73. Bethlehem, 1999 - Christmas Eve

In which the friends hike again.

It’s the Bethlehem 2000 celebrations. The friends have plans. Big plans.

Eleanor

Manger Square is packed as we walk-in. Christmas decorations and lights line the square. The crowd is a mix of Christian Palestinians, Muslim Palestinians, pilgrims, tourists, dignitaries. The mood is celebratory. Tonight, the world’s eyes are on Bethlehem.

It was Rajji who conceived the idea.

“Why don’t we create an actual hike from Nazareth to Bethlehem, with hikers being able to overnight in various West Bank villages?” he asked us. There would be a map, tour guides, tourist dollars for the villagers. His company could market it.

It was brilliant.

Somehow Rajji got hold of precious Israeli maps of the West Bank and he and Jamal poured over them, discussing and debating. The most direct route was out: too many checkpoints, not enough Palestinian villages, not scenic enough. Generally they planned to stay more on the eastern side, with views down the wadis to the Jordan Valley and the Jordanian hills beyond.

True to the mission, we started our scouting and route-finding from Nazareth itself. The first section was flat across the valley, Mount Tabor to our left, meandering through agricultural fields. Then the first pull up into the Samarian hills. And then it was into the West Bank landscape. Rolling hills, olive orchards, almond trees and cacti plants, low stone walls demarcating plots, and the occasional spring.

We went out most weekends. Various friends joined us for different segments. Village kids hiked along with us part of the way, curious about this strange group of Palestinians and foreigners walking for pleasure from one village to the next. Starts were always slow and lengthy, as Jamal and Rajji met with village elders, explained what we were trying to do, and tea and coffee were served. Palestinian hospitality was always unwavering.

We were way off the beaten path—arriving at villages that rarely saw foreigners. Even for the Palestinians among our group, they were seeing parts of Palestine they had never been to. As we hiked through blazing heat, argued over reading the map, scouted for springs, and rested in the shade of olive and almond trees, our friendships deepened.

We had quite a scary experience on our second time scouting the Aqrabieh to Yanoun section. The first time we’d done it was in August. Then it had been uneventful, with nothing at all to bother us except the heat in a landscape of rolling valleys and hills, olive orchards, sheep pens, and ancient stone walls. It was a landscape of wide open skies, remote and deep in the West Bank. But a few months later, as we came up from the Yanoun valley and crested the rise, we suddenly found ourselves in the midst of a brand new Israeli settler outpost of about ten caravans on top of the hill above Yanoun, surrounded by bristling, snarling dogs.

They were as surprised as we were. But they were the ones with guns.

What the hell were we doing out here, they demanded. Who the hell were we?

Jamal and Rajji, in their unaccented, fluid English, calmly explained we were just a group of international students at Hebrew University exploring the West Bank. Remarkably the settlers seemed oblivious that they were actually Palestinians. Thomas and I could barely keep a straight face as Jamal agreed with one of the settlers, who had an Uzi casually slung over one shoulder, that yes, we’ll be careful and keep a look out for “Arab Terrorists”.

We continued to work our way southwards over successive weekends in the summer and fall. Rather than coming through Jerusalem, we routed the trek through Jericho. Descending to Ain Auja, then across to Jericho, up to Nabi Musa, and then through the spectacular Wadi Qelt. We lingered at St George’s Monastery, built right into the walls of the valley.

All of that planning and hiking is behind us now, though. Tonight we get to celebrate our accomplishment as friends, and we get to gift what we’ve created to Palestine as part of the Bethlehem 2000 celebrations. So here we all are, entering Manger Square. Rajji and Gillian are in the lead. Gillian rides on a donkey and is, in actual fact, pregnant. Camels walk alongside us. A path has been cleared before us, and we come through the Square, right up to the footsteps of the Church of the Nativity.

And now we are inside. The Church is filled with PNA Ministers, PLO leaders, the diplomatic corps, NGO leaders. The TV lights blaze. Cameras are everywhere. The Vienna Boys Choir’s glorious voices fill the church. Absolutely everyone who is anyone is here in Bethlehem tonight. It is Bethlehem who is leading the world into the millennium celebrations. The Palestinian Minister of Tourism is everywhere, beaming, talking to the press, directing the TV cameras. This is Palestine’s moment, and he is not squandering one second of it. Outside we hear the roar of the crowd. The mood is jubilant, celebratory, euphoric.

We are all riding the wave. Swept up with joy, and the history of this moment.

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Bonus Material

• “The Gang’s” adventures creating the Nativity Trail

• The Nativity Trail: first an idea, then a reality

• The idea lives on: in Jordan

• The Millenium Celebrations: The day the world didn’t end (despite predictions)