The final battle of Armageddon is yet to come, but traveling through the Valley of Armageddon, there was an apocalyptic sentiment within our class. This would be our last day traveling as a group in Israel and we found ourselves in a melancholy mood.

Having left the Ghetto Fighters Kibbutz early in the morning, we were on our way back to Jerusalem. Our trip was coming to an end and much more than being afraid of the apocalypse, we dreaded the idea of going back to school and working on our master's projects again. Professor Goldman, of course, didn't share these earthly students' fears and together with our Israeli guide Ron Perry enthusiastically pointed out the beauty and biblical significance of the landscape ahead of us.

Driving south along Jordan River, our bus passed camel caravans and shepherd boys driving their flocks of sheep and goats down the barren hills to the grassy lawns of the Jordan valley. Yellow-flowered Mimosa trees lined the curved roads, now and then revealing lemon and orange orchards behind them, the trees bending under the heavy weight of the fruit. At the roadside, among a melange of deep-red poppy, white camomile and pinkish mallow flowers we spotted an Arab peasant selling the lush country's harvest: strawberries, citrus, dates and many different vegetables. The scene bore amazing resemblance to the familiar descriptions of the Old Testament. It wouldn't have been much of a surprise if in the next moment our bus driver had honked to overtake the caravan of the three wise men on their way to welcome the Messiah in Bethlehem.

Heading towards Jericho, however, we were abruptly torn out of our spiritual daze and confronted with the current problem of the Holy Land: the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. Crossing a roadblock we left the state of Israel and entered the West Bank, which has been under the Palestinian Authority since 1994.

Due to the Second Intifada, the Palestinian uprising which started six months ago and has cost the lives of more than 400 Palestinians and Israelis so far, our class didn't get the chance to visit Jericho. Ron tried to convince us that, "The chance of coming out of there alive is very small, so we are not going to visit this city." Whether he was exaggerating or not, our group didn't take the risk. Instead we took the long way round the Jericho oasis, passing by barb-wired Jewish settlements and Arab villages, the Palestininan flag defiantly waving in the hot desert winds. And as if the heavily armed Israeli soldiers all along the road weren't symbolic enough, Ron reminded us again, "There's a war going on here. This is not a children's game."

After a three-hour drive we finally reached Jerusalem. Professor Goldman told us that within little more than a week, "We made a big circle around the whole country." But even though we had seen a lot of different places and talked to so many people, Christian and Muslim Arabs, Orthodox Jews and Druze, Zionists and peace negotiators, many of us felt more confused than ever before, trying to grasp the essence of Israel.

Having the afternoon to ourselves, we all spread out in Jerusalem one more time, some hunting for bargains in the Arab market, others trying kosher Mexican food or having yet another pita with hommos and falafel. Rob discovered a new way to explore the city. He climbed from roof-top to roof-top, enjoying the impressive view of Jerusalem's famous landmarks, the Dome of the Rock, Al Aksa Mosque and the Western Wall. Michael and I spent the afternoon wandering through the souk of the Old City. We ended up having Turkish coffee at a Palestinian-owned café close to Damascus gate and found ourselves the only patrons, being watched by four Israeli soldiers with huge machine-guns.

After this most bizarre cup of coffee, the sun set and it was once again time to welcome the Shabbat in Jerusalem. When Professor Goldman, Rabbi Paley and some of the students returned from Kol Haneshama, the only reform synagogue in Israel, we gathered for dinner at the Dan Pearl Hotel. After the initial blessing over the wine and bread, we were served the traditional gefilte fish. It was funny to watch the expression on some of the non-Jewish students' faces as they tried this Eastern European meal for the first - and definitely the last - time.

In keeping with tradition, Professor Goldman had invited several guests to join us for Shabbat dinner. We were all really excited when among them we spotted Deborah Sontag, the Jerusalem bureau chief for the New York Times. Talking about her life and work as a journalist in Israel for the last two and a half years, Sontag said that the intensity of this place had burned her out and she was ready to go back home to New York this summer. The course of our discussion followed the typical theme of our class trip: we started with religion but soon ended up talking politics.

As Sontag warned us not to go to the territories, "It is an unneccessary risk, the streets are too dangerous," we were all worried, thinking of Nina, Kevin, George and Vikram, who had left us earlier in the day to visit Ramallah, a Palestinian town in the West Bank. They interviewed members of LAW, the Palestinian Society for the Protection of Human Rights and the Environment, and talked to Jihad Mash'al, a doctor with the Medical Relief Committees. "They complained about human rights violations and torture by the Israeli army," Nina said, when they got back. Vikram, looking for the real experience, was the only one to spend the night in Ramallah.

The rest of us decided to finish another intense day with a couple of drinks at one of the few bars open on Shabbat. At an Irish pub on Jaffa Street we were even served real Guiness beer. The hard core of our group, all the part-time students and Nina, took over the bar, dancing and drinking until 5 am the next morning. Kevin even convinced the bar keeper to let him play the music. After a week of non-stop religion the students weren't going to let the Sabbath stand between them and a party.