Christmas Comes But Thrice a Year

This past weekend was Eastern Orthodox Christmas, about two weeks after the Christmas of the Western Church and about two weeks prior to the Christmas of the Armenian Orthodox Church. People don’t agree on much over here. Having already celebrated “real” Christmas, I and the Browns and their out-of-town friends went down to Bethlehem to participate in the spectacle of the Greek Orthodox Patriarch coming to town. Vying with aggressive news cameramen and the religiously zealous who actually deserved to be there, I threw elbows, ran along with the mob and got pressed flat against the walls of Nativity Church trying to get photos of the Patriarch who I wouldn’t have been able to pick out of a lineup. (Unless he was in the lineup wearing his Greek Orthodox Patriarch garb. That would tip me off.)


Karin and I, caught in the mob. (That’s me and my camera reflected in her lens.)


The one with the scepter? He’s kind of a big deal.


Sebi jostling with the media. He took the above photo of the Patriarch.


“I want to say hi to my mom…” Interview with Al Jazeerah.


Inside Nativity Church, waiting for the Patriarch’s message. (He’s on the far right under the gilt canopy.)

Christmas 2006-07: Two down,

one to go.


On time for the first Christmas, I got a free tree, courtesy of the Israeli government. I still don't understand why, but it turned out real cute.


Also, it snowed. This happens rarely, and snow like this hasn't been seen in Jerusalem in six years, they say.







Our friend Ian, the most charming Scottish minister you could hope to meet, is in town for a few weeks, and we took advantage of his head full of poems to have a Poetry and Noodle Night at my apartment. Sixteen people crammed in for Japanese-inspired sesame noodles and a few hours of recitations and readings. You know you’ve crossed from collegehood into adulthood when you apartment, the morning after a party, is littered with pages of poetry and candles burnt down to the tin husks.