I arose with the sun at 6 a.m. on our last day in the Holy Land. From my room at the Dan Pearl Hotel in Jerusalem, I heard the faint sound of bells chiming somewhere in the distance. In the bed next to mine, my roommate, Hay-Mie, was sound asleep. For the first time in several days, she did not have to get up early to give our classmates a wake-up knock: our last day in the Holy Land was a free day, and for once on the trip we could do whatever we wanted.

I had an entire day to myself to relax, hang out, and explore the ancient city. The prospect was so exciting that I lay awake, wondering what to do. Then I remembered - I had to report my feature story. Since she was already finished with her story, Hay-Mie decided to accompany me while I reported mine. We went to breakfast (a tasty yet cold breakfast due to the Sabbath) where we met up with Mike and Kirsten. After breakfast, Kirsten, Mike, Tarannum, Hay-Mie and I set out for the Old City. There, we split up to do our reporting.

Because I wanted to write a story about the Ethiopian monks that we had seen last week, Hay-Mie and I headed to the Ethiopian Orthodox Church and monastery, located on the roof of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Amid the dark, narrow, candle-lit church and the gray stone huts of the medieval-looking monastery, I interviewed a monk, a pilgrim, and a worshipper. The worshipper was an unbelievably nice man who not only told us about his church, but took us on a tour as well. He spent hours with Hay-Mie and me, taking us to the Ethiopian section of the city - home to the Ethiopian Consulate, to St. Mary's - a large Ethiopian Church, and to many Ethiopians living in Jerusalem. Afterwards, he took us to his home and served us a small meal of pita and raspberry tea, apologizing for not having his native bread, injera. His apartment, like the other Ethiopian buildings we saw, sat behind a delicate locked metal gate. Similar to the church near the monastery, it was decorated with chandeliers made out of wrought iron and glass, which hung from extremely high ceilings. His tour enabled us to learn about a branch of Christianity and a culture that we had previously known little about.

After a short rest at the hotel, Hay-Mie and I met with Professor Goldman, Valerie, Roshni, Kevin, Tarannum, and Kirsten to have tea in the home of Evelyn Musher, a friend of Professor Goldman's. Her house was located in the chichi neighborhood of Rehavia, close to the residence of Prime Minister Ariel Sharon. It was interesting to see how another group of people lived, and to get an idea of the range of communities in Jerusalem. Ms. Musher's spacious, airy home was white-walled with beautiful wooden panels. There, we discussed religion and politics.

Later I discovered how the rest of my classmates had spent their free day. Some had left Jerusalem to explore other cities. Maggie ventured to Taybeh, a Christian Palestinian village, with Sister Maria Stephanopoulos (sibling of George) of the Russian Orthodox Church to report. Perlita spent the day sunbathing on a beach Tel Aviv. Jamie took a mud bath in the Dead Sea with her family, and visited a replica of the Old City, where she learned yet more about the emperor Herod.

George and Nina went to Bethlehem with Father Miller from the Roman Catholic Pontifical Mission to do some reporting. When they finally made it into the city after having been turned away at one entrance point, they went to visit Diana Mubarak, Director of Social Affairs for the Palestinian Authorities. Ms. Mubarak explained how the Israeli police had shot at her house. During the interview, the widow of a German doctor who had been killed came into the office, and told how her house too, had been under heavy shelling. They later went to see shelled-out houses in the area, before driving back to Jerusalem. Later, they each met other classmates for a bite to eat.

Roshni had a busy day. First, she went to see a Franciscan monk to report her feature story. Then, she sat in a café in the Old City and wrote postcards. In the early afternoon, she went to Bethlehem with a group of Canadian tourists where she toured the Church of the Nativity. Afterwards, she took a taxi back to Jerusalem, went to tea with the group at Ms. Musher's house, went to mass at the Church of Notre Dame, and ended the trip swimming in the pool and soaking in the Jacuzzi at our hotel.

Vikram, who had spent the night in Ramallah in order to report his story, had a lot of excitement for one day. After being detained by Palestinian soldiers on the outskirts of the city, he contacted the deputy police chief, who released him and took him around Ramallah and the office of the P.L.O. Vikram then went to Kalambhia, on the outskirts of Ramallah, where the Artists Against Apartheid were demonstrating. There he photographed demonstrating Palestinian teenagers who were throwing rocks at Israeli soldiers, while running and dodging the rocks himself. He later took refuge with members of professional press organizations, whom he befriended. Finally, he talked to the family of a Palestinian martyr, a former 24-year-old carpenter named Ahmed Karem.

But Vikram was not the only one taking pictures. Meanwhile, back in Jerusalem where the rest of the class had remained, Rob and Charlie were shooting pictures of an old junkyard against the backdrop of the Al-Aqsa Mosque from the ancient City of David, currently an old Arab shantytown. Before that, they walked to Sultan's Pool, in the artist's compound, and then down the Valley of the Shadow of Death. They made a couple of attempts to get into the Temple Mount, but were unsuccessful since, as a result of the second intifada, only Muslims are allowed on the site. Later, they met up with Mike, who had spent the morning interviewing a Yeshiva student at the Western Wall. The three went to Me'a She'arim, the Orthodox Jewish neighborhood and home to the Hasidic Jews, where children stared at them and they felt "very conspicuous."

Also in Jerusalem, Tarannum strolled through the Old City, where she walked through the Armenian quarter, consumed manaish (a delicious pastry) and large quantities of Turkish coffee, and did not work. (she had reported her story several days before) Kirsten walked around the Armenian quarter, went to an Internet café, returned to the hotel for a little while, met Valerie, Tarannum, and Mike for a coffee, and then left the tea early to report her story about the owner of a spice shop.

Kevin, our Webmaster, spent a much-deserved morning sleeping in. Then he walked leisurely around the Old City, where he bought out one gift shop's supply of stuffed camels which sing, “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” when squeezed, for his nephews. Later, Kevin joined the rest of the gang for tea. Valerie also slept in a bit before wandering into the Old City. She did no reporting, and had one really great experience: she attended a Coptic mass in a cave in the back of the Holy Sepulchre, where she was the only non-robed person in the incense-filled room. "I felt like I was transported to the 11th century," she said.

At dusk, Hay-Mie and I took one last walk through the city of stone, hoping to catch the sunset over the Dome of the Rock. We missed it, but found solace in shopping for gifts and souvenirs in the Muslim quarter of the Old City. Then we returned to the hotel, checked out, and boarded the bus for our trip to the airport in Tel Aviv.

On the hour and a half drive, Ron, our much appreciated, knowledgeable tour guide, made jokes about Israel and sang his "boker" song (meaning morning in Hebrew) to us for the last time. I doubt that I was the only one who became sentimental.

We had experienced the country as journalists, as students, as tourists, and, some, as pilgrims. Those of us who had never been to the Middle East before had taken in new sights, sounds, tastes, and cultures. The trip reinforced our study of religion and history, and allowed us to see first hand that media coverage of religion is sometimes distorted. I think that we all gained new perspectives about Israel and the ability to write about religion and its accompanying politics with deeper understanding and sensitivity.

We drove to the airport and boarded the plane for New York, enriched by new friendships, wisdom, and experiences - many of us vowing to someday return to the Holy Land.