The longest shortest flight ever.

From Ramallah 4/20/09 9:48 PM

A fruit and vegetable market in downtown Ramallah.


Ramallah, West Bank, Palestine — Today I arrived in Ramallah to begin working for CARE International, though I won't report to the office until tomorrow. Monday was a holiday in Palestine in honor of Easter, celebrated a week later by Arab Christians. I took advantage of the Easter festivities in Cairo by going to a Coptic Christian service in Zamalek, the neighborhood where I lived last Autumn before traveling to Gaza. Coptic Christians number about 8 million in Egypt, roughly ten-percent of the population. The Coptic community predates Islam by several hundred years and is a direct descendent of one of the earliest Christian groups. The Copts are orthodox, and they have a pope in Cairo called the Baba. Arabic doesn't have a "p" phoneme, so "Papa" becomes "Baba." Pope is also "Papa" in Spanish and Italian. The service was very different from what I grew up with in Episcopalian and Catholic churches. There was a lot of incense, a lot of standing (no sitting, in fact), constant chanting, and no liturgy or sermon. My theory is that hours of standing and chanting in the Coptic church equate to self-flagellation and other forms of self-chastisement in the name of God that one finds in European traditions. I felt like I was in the Army all over again, and I began to slouch almost immediately, leaning on the pew in front of me in a mixture of boredom and fatigue, only slightly worried that everyone around me would think I was a weak-willed sinner, lacking the moral fortitude and yearning spirit necessary to stand stick-straight for God. Well, I suppose they may have been onto something. Fear of God contributes to good posture.

From Ramallah 4/20/09 9:48 PM

The view of Ramallah from my hotel. One of the first things I've noticed is that there aren't super high walls around all of the family homes as there are in Gaza, and graffiti doesn't flank every walkway in town.


The El Al flight from Cairo to Israel last night was a hell of an experience. It took me over an hour to check-in, despite the fact that I was the only person in line. My bags were thoroughly ransacked and the security officials interrogated me to the point where I finally wondered if they were just delaying me so that I would miss the flight because they had already made up their minds that I was up to something fishy, which, of course, I was not. I had the invitation letter from CARE in hand clearly stating the purpose of my visit to Israel and the Palestinian Territories, the length of my stay, the address of my hotel and of the CARE office. I could hardly have been a less shady character, despite the fact that it was two o'clock in the morning and I was flying from Cairo to Tel Aviv, on a flight that doesn't exist according to the El Al Airlines website. That fact amuses me. Do they keep it off the list of origins and destinations for PR reasons? Do they fly at 2:45 (it's a one hour flight) for PR reasons too? Not wanting people to see an Israeli flag on the tail of the El Al 747, lined up with all the Gulfie jets and European carriers? In terms of security, it is probably better to ensure that people buy their tickets between Cairo and Tel Aviv in person. Still, there's something a little weird about the whole thing. I wonder if there's a flight to Lebanon too? Or Syria? Tehran? No, probably not. The Cairo to Tel Aviv line is unique — it's an indicator of how close the two countries actually are.

Israel is beautiful. I only saw it from the window of the car this morning, but I got a good scoop of farmland and scrub brush covered piedmont that looked more like Tuscany than anywhere else I can think of. It wasn't easy to enjoy, however, knowing the history of that much contested, much changed land and knowing, of course, where I'm going.

From Ramallah 4/20/09 9:48 PM

Another view from my hotel shows an illegal Israeli settlement perched on a hill above Ramallah. Settlements like these coat all the hilltops of greater Jerusalem. For West Bank residents, the continually expanding settlements, or "mustamaraat," are a source of fear and resentment.