Lots of questions, buses later, we're...late.

Checkpoint at entrance to King Hussein Bridge/Allenby Crossing (Jordan)

Entered Israel, en route to Jerusalem.

We made it in, but not without a few bumps along the way. Not counting our first attempt on Saturday, the time it has taken us to get from Jordan to Israel rivals the time it took to get from JFK to Amman. Over 6 hours after we left Jordan, we wearily made it to our family's home in Beit Sahour near Bethlehem.

More striking to us than the detailed, suspicious questioning at the Israeli entrance point, and the endless number of connecting buses, none of which seem to have a posted schedule, was the fact that when we finally arrived, there was little sympathy from the locals. It felt like instead of concern or empathy for what we went through to get here, there was a mix of feelings of (a) six hours, that's quick, you're lucky and (b) you're late. I had a feeling people felt surprised that we were surprised that the trip would be so arduous.

Our host family just got back into Palestine a few months ago, after visiting family in the US. They returned to learn that several of their neighbors had died while they were away. They also showed us (by pointing across the street) where Israeli settlers had come and gone. As we sat there over Turkish coffee, grapes, and pears, they told us these things.