I realize, it is an odd combination, but here I am in Jericho, the West Bank, and I wanted to share a bit of the experience with yáll (for my Mississippi friends!). Just as a side note, Jericho is like the Palm Springs of Israel, but due to the occupation, Israelis, I understand, are not allowed to travel here (it is in the West Bank) so our group has this beautiful hotel to ourselves…

I am here in the West Bank and Israel as part of a conference with a group called Sabeel (www.sabeel.org for more info). They work with Palestinian Christians (yes, there is such a group) specifically in issues of suffering, justice and peace as it relates to the ongoing Israeli occupation. I realize this is a rather volatile topic to discuss, and it is not my intent to offend any of you, but I also have to say that I am finding myself less and less ‘neutral’on the situation. I am sorry that this email will not be as lighthearted as my encounter with the Austrian mad cows, but I do feel compelled to share with you what I have seen and heard. Yes, there are definitely two sides to the conflict here, but I would say that the two sides are not Israeli and Palestinian but those who are seeking peace and those who are resorting to violence.

Today we visited Bethlehem. At the risk of ruining a favorite Christmas carol, today the phrase ‘how still we see thee lie (or is it lay? I am not sure the song or the grammar…)’ was most definitely true, but not in the sentimentality of the song. Bethlehem is a Palestinian community, about 75% Muslim and 25% Christian. It is now surrounded by the Separation Wall (some would call it a ‘Security’Wall and others an Apartheid Wall, depending on your perspective). The people of Bethlehem cannot leave the town without a permit, which is very difficult for them to obtain. Bethlehem is about 10 minutes from Jerusalem and has traditionally been a suburb of it, with its residents working in Jerusalem. Its other economic livelihood has been tourism. Both have come to a near standstill due to the Wall. As I saw the Wall today and heard stories from Palestinian Christian leaders about the plight of their people, I struggled as to how I could possibly communicate the direness of the situation to you, without you being here to see it yourself. As I am using the hotels one computer, and there are others waiting to check email, I am afraid that I cannot be more polished in my presentation. To find out more and to see more statistical data you can check out the site Open Bethlehem, which I believe is www.openbethlehem.org . At the least, I would hope that if you find yourself singing that Christmas carol this year, you would remember the people of Bethlehem. I am sorry, I don’t mean to be Scrooge, but I feel that possibly the only thing that I can do to help the situation is to at least make it known.

One highlight of the trip is one of the other conference attendees, Eddie, who is the secretary of the World Council of Churches for South Africa. He was jailed during the apartheid struggle in South Africa and has been sharing his story over meals of hummus, pita, tomatoes, olives… It has also been wonderful to reconnect with five of the trip participants from my last year’s visit: Pat from NY, Sue and Sandy from CA, and Roger and Enid from England.

I do not want to keep the woman from Nicaragua waiting any longer (this conference is international and ecumenical, representing many continents and all major branches of the church including Catholic, Easter Orthodox, and many flavors of Protestant, but more on that later…) for the computer, so that is it for now.

Peace, Salaam (Arabic) and Shalom (Hebrew)

At the risk of only reporting on the food (and the weather!) I have to tell you that I had a genuine (gen-U-aihn…) southern meal yesterday at the Country Fisherman in Mendenhall, Mississippi—that’s right, fried catfish, fried chicken, fried green tomatoes, collard greens (not fried) and sweet tea—topped off with banana nilla wafer pudding for dessert! As if that wasn’t enough to shoot the cholesterol through the roof, this morning we started the day off with eggs, biscuits, bacon and sausage gravy. No salads for these Californians!

Yesterday a couple of us drove up to Mendenhall, Mississippi for the day to visit the Mendenhall Bible Church.  I have known of Mendenhall because St. Andrew’s Church has been working with them for years. About ten years ago, when my parents were traveling around the country in their motor home, they were in the area and decided to stop and visit Mendenhall to see the work they were doing there. As part of that visit they got a tour by Dolphus Weary, a black man who grew up in Mendenhall, and who, when he had a chance to leave for a better life said “I ain’t never comin’ back!”  Except that he did. He could have left, but he came back to try to help others who were still stuck in a life of poverty and some pretty intense racial prejudice—the rail road tracks literally split the town between the ‘wrong’ and the ‘right’ side of the tracks, depending on if you are black or white. It was hearing how much this encounter with Dolphus had impacted my dad, not someone to be easily moved, that made such an impression on me.

Back in Gulfport the work continues… I have some pictures up on www.edunny.com.  We are now a group of almost 50—our group from Newport Beach, Irvine and Westminster along with a group from Vienna, Virginia and a group that has just arrived from Greensboro, North Carolina. The North Carolina group have been trying to teach me how to sound like a southerner– “It’s y’all, not you all” and definitely not ‘you guys!’

One of the things I have been amazed by here on the gulf in Mississippi is how much work is left to be done—and how, much of the time, the system seems to be working against that. For instance, a group from our team was working outside of Biloxi, on the house of Mini. She just moved into her house (from her FEMA trailer) in September, but still does not have gas to the house for cooking and hot water. Our group had the ability and expertise to hook up her gas line for her, but found out that you cannot do that without a licensed plumber (I didn’t realize a plumber was in charge of the gas line?) from Biloxi to pull the permit. Problem is, the licensed plumbers in Biloxi are already booked up solid with work, and most of them would rather not work on houses like Mini’s when they have the option of working for larger industrial projects. Even if you were to find a licensed plumber from Gulfport who was willing to do it, he (or she) would not be able to because they are not licensed in Biloxi! Word is that this is an attempt to keep jobs for locals, but it seems to lack some basic common sense.  So, the bottom line is that people like Mini are left without the ability to cook, even though we could have her up and running—and all up to code, because of the politics. If anyone has a connection with the Mississippi state legislature, this might be a good topic for discussion!

