In the interest of remaining connected, I went into the Old City yesterday sans camera and other ecoutrements of memory-preservation, carrying only my Bible and some money for the market. I went back to the Holy Sepulchre and stood by the tomb, watching the long line of pilgrims fighting there way to the door to get inside to get a glimpse of the possible place where Jesus rose from the dead. I read the ressurection story in Luke, then John, then stood there at a loss for the appropriate thing to do.
That night I went back to Luise's (of course) for a fish and rice dinner. We had a sort-of make-shift communion, in that we ate bread and drank wine and I silently remembered, and then sat on the terrace until the sun went down. Later on we went out in search of--of all things--creme brulee, and by God we found it, and it was gooood.
Today I was supposed to be on a bus to Eilat, from which I was supposed to head into Jordan to see the awe-inspiring ruins of Petra. However, unbeknownst to me, Israel went and shut down...well...everything, once again, for the holiday. Hence there are no buses until tonight. But at exactly midnight, Bernt and I will be on our way. And when we return, praise God, we will be able to buy bread again. (Aside: in Israel, during passover, it is illegal to sell bread, or pasta, or popcorn, or even rice. Illegal, mind you. So I have been sneaking it in from the Arab quarter. Shhhhhhh!)