Hey everyone...We're home (and it's been about 39 hours now), and we're still very tired, a little lagged, and we're fighting a little bit of physical illness. On the positive side, we're taking care of unpacking, getting the house up and running again, the car battery switched out (mine went to the great battery heaven in the sky while we were gone), and the best part...seeing the kiddos again. We're both so desperate to spend time with them at this point that it's hard to see them even leave the car to go to school. It's a kind of wish to re-absorb them, their sweetness and personalities, as much as possible. Our sleeping schedule is still weird, but many people have said that it's easier to come back this way than go the other way (making jet-lag worse leaving the U.S.) I hope they're right.
Mark wants to put up some more pictures, and that should happen before week's end. Please check back with us. We also have many post-trip thoughts and reflections, so we will be writing them during the next week.
Love you all,
V
Monday, August 13, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
Clutching hope and a future in your hand and your heart
We awoke early today, as we were to go to see how native crafts are done...colorful designs in embroidery done with the hands of the women in the families here...They learn the designs from their mothers and grandmothers, and since most families are extended within in the households here, little girls learn sometimes at their great-grandmother's knee. The designs are sometimes ancient, but they also sometimes carry modern themes of an independent state, the poverty and sadness over families being physically ripped apart by the wall, and often the dream of peace, with doves, olive trees, and the word 'Peace' stitched into the intricate designs.
The people here are so giving, and when we asked to purchase some of the artwork, they were more than willing to also give gifts...I feel so humbled when they do that...they give anything they can...everything they have...and in all the cases, they have so little that it makes you cry that they want you to have it. We insisted on paying whatever they asked, as we want to help them feed their children. You may say to yourself, "That sounds a little dramatic." I assure you, it is not. The families here live day-to-day, finding food wherever and whenever they can. There is no such thing as 'enough' here. Your children, my children, they go to bed each night with full tummies and no worry in the night.
The children I've met, I've seen...their innocence, which is the responsibility of all adults, even you and I, is deeply endangered. They sleep, but it's not the sleep our children sleep each night. These children awaken to little food and no healthcare, working from the very earliest ages for food...five, six years old...imagine your small child walking the streets for food, working 12 hours in a day for $7.00 U.S or less...It's real, and I've seen it. You see the massive poverty that the people here live with, and they work with embroidery and olive wood to try to live...Yes, there is poverty in America, but there are resources to help the children who are its victims.
Yes, I worry about money; We worry about making sure our children are safe and their tummies are full...and that they have clothes to wear and school...The people here desperately rely on the religious organizations and churches (Salesians, Franciscans, Orthodoxes, and many more) to educate their children, and God is the constant presence in their lives. The trust and love they feel for each other and their community...I have seen them all loved and treated well by their fellow neighbors in Bethlehem and the surrounding villages. It's not a show put on for the tourists. I've been to their homes and seen how they live, and I've seen openess and a sense of being responsible for each other that is really rather rare in other places. I've cried more in the past month than the past year, as I am still thinking about all the reasons I was brought here...what I am to learn and what I am to share with those whom I influence.
I carry all of these people with me now, and although my heart is heavier, it is richer and now connected to the hope of those I've seen, those whose reality I have been witness to here. You cannot express an accurate or truly valued opinion about any part of the world until you've been there, lived as they live, and opened yourself to something larger than yourself and how you live your daily life. I am more grateful (I never took anything for granted, but now I am profoundly grateful.) for all that I have in opportunities and our lives, but I also feel such a sense of responsibility to those who need our help so much...and it's responsibility out of love and respect, not pity.
We also visited the workshop of one of the olive-wood carvers here in Bethlehem. The workshop is just next to his home, and everywhere you go they will offer hot tea with mint, turkish coffee, and food, even if they can't spare it. The homes of the artists today were no exception. When the gentleman showed us the process for carving the wood, where he keeps the wood before carving (in a cave beneath his house), and then talked with us about how difficult it is to feed his wife and five children, I wanted to do something to help he and his family so much. They need help, and they need it quickly.