At the same time as there is so much work to be done, it is also really amazing to drive through these neighborhoods and see how much work is being done, much of it by the churches. Person after person that I have talked to that we have been working with has said, if it weren’t for the churches, we don’t know what we’d do. It is an encouraging reminder, in the midst of how much bad press the church gets these days (and much of it deserved!), to see the churches, “walking the walk and not just talking the talk,” as one non-churchy, non-religious person from our group commented to me the other night.

Speaking of our group, it is an interesting mix. We have a few attorneys, a guy recently release from jail, architects, retirees, high school students, a grandmother and her grandson, a man who fought in the Korean War and a young Korean man, Pentecostals and Presbyterians and some who’ve never stepped foot in a church…all working together, getting to know each other, and helping the people of Mississippi. It really is an amazing experience. I asked George Bates, who runs the relief center here for the Presbyterian Church, if anyone could come down and help, or if they had to be part of a group. George, who has the most fantastic southern accent I think I have ever heard, said “well, if they wanted to come as a group of one that would be fine by me.” So, if you’re interested, there’s your invitation!

I am typing this from the sanctuary of Hannesboro Presbyterian Church, about twenty minutes outside of Gulfport, Mississippi. I am sitting on the floor behind the pulpit—the place where I found a plug that works. The church looks amazing—something I am told is because a lot of work cleaning it up since Katrina. Another interesting story about this church…apparently before Katrina the church and its facilities were open one hour a week, for Sunday services, and then closed up and unused the rest of the week. Now, in addition to housing much of our team for the week, it is the relief center for this part of Mississippi and has almost constant activity. Some higlights of the trip so far:
I am typing this from the sanctuary of  Hannesboro Presbyterian Church, about twenty minutes outside of Gulfport, Mississippi.  I am sitting on the floor behind the pulpit—the place where I found a plug that works.  The church looks amazing—something I am told is because a lot of work cleaning it up since Katrina. Another interesting story about this church…apparently before Katrina the church and its facilities were open one hour a week, for Sunday services, and then closed up and unused the rest of the week. Now, in addition to housing much of our team for the week, it is the relief center for this part of Mississippi and has almost constant activity.

Some higlights of the trip so far:

There are 27 of us on the trip, 8 women, 19 men. By some horrible twist of fate, the women are all sleeping in an unfinished barn (what used to be the tool shed) on cots and air matresses, while most of the men are in the ‘Grace House,’ which, among other things, is carpeted and has a large color tv! This is not right! When I walked in to the Grace House the guys were all sitting comfortably (there are no chairs for ‘sitting comfortably’ in the barn, and even if there were, there is no room for them among our wall to wall cots and air mattresses) watching the Broncos football game.  I did get quite a response from them when I asked if they would minding switing over to Desperate Housewives…
Just as a bit of background, the Grace House is a house that was bought by Grace Presbyterian, in Long Beach, with part of their funds from their recently building program—they figured they should spend some of that money investing in others, so they bought a place to house volunteers that are coming down to work on the rebuilding projects with Presbyterian Disaster Assistance.

I flew in a day ahead of the team and took the opportunity to visit friends from Scotland (but they are Americans), Tee and Kathryn, who live two hours away in Baton Rouge. The last time I had seen them was in Scotland about a year and a half ago, in the hospital, hours after their daughter Sarah was born, and as I was on my way to catch a train to begin my journey back to the US. So, it was fun to see Sarah, now 18, and Thomas, now just over 3, and to get to spend some time with Tee and Kathryn over dinner last night.

On my way back from Baton Rouge I drove through New Orleans. I have never been to New Orleans, so I don’t have anything to compare it with. I didn’t really know where I wanted to go, so I saw the Super Dome and drove past that, then found my way to Canal Street and onto Bourbon Street and through some neighborhoods of the French Quarter. I am ashamed to admit that one of the first things that came to mind was, ‘gosh, this looks so much like Disneyland, like…oh, that makes sense…like New Orleans square…’

I was back in Gulfport in time for lunch at, I am also afraid to admit it, Applebee’s. I do have this tendency toward liking chain restaurants, and I would love to say that it was just what was convenient at the time, but actually, I had seen this particular Applebee’s when I arrived yesterday and premedidated going there for lunch today! To my defense, we don’t have Applebee’s in Newport Beach, so it is not something I can get at home (though driving 30 miles could get me there, but who wants to expend all that effort just to go to Applebee’s??) and during my time in Princeton I became rather fond of their boneless buffalo wings. So, there I was, sitting in an Applebee’s, eating my boneless buffalo wings, when a woman, who seemed like a local, said to the others at her table, “We mighta shoulda gotten some of these here new potatoes…” I love it! I am definitely in Mississippi! Not only that, we had ‘sweet tea’ with dinner tonight.

I just got word that the lights in the barn are being turned out (it does have lights!) and since I am sleeping up in the loft, I should probably get out there and make my way up the ladder before I have to climb it in the dark…