I woke up this morning at 6:30, thought better of it... woke up again at 7.  Michelle's bathroom is three shades of obnoxious pink.  I took a quick shower, accidentally used face wash for shampoo.  Maybe I was tired, or I'm always a little on edge staying in a stranger's home, or maybe it was the fault of the pink bathroom itself.  I couldn't wait to get to Nazareth and settle in.  

Three short walks with rolling suitcase in tow, one Palestinian bus ride, one taxi ride to the central bus station, one grumpy interaction over my lack of exact change to pay the taxi driver (somehow, having the right change for things seems to be a constant struggle for me here), and two traffic jams later, I was finally in front of the Jerusalem central bus station.  

Through the metal detectors, then to scan my bags, before I could even get in the station.  Then a ticket to Afula please, another 39 shekels--I would eventually need to catch a different bus from Afula to Nazareth, then get a taxi once I was in Nazareth.  A long day. 

The station was crawling with soldiers headed for different parts of the country.  Attractive people in attractive uniforms, people my age and younger.  Confident and capable-looking--they must be the pride of the Jewish state.  

All of that security equipment and armed people around and you would think I'd feel safer.  But it still makes me feel a little weird to sit next to someone listening to their ipod with his gun slung casually across his lap, the person across from me resting his hand on the trigger of his gun while chatting on his cell phone.  

I shared my bus with at least twenty guns and their people.  This is such a typical scenario--the intrusion of weapons into everyday situations--that I feel ridiculously touristy to even taken note of it.  Anyone who has lived here any amount of time would probably consider it unworthy of comment. 

Already, it's easy to get used to things that would seem absolute madness in the middle of Kansas... Last night I went to a movie with Michelle.  On the way I realized I hadn't brought my passport.  "Oh shoot," I said, feeling awfully dumb, "Do we have to go through any checkpoints on the way there?" Turns out we didn't.  There was a pause in conversation.  "Isn't it crazy to have to think about something like that?" Michelle said.  "...What kind of place is this?"  

I think my visceral reactions have some value here.  All of these security measures and weapons accompanying us along to the grocery story, to the tourist attractions, to breakfast... My innocent outsider's shock says, this is not the way it has to be! This is certainly not the only way to live, and I think I could make a pretty good case for why it's less than desirable.  

I set up this blog in December, but I haven't been able to bring myself to write.  Partly that is because I so far haven't had reliable internet access... but mostly it is because the more I learn about this place, the less I feel able to say about it, the less authority and place I feel I have to even comment on it.  

But what I feel I do have to offer is my observations and honest reactions to things, especially my first impressions about them.  As I feel completely unqualified, I will try to leave political commentary to a minimum (although I have a feeling this might end up having just *a bit* of a political bent) and simply tell a little bit of what I see every day, especially those things that make me ask myself, "Oh #$%&, What kind of place IS this?"