In a funk.

I'm sitting on my bed (the lower bunk) in the Abraham Hostel as Anny packs up the last of her things. She's the last one to go - and then I'm here alone. I don't know what's the deal with me - I'm kind of in a funk about everyone leaving. I guess this has always been a weird thing with me - I get all emotional about getting left behind. On my mission it was always so much easier to be the companion leaving than the one staying. I don't really know why this is the case, but I suspect it has something to do with years of foster brothers and sisters coming and leaving.

So, I don't know if it's that, or looking into the next two weeks of all I have to do, and not really knowing how I'm going to do it - but something is bugging me. I'm just in a funk.

Yesterday, you probably noticed (I'll hear it from my mom tomorrow for sure!), I didn't write. I didn't feel like I had much to say, and plain didn't feel like it. I slept in a bit late (for me) and then lazed around and read a book I found in the Fauzi Azar collection of random books left by travelers (I found among the accumulation a collection of LDS hymns and some stuff by Madsen, interestingly), visited the Orthodox Basilica of the Annunciation, and then waited for Anny. We had to forego our trip to Haifa, since it was Friday and approaching Shabbat - no buses were running after 2.

And that was about it.

I've met some great people on my way. During our first days at the Abraham Hostel, I was convinced that this backpacker life the one for me. I loved talking to new people, the communal atmosphere, the adventurous feel to it all. And I still feel that way - but more from a distance now. I'm not sure what changed. I feel overwhelmed by all the people I don't know, and different from them, since I can't join them in a beer or something; and I guess I'm always a little plagued by my insecurities - I don't fit the bodily mold of a backpacker, I can't seem to keep up interesting conversation for more than a minute or two. In fact, I'm usually worried that the longer they talk to me, the greater risk I run of getting found out - for not being as cool or intelligent or something as the front I put on.  Now I'm rambling into my regular issues.

Anyway, I was feeling pretty melancholy this morning as I walked to church. But the two hours of church (only Sacrament and Relief Society, since all the BYU Jerusalem students are in Turkey) did my soul some real good. It felt good to be surrounded by my people, if that makes sense. And I truly felt my heart lightened by the Holy Spirit. I also took some time to just sit and reminisce about my time here 13 years ago. It changed my life, obviously, and I guess I wanted some reassurance that I had been following a real future, not just some nostalgic dream. I felt that reassurance.

I was supposed to meet Anny at Damascus Gate afterward, but waited for about 20 minutes and couldn't find her. So I went over to Jaffa Gate, thinking maybe she misunderstood, and then back to the hostel. No luck. After an hour and a half of waiting, even calling her on Google, I was just about to panic, when she knocked on the door. Somehow we missed one another, but luckily she got to see everything she wanted to see. I was glad for that.

And soon she'll be off (about a half hour now).

I want to end this post with a note about small miracles and answered prayers. You already know the story of the Nazareth driving disaster - and the people placed in our path to help us. Two days ago as we walked in the miserable heat of the day, I began to talk out loud to Heavenly Father, begging Him to send just a little breeze (it was as still as could be). He did, and I thanked Him, out loud again. I kept asking, and small breezes kept coming within seconds. It was very much appreciated. Then today, as I walked up to the BYU Jerusalem Center, I asked for peace in my heart, and it came. I am being truly blessed.

Now I just need some more help to make something positive happen with this research. I've already made some great contacts and will pursue those, but I think I'm going to make a small paper survey to hand out to people at some of the Christian holy sites. I've never done this sort of thing before, and it scares me a bit. But I think it will be the best approach to see how people from different Christian denominations approach and experience these holy sites - the traditions, the expectations, the feelings, etc. So, that's the plan. From here, the blog will likely be ponderings on this research. Please feel free to continue to read and enjoy. But there won't be as many pictures. (smiley face)

**** I must make an amendment to the earlier posting. Driven by hunger out to the streets around 7 (after Anny left), I wandered until I found a little pub/restaurant open. It took some searching. Jerusalem, in the Jewish section, is nigh unto a ghost-town on Shabbat. NOTHING was open, and the people on the streets were a) Orthodox Jews on their way to the synagogue; b) tourists like myself; c) what I can only assume are immigrant workers - some Philippinas and Africans (the Africans weren't Ethiopian Jews, I don't think - they weren't speaking Hebrew. But I could very well be wrong); d) homeless people.

But I knew I was close to hope when I heard a crowd around a corner, and sure enough, there was the pub. I ate some fish and chips while I read my book and people-watched, and then headed off to what I thought was the street I lived on. I got good and lost, but the city no longer resembled anything like a ghost-town. It was hopping! Shops had opened (it was fully dark now) and everyone was out for a night on the town! I was swarmed a couple of times with Birthright Tour kids (groups of Jewish post-high school age kids that come to connect with their homeland) looking for a good time, and twice passed the same street performer singing Greenday and CCR. I dropped a shekel in his case - he was pretty decent.

I decided it was time to ask someone for how to arrive at Jaffa Street, and popped in a little gelato place. Bad idea - or perhaps excellent idea, depending on your perspective. In any case, I said, "Shalom," and the girl said, "Hi." Rats - I can't escape my American-ness, can I? In English I said, "I'm that obvious, eh?" She replied that my "shalom" made her wonder, but I looked American. Well, at least my accent wasn't the issue. I got the most sinful, rich dark chocolate gelato with a scoop of some berry flavor, and directions to my street. All is well - and I'm ready to go out and conquer. For now, that means I'm going to bed. Assuming my roommate Jeff (the 74-year-old from Australia) doesn't decide to talk my ear off all night as he did last night. My other new roommate George, who apparently doesn't speak much English just came in. Oh boy - spending the night with two older men. Time to get the earplugs!

Just as I left the kid singing, "Don't go out tonight, It's bound to take your life; There's a bad moon on the rise," I looked up and saw the full moon. But for me, going out was just what I needed. Here's the view on the street tonight.