Christmas Eve in Bethlehem

Christmas Eve in Bethlehem must be the holiest place to spend Christmas, I originally thought when I first booked my trip. It is the birthplace of Jesus and where thousands of missionaries flock all year long to pay homage. Little did I realize that it would be something entirely different.

If there's such a thing as a West Bank Night Out, last night would have typified it. The entire West Bank showed up to party with all the Christians. Everyone seemed in good cheer regardless of religion. The presence of the Palestinian President somehow ruined that cheerful mood for me. For security, the entire Palestinian army arrived in waves and with their big guns in tow. I felt like I had entered a war zone. Snipers scoured the rooftops, red maroon beret guys manned the entry points, men in camouflage controlled the crowd, black beret men arranged the logistics and men in full commando gear arrived in jeeps with their guns ready. The president arrived in one of the 12 cars that sped through the entry way. The first car almost ran over pedestrians as it cleared the path for the other cars. I'm not really sure which car the president was actually in, but I'm sure he wasn't in one of the vans open with commando geared men fully armed watching the crowds. I guess it was too risky to actually let him get out of the car. When the cars arrived, the closest maroon beret guy took off his safety lock from his gun and I suddenly was a a little scared of what might happen. Maybe it's all those Middle East stories of suicide bombers, demonstrations ending violence, or my own imagination of the worst that could happen that overcame me with fear. Thankfully, nothing horrible happened and the Palestinian's display of might and power never came to full fruition.


Getting into Midnight Mass proved difficult mainly because of all the overly pushy and aggressive Christians who wanted a good seat. Not exactly the Christmas cheer. I thought I might get squashed going through the security line, which I had to do twice since the president was going to be present. Once inside, I enjoyed hearing the service in many different languages, but when the president arrived, all the camera clicked and distracted everyone from the service. The same occurred when he left.



Earlier in the day, I attended the afternoon prayer held by the Latin Patriarch, the guy in the purple hat.



During the day, a parade of bagpipers, a tradition the Palestinians picked up during the British occupation, and kids with Santa hats filled the streets.