One little boy, his youngest, followed me around while we were there. He was fascinated by my camera, and he would shyly smile at me whenever I looked at him. His little world is that house and workshop. His brothers all work in the machine shop and his sisters and mother put together the little nativity grottos in the house. They were working on an order from the Fransiscan monastary here, which comes once in a year or two (whenever the church can afford to purchase anything...limited funds even for them). I asked her how many she might make in a day and her answer was 200...everyone in the house was working on some aspect of the family business...the family hope...all except the smallest child. He was about four.
Most families here seem to live on only three or four dollars a day. This little boy still had that wonderful, charming look that we see in young childrens' eyes...the one that has not been touched by the internet or television, fear and violence. There are many children here who have lost that look of innocence, and instead they have a look of sadness and uncertainty. All I could give to this man's child today was a few minutes of looking at the pictures of his father's world that lay revealed on my camera screen and then, a tiny piece of cherry candy...such a tiny thing to give, but instead of popping it directly into his mouth, as I expect most children would do, he clutched it tightly in his tiny hand...with an olive that he had pulled from one of the trees as we were leaving his home. I couldn't imagine a more apt metaphor for the future of this little boy's country...the strength of the olive tree and looking forward to something good in the future.
V
The people here are so giving, and when we asked to purchase some of the artwork, they were more than willing to also give gifts...I feel so humbled when they do that...they give anything they can...everything they have...and in all the cases, they have so little that it makes you cry that they want you to have it. We insisted on paying whatever they asked, as we want to help them feed their children. You may say to yourself, "That sounds a little dramatic." I assure you, it is not. The families here live day-to-day, finding food wherever and whenever they can. There is no such thing as 'enough' here. Your children, my children, they go to bed each night with full tummies and no worry in the night.
The children I've met, I've seen...their innocence, which is the responsibility of all adults, even you and I, is deeply endangered. They sleep, but it's not the sleep our children sleep each night. These children awaken to little food and no healthcare, working from the very earliest ages for food...five, six years old...imagine your small child walking the streets for food, working 12 hours in a day for $7.00 U.S or less...It's real, and I've seen it. You see the massive poverty that the people here live with, and they work with embroidery and olive wood to try to live...Yes, there is poverty in America, but there are resources to help the children who are its victims.
Yes, I worry about money; We worry about making sure our children are safe and their tummies are full...and that they have clothes to wear and school...The people here desperately rely on the religious organizations and churches (Salesians, Franciscans, Orthodoxes, and many more) to educate their children, and God is the constant presence in their lives. The trust and love they feel for each other and their community...I have seen them all loved and treated well by their fellow neighbors in Bethlehem and the surrounding villages. It's not a show put on for the tourists. I've been to their homes and seen how they live, and I've seen openess and a sense of being responsible for each other that is really rather rare in other places. I've cried more in the past month than the past year, as I am still thinking about all the reasons I was brought here...what I am to learn and what I am to share with those whom I influence.
I carry all of these people with me now, and although my heart is heavier, it is richer and now connected to the hope of those I've seen, those whose reality I have been witness to here. You cannot express an accurate or truly valued opinion about any part of the world until you've been there, lived as they live, and opened yourself to something larger than yourself and how you live your daily life. I am more grateful (I never took anything for granted, but now I am profoundly grateful.) for all that I have in opportunities and our lives, but I also feel such a sense of responsibility to those who need our help so much...and it's responsibility out of love and respect, not pity.
We also visited the workshop of one of the olive-wood carvers here in Bethlehem. The workshop is just next to his home, and everywhere you go they will offer hot tea with mint, turkish coffee, and food, even if they can't spare it. The homes of the artists today were no exception. When the gentleman showed us the process for carving the wood, where he keeps the wood before carving (in a cave beneath his house), and then talked with us about how difficult it is to feed his wife and five children, I wanted to do something to help he and his family so much. They need help, and they need it quickly.
