. A mass was going on in the Greek Orthodox part of the church. And so we had to wait quietly while we listened to the liturgical chanting of the priests and inhaled some pretty potent smoke as one of them walked past waving the incense holder.
Moslem policemen kept us in line, saying "Ssssshhhh!" (Christian policemen would inevitably favor one of the three groups: Catholic, Armenian or Greek Orthodox). On the last annual cleaning day I remember watching on TV as these clerics fought with brooms over a boundary line dispute. No wonder our guide, a Palestinian Christian,told us they bring a hundred Moslem police in on cleaning days.
