Israel‘s 8-meter (26 foot) high “Security wall” separates Israeli-controlled Jerusalem from the fully Palestinian-controlled areas of the “West Bank” (or, as one Palestinian said to me, “Occupied Palestine”). Similar to a modern day version of the Berlin Wall, this “security wall” effectively serves to imprison the Palestinians, as, short of a special permit, Palestinians are not allowed to enter Israel-proper (West Bank-based Palestinians are not Israeli citizens) and vice-versa for Israelis (with exception to those settlements you’ve heard so much about…).

For foreigners, though, the journey between the two cities is a relatively painless one. And after clearing the prison-like checkpoint to enter the Palestinian Territory, you’re free to go (nobody ever looked at my passport, despite my having gone back and forth twice).

What I found particularly fascinating about this wall, and in fact Bethlehem itself (which I was otherwise no fan of) is the graffiti that lines the Bethlehem side. These are scenes of protest, images of political prisoners, statements of support and just plain artwork. It’s a flash point of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict right in front of you…

I was really taken by this and would love to share some of those images with you now:

What do you think?

What are your thoughts on this wall?

Original Content: Photo Essay: Graffiti on Bethlehem’s “Security Wall” from Aaron's Worldwide Adventures - Unlikely Places. Ultimate Experiences.. All rights reserved.

If you’re just joining me in this story, I might suggest that you read Part I first to read about the good parts of this special day in Bethlehem. If you already have, you’re about to learn why I declared this night to be one of my biggest disappointments.

The Rain

Those bright blue skies earlier had given way to a torrential downpour, one that had manifested itself while I and some fellow CouchSurfers had settled in for some dinner. We had planned to meet up and enjoy the entertainment that was supposed to go on all night in Manger Square, right outside of the Church of the Nativity. They hard already started singing Christmas Carols in Arabic on a large stage in the square and we were eager to get back there to hear more.

But as we wandered back to the square, we found that the rain had scared everyone away. Gone were the performers. Gone was the stage. Gone was the crowd. Manger Square looked like a ghost town…and it was only 7:00pm!

There was really not much of a point of being in Bethlehem if there was nothing to do, a point that was not lost on several of the CouchSurfers in my group, who said their goodbyes and made their way back to Jerusalem. And so, we were down to just 3.

Mindless Boredom

What to do…. Here we add 5 hours to go till the Midnight Mass started and, though we knew we wouldn’t be able to go to the mass, we were all keen to check out the live broadcast out in the square. The rain poured on.

Why not take a walk? After all, it’s probably the biggest night of the year in this town so surely everything will be open, right? Well, by 8:00pm the market was pretty much closed up and so was just about every other shop. And it was raining…and at this point, freezing too, so spending more time outside was not such an enticing concept.

So we confined ourselves in a nearby hostel, where one of the CouchSurfers had booked themselves a room for the night. In this case, a room meant a gym mat on the floor since they were completely booked. I was lucky enough to get a room on the outskirts of town at the last-minute. And we killed a few hours by sitting around trying to get warm and dry off.

By 11:00pm, we were back on the Square, resigned to the 3 souvenir shops that were open which sold nothing but Christian paraphernalia. At this point, we were all so drained and miserable and sick of the whole experience that we’d started making some fairly sacrilegious statements, so we thought it best if we chill outside.

The Mass

As we wandered back outside (where it was still raining) we saw a bunch of people standing behind a barricade holding up their cameras. We went to see what was up and somehow ended up on the opposite end of the barricade, right along a line of heavily armed Palestinian soldiers. There was a series of black cars in front of us, one of which had license plate #1 on it. It was Mahmoud Abbas’ car…

“Maybe if we just stand here, nobody will notice,” one of my fellow CouchSurfers whispered to me. That worked for about a minute before we were very kindly asked to move and we joined a group of people heading through a restaurant to what ended up being the entrance for folks with tickets, which we lacked.

Turned away, we found the screen where they were broadcasting the happenings inside the church. It looked quite nice. But there was a small problem. There was no audio!

So the 20 or so of us who were foolish enough to be standing out there in the rain watching the silent mass, did was seemed most fitting at the time. We sang Happy Birthday to Jesus. And then, we went to bed!

Christmas Morning

It was still raining when I awoke on Christmas morning. I was so cold. Some of my stuff was still wet. And all I wanted to do was get the hell out of Bethlehem. I’d had a miserable experience the night before and I wanted to get to a warm place and into some dry clothes pronto!

Yes, there are things to do in Bethlehem on Christmas morning that anyone can do. There are plenty of masses one can attend, even at the Church of the Nativity (no tickets required for this one). But I, and my fellow CouchSurfing friends, wouldn’t have it! We were hell-bent on getting out of there, so we scoured the Calle de Estrella, which had led us through the Old City, for some breakfast but resigned ourselves to the remnants of a hotel buffet.

Soon enough, we were back at Israel’s enormous and  graffiti-covered “Security Wall,” separating the Palestinian “West Bank” from Jerusalem. A kind driver took pity on us getting drenched out there, that he drove us through the checkpoint. Upon arrival back at the Old City, it was still raining and still cold. We all needed warmth and this was not the place to find it!