One little boy, his youngest, followed me around while we were there. He was fascinated by my camera, and he would shyly smile at me whenever I looked at him. His little world is that house and workshop. His brothers all work in the machine shop and his sisters and mother put together the little nativity grottos in the house. They were working on an order from the Fransiscan monastary here, which comes once in a year or two (whenever the church can afford to purchase anything...limited funds even for them). I asked her how many she might make in a day and her answer was 200...everyone in the house was working on some aspect of the family business...the family hope...all except the smallest child. He was about four.
Most families here seem to live on only three or four dollars a day. This little boy still had that wonderful, charming look that we see in young childrens' eyes...the one that has not been touched by the internet or television, fear and violence. There are many children here who have lost that look of innocence, and instead they have a look of sadness and uncertainty. All I could give to this man's child today was a few minutes of looking at the pictures of his father's world that lay revealed on my camera screen and then, a tiny piece of cherry candy...such a tiny thing to give, but instead of popping it directly into his mouth, as I expect most children would do, he clutched it tightly in his tiny hand...with an olive that he had pulled from one of the trees as we were leaving his home. I couldn't imagine a more apt metaphor for the future of this little boy's country...the strength of the olive tree and looking forward to something good in the future.
V
Thursday, August 9, 2007
It's less than two days now until we head for home!
Hi Everyone! Mark is in the midst of teaching the Photoshop students at B.U. right now, and tomorrow is the last class here. We will begin packing tonight, and I have to do a load of wash before that happens. We don't have a dryer, so we hang everything. Once that's all dry tonight, I will pack that as well. We will wake early to go to watch olive-wood carvings and native embroidery being produced by local artisans. We will film them and photograph their work and post it here soon. Once class is over tomorrow at 6:30, we will head back to the house, finish packing, eat dinner, and then say goodbye to the family that has been so good to us here. We will take a taxi from here to the airport at 1:00 am our time (about 4 or 5 pm your time); it takes an hour to get to the airport from Jerusalem, and we will watch the sun go down during that drive. Once at the airport, we've been told that there is a rigorous security check, right down to touching the inside of all of my cosmetics and testing the mascara and lipstick...bleh...people touching that stuff...yuck...Once all the violation is over, we will board our plane around 5:30 am and then take off at 6:00 am for Prague. We'd stay in Prague a couple of days, except that I have to go to work this week (Yup, I'm the wet blanket on this travel party...sorry everybody!) From Prague we will head to Atlanta, and then to Austin from there. We should walk on Austin soil at around 8:00 pm on Saturday night. None too soon, really. We miss home.
We love all of you and we cannot WAIT to see you!
V : )
We love all of you and we cannot WAIT to see you!
V : )
Sunday, August 5, 2007
What? Mark writes again?
Station 9 
We went to Jerusalem yesterday for a nice day trip. Its always a lot easier when you've been there before and know the lay of the land. Last time we took a special taxi to the check point (20 shekels - +/- $5) and a bus at the checkpoint for 7 shekies to the Damascus gate then another 25 NIS to the hotel. To get back, we paid 150 NIS ( new Israeli shekel) for a special taxi all the way from the gate, through the checkpoint, to our door for a total of 200 shekies ($50)
Yesterday we took a service taxi (shared, like in Korea) to the checkpoint where we watched a couple of guys being hassled and shoved with a rifle back out a door after already having passed though two security stations. They later got on the bus with us, so I guess it got worked out. The service taxi (pronounced "serrveese" with a rolled r) was just 3 shekies apiece and then the same 3 1/2 apiece to the old city where we got off at the western Jaffa gate instead of the northern Damascus gate. Leaving earlier in the evening, and having paid attention to the bus number and route, we caught the #124 bus back to the checkpoint, but without a service taxi around on the dead-end street willing to go to Beit Sahour, we haggled (knowing how much it should be) with a special taxi to get to our door for 15 NIS. Total 35 NIS instead of 200. Made for an overall happier Mark.
