A tough crossing back from Jordan to Israel/Palestine yesterday…..too long waiting for a Jordanian border crossing bus on one side, and then delibrately chaotic passport control on the Israeli side wasted 3 hours of life in 43 degree heat. Lovely. But back in Nazareth, and readying today for the next stage of the trip – a transfer to Ibillin, where the friendships and ministry all started back in the mid ’90’s. Sohil Haj and the Mafia (his sons) are on the way to collect me even as I type!
Jostling through the old city of Nazareth, through the souk in the glaring sun on my way for a drink in Tishreen (trendy coffee shop frequented by young trendy Nazarenes…hence why I fitted in quite well) – and seeing coachloads of tourists pile out of bus 11 from the Haifa cruise ship, produced the following thoughts yesterday. Forgive the poor prose…I am working on poetry!
The streets of (in)difference
Glazed and glare; did I see you there – or was I distracted by the shiny new souvenir, the cry of the (too) loudspeaker, the endless photo opportunity, the tour guide’s sharp instruction to take care, the IPad moment, the text coming in (causing me to move my fingers instinctively to make my connection with those a thousand miles away)?
Glare and glazed; was I so phased – I missed the poverty incoveniently laid out at my feet, the haunted eyes of the broken, the grubby handed, the staining dirt, the stark injustice, the lack of choice and crying pain?
I glaze and I glare – as I pilgrim on the streets of (in)difference, snatching at Jesus.
IW – Tishreen, Nazareth, 14/7/12