Heading South

Eilat. We agreed that we would all be heading there. It’s the southernmost city in Israel, located on the Gulf of Aqaba that opens into the Red Sea. It was bound to be warm down there! So the next day I hopped a bus, with no terribly concrete plans. I’d already thrown my original plans out the window in favor of warmth! Wedged between Egypt and Jordan, Eilat was the perfect outlet to go to either.

Egypt honestly wasn’t even in the cards. That is, until I made a friend on the 5 hour bus ride. A friend who I’d end up visiting in Iraq! He said, “I’m going to Cairo, you should come with me!” Famous last words as the next day my journey would take a sharp, unexpected turn and I’d see this….

Sound Off!

How would you have reacted in this situation? And how has weather affected your travel plans?

Original Content: The Travesty That Was Christmas Eve in Bethlehem: Part II (A Very Wet Night) from Aaron's Worldwide Adventures - Unlikely Places. Ultimate Experiences.. All rights reserved.

Following the Star…

It started out as a happening afternoon, as I made my way through Israel‘s 8-meter (26 feet) high, prison-like security wall that separates portions of the Palestinian “West Bank” from the rest of Israel. After shunning the gaggle of taxi drivers offering to drive the roughly 20 minute walk to Manger Square, situated directly in front of the Church of the Nativity, I followed the throngs of people making their way towards the old city.

Up the Calle de Estrella (Street of the Star) the crowd went, only to be sidelined by a rather wonderful procession. Here was a parade of young people in uniforms that proudly bore the Palestinian flag, marching with instruments. They appeared to be the Palestinian equivalent of the Boy and Girl Scouts! The “Grand Marshal” of this procession? Why none other than Santa Claus himself, riding down the Street of the Star in a Jeep!

The procession ended right at everyone’s destination for the night…Manger Square. Ahead of me was the rather enormous Church of the Nativity, quite the place to be on this night with its famous Midnight Mass, which, as I knew, you needed a ticket to attend and those tickets would have had to have been obtained, oh, 6 months ago. But fear not, the mass was to be broadcast live in Manger Square for the all to see!

Church of the Nativity

Barricades surrounded the entrance to the church, but despite it being such an eventful night, you could in fact walk right in. As I approached the rather enormous-looking entrance way, it was hard to miss that the door got progressively smaller. In fact, it had been filled in so many times that you had to duck just to get in!

Honestly, the inside the church is pretty lackluster looking. After visiting the gorgeous Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem (where Christ is said to have been crucified and buried), I was rather disappointed. But I was here to see the very place where he was born right? To my right, I noticed a large crowd of people and I figured that they must be waiting to get down to the Grotto.

The Grotto of the Nativity

It was a very long, disorganized wait to get to the Grotto, as people tried to shove their way to the front of the clump gathered by the top of the staircase. Palestinian soldiers carefully controlled the flow of people in and out.

I had been waiting 20 minutes or so when a soldier shouted, “This is the exit! Entrance is there!” He pointed across the room at an exceptionally long line of people that wrapped its way around the building. Nobody budged.

See, I may have been waiting at the exit (which I hadn’t realized till just now), but they were letting people in on my side. And they continued to periodically do so. At least until one of the soldiers asked an Indian fellow how many were in his party. “8” he replied. “No! This line is for small groups only! Large groups over there,” the soldier replied, pointing across the room. Then that suddenly turned into “All Indians in the other line, go!”

The rest of us wondered what would happen to us. But I had quietly mentioned to someone who looked like they were in charge that I was just 1 and as the soldiers started pushing people away, someone tugged on my sleeve and motioned me in…

The Grotto itself was nothing to write home about. I made a quick round. Saw the “spot” that everyone was trying to touch. And made my way out.

The Excitement Builds

Back on the Square, the excitement was building. It was now 5:30pm and the large stage that had been set up became the center of attention! After some speeches that I could not understand by a bunch of well-dressed people, singers took the stage singing tunes that sounded awfully familiar. Christmas Carols! The same Christmas Carols you hear played endlessly in stores back home, but sung in Arabic!

I had seen on CouchSurfing that there was a meetup planned for the night, so I joined in the group, which amounted to 5 of us. We were all hungry and left the confines of the lovely Christmas Carols for a delicious dinner of falafel and humus. Sure, it wasn’t the kind of Christmas Eve dinner one would expect at home, but you can’t argue that this wasn’t traditional…at least for this part of the world!

By the time we finished eating it was 6:45pm and that’s right about the time that a large thunderclap hit. And then, it started to rain. And by rain, I mean pour, and my night would not be the same again…

The Story Continues…

What would happen in the next 5 hours to make this night a true a travesty? Find out in Part II!

Sound Off!

Do you have any interesting Christmas Eve stories? Let me know in the comments below!

Original Content: The Travesty That Was Christmas Eve in Bethlehem: Part I (The Good) from Aaron's Worldwide Adventures - Unlikely Places. Ultimate Experiences.. All rights reserved.