The bus back to the checkpoint was pulled over by the Israeli Armed forces - they had two different uniforms and we weren't sure of the difference because their patches were in Hebrew. I had slightly annoyed the bus driver earlier because when he said yes to Victoria about going to Bethlehem, he was full and only had one seat and then I got on behind her - so we were sitting crammed up front. When we stopped for the machine-gun toting soldiers, V and I got off the bus so the commandos could board . I think it was pretty clear that we were gringos as we greeted them intentionally with a rather dorkie "hello". Since we were standing outside I couldn't see clearly, but they appeared to ask randomly or "suspicious" persons for documentation, going to the back of the bus and then again to the front, grunting at us to get back on the bus when they disembarked. I felt like the Jerusalem riders were rather used to the process because they didn't seem to get as nervous or respond with relief as the people had when we were stopped in Ramallah.
The day in Jerusalem was quite nice and I was more pleased because Victoria was very happy. Entering the Jaffa gate near David's Tower, we made a beeline (I can now find my way through the maze of narrow streets) through the countless shops of the market toward the Dome of the Rock since we had been unable to get into the actual shrine last time. Unfortunately, they had already closed the grounds of Harem esh-Sharif (Temple Mount to the Jews) for non-muslims and when we got home it was suggested that since it was Saturday and the Shabbat, they were closed as a security precaution against "crazy visitors" who might try something, as an Aussie did in the 60's..
Though I question whether it was that or for whatever reason, I do find it interesting that the Israeli's provide armed guards at all entry points to the dome, seemingly to support the notion. We found that out on our first trip when we were curtly redirected to the single gate where non-muslims can enter. Signs posted at the entry say that some chief rabbi has determined that the site is just too holy and has therefore forbidden any Jews from entering the Mount. I think he probably just said that in order to prevent further conflict, but what do I know? Confusing, eh?
Israelites must feel the same way about "crazy visitors" since in order to get to the Western "Wailing Wall", everyone goes through metal detectors and security checks. I also noticed that several jewish tour groups in the city had plain clothed young men who apparently felt the need to be carrying an automatic weapon. While the ones I saw weren't carrying it "at the ready", I certainly felt uncomfortable when the muzzle of the firearm crossed my path.
We were disappointed by not seeing the inside of the Dome where the Well of Souls resides beneath the rock where Abraham was going to sacrifice his kid, and which also bears an archangel's hand print (We think it was Gabriel, but maybe Michael) from when he prevented the rock from following Mohammed and his mystical steed as the
y rose to view Paradise. Actually, though you can not photograph it, the inside of the Dome is supposedly even more beautifully ornate than the outside. Both of us were dressed appropriately so as not to be rejected again and Victoria even had a proper muslim head cover Aria (Mom) had provided.
As we had a plan for the day, we left the Wall now called Western (but it will always be Wailing to me) - and seemingly ironic, the location of the foreigner's gate to the Dome- and headed out the southern most gate of the city - the Dung Gate. Yes, Dung. Supposedly an aptly named gate since, being on the lowest part of the city and its dividing valley, this is where all of the crap draining from the ancient city collected.
We made our way outside the wall east to the Vale of Jehoshaphat (I like that name better
than whatever the other one is) where we could see archaeological remains of the City of David and a view of Mount Zion. Climbing north as we made our way to the Mount of Olives, we passed a large, barren, and rather decrepit looking cemetery where tombs upon white-washed tombs are jumbled together in an ancient necropolis. From here we could see the Golden Gate on the eastern wall where Jesus entered the city on a donkey and where, according to legend, the Messiah will re-enter the city upon the day of the Rapture. It has been walled up by an old Muslim ruler to prevent the prophecy from coming true and thus ending his reign. 
We quietly sat and caught our breath after the hot climb among the olive trees in the tranquil and shaded Garden of Gethsemane. This is where Christ plead for a reprieve and Judas did as he was required for Jesus to fulfill his earthly mission. I've always felt that Judas got a bad rap, and the recently discovered Gospel of Judas I read before coming here supports the notion of Judas as a devout follower and trusted friend of Jesus who had a special place because of the distasteful task he had to preform. It was the other disciples who cowardly fled and denied that they even knew Jesus who besmirched Judas' name in their own defense.
