O Little Town of Bethlehem

I'm taking a three-day break in the "little town" of Bethlehem, just south of Jerusalem, which now has a population of 22,000, not counting the thousands of tourists that pour in every day. But I cannot escape the sad reality of the occupation. Three young female border guards with their green berets stopped my bus for a random check. It only took four minutes, and they just looked at my passport cover; did not open it. But they pulled two young men off the bus and detained them for questioning as the bus pulled away. I have no idea what happened to them.

In Bethlehem the towers of mosques and churches share the skyline with towers of Israel's separation barrier. My hotel is directly across the street from the 27-foot concrete wall, which blocks me from visiting Rachel's Tomb. A sign explained that the Oslo accords called for it to be under  Palestinian authority, but Israel assumed control and built the barrier around it.






The barrier has been profusely decorated by graffiti artists, with a weeping Christ and weeping Statue of Liberty, among other symbols.

Writing says "This is illegally occupied land
in the State of Palestine"

There are dozens of personal stories posted on the wall, like this one of a "dying woman."

A more inviting construction than the separation barrier is a millennium sculpture on Manger Street with an encouraging message of hope for coexistence.

The "untamed yearning for hope" was also evident at the Palestinian Conflict Resolution Center, Wi'am, whose office I visited briefly on my stroll. Their programs for conflict transformation, restorative justice, and meditation seek "to be a center of hope to a people living under occupation and a world that is brimming with the cries of injustice and oppression." (For more information about Wi'am, see their website at www.alaslah.org.)  

I also noticed a Christmas poster from the Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities in my hotel lobby with these encouraging words: "Justice is possible and hope is justified."