[ Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 and part 5. The comment thread for all parts is available here. If you're wondering about the lack of photos in this final installment, the Israeli military took my last roll of film and never returned it; the images I've included below came from other sources. If you're curious you can read more accounts of the action at the Church of the Nativity here, here or here. ]
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I checked in to the hostel in Jerusalem, feeling a bit adrift and melancholy. Everyone I had been traveling with up to that point had either left or had drifted off to other areas, and there were few internationals in the hostel that early in the afternoon. I was just thinking about going out for lunch when I decided to give Huwaida Arraf of the ISM a quick call, to see if there were any actions planned in the next few days. She said there was an action planned, at the Church of the Nativity, but not in the next few days—they were set to head out to Bethlehem in two minutes. I blanched. It would be a 15-minute walk at least to where the buses were staging, and I really did need to take a day off; would it even be worth trying to make the walk? I told her I would try, but in fact I was still trying to make up my mind about it.
Then my conscience kicked in. This was exactly why I'd come to Palestine, and I'd been hoping to be involved in an action at the church ever since I'd arrived. The Israelis had put the church under siege in the first days of their invasion after some Palestinians sought refuge there, and they had maintained the siege over the protests of the international community and the Catholic Church. The people inside—including nuns, priests, and monks in addition to the Palestinians—were running out of food and water, and the situation for them was desperate. Israeli snipers had killed several people in and around the church, including the bell ringer. The people trapped in the church needed whatever help they could get. So I threw my things back into my bag and headed over to Jaffa gate, fully expecting that they would be gone by the time I got there. But they weren't—the buses were just filling up with a good-sized group of internationals. I had made it in time. I didn't realize it then, but at that moment my fate was sealed.
We headed over to Bethlehem and met up with more people near the Indymedia offices there. I was happy to see Jeff standing there—we had lost track of each other in Hebron, and it was good to be back together for this action. All told there were about 25 of us, and we began making plans for the action. We would split into three groups: a group who would be trying to get inside to act as human shields for the people there, a "media" group, and a group which would act as support for the entry group.
I was in this third group; our purpose would be to stand in front of the door, blocking the view of any Israeli snipers as the entry group made its way inside, so that the snipers would not be able to get a shot at anyone inside the church. All of us would be carrying food and water for the people inside.