The church at the Garden of Gethsemane
is really quite new having been built in the very early 1900's, replacing an older church which has some remains still visible on the other side opposite the garden. However, having been to literally hundreds of churches in all corners of the world, I found this one to be easily one of the most beautiful on the inside. Really quite simple actually, with purple and red stained glass on all sides, I've rarely responded to sacred architecture as I did here.
Following Jesus' path after his arrest, we entered the Lion's Gate (or St. Stephen's Gate to some) and came to the first station of the cross on the Via Delorosa, the path that Jesus followed after PP washed his hands and sent El Christo Grande to Calvary.
There are 14 stations. The first, where Pilate condemned him is actually behind the wall of an Islamic boys school or something, but we went into the second - a church now stands where he was beaten and given the cross to bear to his place of crucifixion. The various other events of that trek like where he fell( station 3), met his mom, had his faced wiped, was helped by Simon and such, are marked along the way. Some are a little difficult to find, like the ninth, but we found them all, culminating at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre were the last 5 are located - nailed, strung up, lowered, washed, and interred at the place for which the church is named. We documented the path in photos.
We then headed for our favorite restaurant from our last visit where we tried something new. Victoria had a stuffed fried chicken thing and I had the grilled lamb and once again we were both happy with our choices, but I still think the fish I had the first time was the best. The beer was equally refreshing and delicious as it was the first time I was there - in fact, I had two. Macabbees was good enough, but the Palestinian Taybeh pilsner is very good. The Taybeh Dark however, which I've tried previously, is something to be avoided. Not worth even trying, really - just trust me on that.
We tootled around among the shops, bought a couple of things here and there, and decided we were ready to head back to Bethlehem and Beit Sahour. I've described the return trip above and we got home about 6:30. We were tired and ended up napping for a couple of hours, woke for a bit, and then we slept very well behind the wall.
Yesterday we took a service taxi (shared, like in Korea) to the checkpoint where we watched a couple of guys being hassled and shoved with a rifle back out a door after already having passed though two security stations. They later got on the bus with us, so I guess it got worked out. The service taxi (pronounced "serrveese" with a rolled r) was just 3 shekies apiece and then the same 3 1/2 apiece to the old city where we got off at the western Jaffa gate instead of the northern Damascus gate. Leaving earlier in the evening, and having paid attention to the bus number and route, we caught the #124 bus back to the checkpoint, but without a service taxi around on the dead-end street willing to go to Beit Sahour, we haggled (knowing how much it should be) with a special taxi to get to our door for 15 NIS. Total 35 NIS instead of 200. Made for an overall happier Mark.
The bus back to the checkpoint was pulled over by the Israeli Armed forces - they had two different uniforms and we weren't sure of the difference because their patches were in Hebrew. I had slightly annoyed the bus driver earlier because when he said yes to Victoria about going to Bethlehem, he was full and only had one seat and then I got on behind her - so we were sitting crammed up front. When we stopped for the machine-gun toting soldiers, V and I got off the bus so the commandos could board . I think it was pretty clear that we were gringos as we greeted them intentionally with a rather dorkie "hello". Since we were standing outside I couldn't see clearly, but they appeared to ask randomly or "suspicious" persons for documentation, going to the back of the bus and then again to the front, grunting at us to get back on the bus when they disembarked. I felt like the Jerusalem riders were rather used to the process because they didn't seem to get as nervous or respond with relief as the people had when we were stopped in Ramallah.The day in Jerusalem was quite nice and I was more pleased because Victoria was very happy. Entering the Jaffa gate near David's Tower, we made a beeline (I can now find my way through the maze of narrow streets) through the countless shops of the market toward the Dome of the Rock since we had been unable to get into the actual shrine last time. Unfortunately, they had already closed the grounds of Harem esh-Sharif (Temple Mount to the Jews) for non-muslims and when we got home it was suggested that since it was Saturday and the Shabbat, they were closed as a security precaution against "crazy visitors" who might try something, as an Aussie did in the 60's..
