Because of my last two experiences at the checkpoint "The Container" (as it is fondly referred to in its English translation), I choose to go through Jerusalem on my last trip to Ramallah. I went with Khaled, one of the basketball players who works in Jerusalem at a hotel and is one of the few people who has a Jerusalem ID. Abu Yusef (which translates to the father of Yusef in English and refers to the fact that his first son is named Yusef) also went with us since he has a permission slip due to his work with USAid. Some of the other players poked a little fun at me because they said I needed to continue to suffer through the real checkpoints with them.

My first day here Ziad took me up to a spot where I could look down on the WALL and the road/tunnels built for Israeli's (and Palestinians with special permission) to drive from Jerusalem to the Bethlehem. I didn't expect that I would ever be on this road but as we passed through the checkpoint with a quick glance at the two Palestinians ID's and a flash of the blue outside cover of the American passport I found myself traveling beneath the WALL and into the tunnels.

Before we had been in a sea of yellow (Israeli) and green (Palestinian) license plates traveling on bumpy unkempt streets but now we emerged into a world of one color license plates and an expansive city that materialized all around us. The opulence of huge hotels, shopping malls, beautiful homes and smooth roadways a stark contrast to what is on the other side of the WALL. My eyes tried to take it all in, the wall surrounding the historic Old City with the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Asqa mosque peeking out and captured in my vision for a split second.

But soon enough we were through this little daydream in between Bethlehem and Ramallah. We emerged back into the insanity of the multi-colored license plates crammed together on a half crumbling rock/dirt and half paved road full of pot holes and speed bumps inching along into Ramallah.

On the way back from Ramallah the other day we stopped at a small restaurant crammed among the various buildings. In front of the restaurant are two huge rotisseries with greasy large slabs of some type of meat wrapped around the poles. A man with what resembled a carpenters circular ran this tool down the sides of the cooking meat, collecting slices in a small bowl to hand to the servers at the end of a sandwich line. This meat was the final ingredient in "schwerma (sp?)", a mixture of vegetables, sauces, meat and french-fries slopped together in a long piece of bread, wrapped in a napkin and handed to the waiting customers. After a bit of apprehension because of the rotisseries I bit into my sandwich...

Today we head back to Ramallah and I have chosen to go back with the team this time, not through Jerusalem though they were stopped at a checkpoint for over 2 hours when I was coming through Jerusalem. Tonight is round 3 of the basketball tournament.