Back in Winnipeg

We've been back only a few days now, but the Middle East seems so far away. We spent our last night on the roof of the Ecce Homo Convent in the Old City of Jerusalem, reflecting on our time together. Each of us shared our highlights - many could not stop at one - and each highlight brought on a lively discussion. We remembered Damascus - the Turkish baths, the Ummayyad Mosque . . . ; we recalled Lebanon - the friendly neighbours, the basketball, the frantic drive into Beirut; we thought of Petra and the Wadi Rum - sleeping under the stars, proudly waving on the top of the rock bridge.

We also reflected on our time in Israel/Palestine, trying to understand the reality of the occupation. We saw the occupation from three angles. First, we listened to Angela from the Israeli Commission Against House Demolitions. Angela explained her story - as an Israeli citizen she could no longer accept the reasons her government was giving for the occupation; she could not support settlement building or the demolition of Palestinian houses. Second, we listened to Ayman from the Alternative Travel Group. As a Palestinian Christian, he explained how his home town of Bethlehem has been changed by settlement building and the security barrier. It was sobering to walk along the snake like wall, reading the graffiti, seeing the many homes surrounded and separated. Third, we listened someone from the Christian Peacemaker Team in Hebron. It was a unique experience, sitting together on a Hebron rooftop, hearing about military and settler activity in the region, with IDF soldiers staring at us from a rooftop next door. All three of these peace group representatives implored us to speak about the occupation to people in Canada, and I'm sure that the students will do so. I'm sure that I will do so as well.

So now we just have memories. Some of us are still waking up from dreams in which we are wandering in the suqs of Jerusalem or Damascus. Many of us still smile when we think of camel rides or desert walks. And all of us have a new outlook on the Middle East, its religions, its politics, its people . . .

As we were in the midst of sharing on the last night, the evening call to prayer began to sound through the walls of the convent. We stopped talking and listened quietly to the harmonious sound, each of us wondering when we would be privileged to hear such a sound again. Some of us bought mosque alarm clocks . . . but I don't think they will live up to the real thing.