Though I question whether it was that or for whatever reason, I do find it interesting that the Israeli's provide armed guards at all entry points to the dome, seemingly to support the notion. We found that out on our first trip when we were curtly redirected to the single gate where non-muslims can enter. Signs posted at the entry say that some chief rabbi has determined that the site is just too holy and has therefore forbidden any Jews from entering the Mount. I think he probably just said that in order to prevent further conflict, but what do I know? Confusing, eh?Israelites must feel the same way about "crazy visitors" since in order to get to the Western "Wailing Wall", everyone goes through metal detectors and security checks. I also noticed that several jewish tour groups in the city had plain clothed young men who apparently felt the need to be carrying an automatic weapon. While the ones I saw weren't carrying it "at the ready", I certainly felt uncomfortable when the muzzle of the firearm crossed my path.
We were disappointed by not seeing the inside of the Dome where the Well of Souls resides beneath the rock where Abraham was going to sacrifice his kid, and which also bears an archangel's hand print (We think it was Gabriel, but maybe Michael) from when he prevented the rock from following Mohammed and his mystical steed as the
y rose to view Paradise. Actually, though you can not photograph it, the inside of the Dome is supposedly even more beautifully ornate than the outside. Both of us were dressed appropriately so as not to be rejected again and Victoria even had a proper muslim head cover Aria (Mom) had provided.As we had a plan for the day, we left the Wall now called Western (but it will always be Wailing to me) - and seemingly ironic, the location of the foreigner's gate to the Dome- and headed out the southern most gate of the city - the Dung Gate. Yes, Dung. Supposedly an aptly named gate since, being on the lowest part of the city and its dividing valley, this is where all of the crap draining from the ancient city collected.
We made our way outside the wall east to the Vale of Jehoshaphat (I like that name better
than whatever the other one is) where we could see archaeological remains of the City of David and a view of Mount Zion. Climbing north as we made our way to the Mount of Olives, we passed a large, barren, and rather decrepit looking cemetery where tombs upon white-washed tombs are jumbled together in an ancient necropolis. From here we could see the Golden Gate on the eastern wall where Jesus entered the city on a donkey and where, according to legend, the Messiah will re-enter the city upon the day of the Rapture. It has been walled up by an old Muslim ruler to prevent the prophecy from coming true and thus ending his reign. 
We quietly sat and caught our breath after the hot climb among the olive trees in the tranquil and shaded Garden of Gethsemane. This is where Christ plead for a reprieve and Judas did as he was required for Jesus to fulfill his earthly mission. I've always felt that Judas got a bad rap, and the recently discovered Gospel of Judas I read before coming here supports the notion of Judas as a devout follower and trusted friend of Jesus who had a special place because of the distasteful task he had to preform. It was the other disciples who cowardly fled and denied that they even knew Jesus who besmirched Judas' name in their own defense.
The church at the Garden of Gethsemane
is really quite new having been built in the very early 1900's, replacing an older church which has some remains still visible on the other side opposite the garden. However, having been to literally hundreds of churches in all corners of the world, I found this one to be easily one of the most beautiful on the inside. Really quite simple actually, with purple and red stained glass on all sides, I've rarely responded to sacred architecture as I did here.Following Jesus' path after his arrest, we entered the Lion's Gate (or St. Stephen's Gate to some) and came to the first station of the cross on the Via Delorosa, the path that Jesus followed after PP washed his hands and sent El Christo Grande to Calvary.
