Foreigner

Our hotel room doors don't lock, but so far no bombs have collided with us, so I'm feeling good. Well, maybe not good. It's 3:46 am here, and I'm up blogging. Clearly my body still thinks I'm in Indy. But I'm not in the Mid-West; I'm in the Middle East. Wow!

We haven't done much yet, but the little bit of walking we did yesterday to find dinner was enough to give me goosebumps. Here's where David and Solomon and yes, Jesus, walked.

The trip over here was uneventful—we went from Indy, to Chicago, to Frankfurt to Tel Aviv and then on a shuttle bus to Jerusalem ... 25 hours of travel with about 4 hours of on and off sleep. The climate/landscape here reminds me of Colorado, but the buildings are ancient and people are a leee-tle more diverse. White American tourists are the minority; I'm seeing various religious groups (Muslims, Jews, Christians) and colors (black, white, arabs, asians) and cultures (European, Indian, Jewish, American).

We ate dinner at at lovely restaurant around the corner from our hotel (Flavors) where we had Thai food ... exactly what we often ordered when dining out in Monrovia last year.

I can hear the Muslim call to prayer right now, which makes me very aware that I am a foreigner here. It gives me a sense of adventure and humility at the same time.