A Bethlehem Wedding in Mourning

I read the NY Times article from my plane ride — Bethlehem was experiencing the best Christmas in 8 years. The hotels were booked, the tourists were back in full force. I had waited a year to come back to my beloved Palestine. I was full of excitement. My friend Fadi was getting married and I made a promise to him that I would be at his wedding, no matter what would happen. Even a blizzard in Chicago that grounded me for two days couldn’t stop me from getting to his wedding. I arrived late at night on the 26th of December (in Jordan) and crossed into the Israeli controlled border early morning of the 27th. By the time I got into a taxi across the Bethlehem checkpoint, the bombing of Gaza was playing across all of the Arab news channels. Our taxi driver put on Al Jazeerah news (from his cell phone) so we could watch the horror of dead bodies (in full maimed detail) — babies and children bloodied and limp.

Fadi, the groom, stood at the entrance of the Nativity Church (where Christ was born). He wore his black tux and brown tie, clutching two cell phones at both ears.  He saw me coming in and gave me a huge hug. “Sama, we can’t have this wedding. The situation in Gaza is very bad.”

But he and I knew that the wedding had to go on. The bride’s family had traveled from Canada (at a whopping $2500 per ticket) to see this day happen. There would be no second chances. The flowers were bought, the reception booked, the cake ready. This was the shit about living in Palestine. You could never prepare for what Israel might do. The people were always at the mercy of their occupiers.

We tried to console him, and tell him that even in the face of death, life and love should be celebrated and honored. But that is not the Palestinian way. The strike would start tonight. Shops and restaraunts would close, Christmas lights turned off, and people would stay home. They would diligently watch tv, cry and call loved ones. The would send text messages back and forth. They would pray. And they would wait.

The wedding took place and we went to the reception hall. Half the seats remained empty, many of Fadi’s relatives and friends simply could not bring themselves to come.  This first day of their life together forever marked by the nearly 300 lives snuffed out by Israel. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. Bethlehem, 2008.