There are 14 stations. The first, where Pilate condemned him is actually behind the wall of an Islamic boys school or something, but we went into the second - a church now stands where he was beaten and given the cross to bear to his place of crucifixion. The various other events of that trek like where he fell( station 3), met his mom, had his faced wiped, was helped by Simon and such, are marked along the way. Some are a little difficult to find, like the ninth, but we found them all, culminating at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre were the last 5 are located - nailed, strung up, lowered, washed, and interred at the place for which the church is named. We documented the path in photos.We then headed for our favorite restaurant from our last visit where we tried something new. Victoria had a stuffed fried chicken thing and I had the grilled lamb and once again we were both happy with our choices, but I still think the fish I had the first time was the best. The beer was equally refreshing and delicious as it was the first time I was there - in fact, I had two. Macabbees was good enough, but the Palestinian Taybeh pilsner is very good. The Taybeh Dark however, which I've tried previously, is something to be avoided. Not worth even trying, really - just trust me on that.
We tootled around among the shops, bought a couple of things here and there, and decided we were ready to head back to Bethlehem and Beit Sahour. I've described the return trip above and we got home about 6:30. We were tired and ended up napping for a couple of hours, woke for a bit, and then we slept very well behind the wall.Thursday, August 2, 2007
Some of the foods we've had while we've been here...
There is a great link to an arabic food site that explains some of the dishes we've had...just for interest's sake, I've provided the link here. We've had about 40 things off of this list!
http://www.arab.net/cuisine/
Have fun reading about all the yummy food!
V : )
http://www.arab.net/cuisine/
Have fun reading about all the yummy food!
V : )
Some of my favorites from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre...V
The alter and cross at Calvary
The Sepulchre
The surrounding architecture of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre
Side chapels and passageway in the church
Alter at one of the interior chapelsPhotos from Jerusalem...more V likes...Mark posted some more, too...keep scrolling...
A beautiful zattar (dipping spices) sculpture in the marketplace. This spice is used with bread and oil for dipping prior to and during a meal. School children eat it every day in their lunches, and families commonly use it for breakfast. Notice the tiny Dome of the Rock model on top of the spice mountain. I couldn't resist taking a picture of this man's artistry!
This picture of Mark is on the steps just near the door to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. I also tried to photograph the Greek Orthodox priest behind him without drawing any attention. At this point, we were drenched with sweat and it was over 90 degrees at 9:30 in the morning.
This is the entrance into the Church of the Sepulchre. It was just to the left of this that I took the picture of Mark. The Israeli soldiers had parked themselves just inside the front door, on a bench. I felt their presence in that holy place was distracting and unnecessary, but I tried to ignore them and not get them in any of the photos I was taking inside of the church complex.
This is just to the right of the Church of the Sepulchre. It is part of the church complex.
This is one of the domes inside of the church, near the Holy Sepulchre. The lines of the architecture were stunning and the possible compositions endless...You had to shoot above everyone's heads, though, as there were several hundred people in the church by 10:00 am. (and I've got to tell you, I love the mixture of lines in this photo, even if I did get a guy's head in it that I will have to remove later.)
V : )
Jerusalem's Modern Manifestation (V-Part I)
Thoughts on places in Jerusalem:
1. The Damascus Gate is probably much as it was throughout the last 2000 years or so...bustling, loud, immense, crowded, and sometimes smelly. It engages you in all your senses, really...food, drink, household things, clothing, etc. I don't think that there are any child-labor laws in this country, as children as young as five (from what I can discern) are working in the stalls here to earn money for their families. That being said, the experience was of being part of a history here that is almost as old as recorded time.
2. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre was the single most important event for me while in Jerusalem. We happened upon it as we were just exploring the marketplace. For me, I felt as if I had been led there, to just happen upon the stone where they say that Jesus was prepared for burial...I wanted to touch the place where they say he lay. We then went up the narrow steps to the mount named Calvary, where they say that Jesus suffered the tortuous death of a criminal at the hands of the Romans and ambivalent Pontius Pilot. They have a large alter there, with a place where you can kneel under it to touch the base of the stone in which the cross was placed. Afterwards, we went to the Sepulchre, which was a bit crowded with tour groups. It was to be a looong wait, so we explored the rest of the church's inner chapels. We have many photos of our explorations, but we'll post only a few here (for space).
3. The Western Wall was a really different experience. I covered my head and entered the 'womens' side' to approach the wall. It wasn't that crowded, but it was a little wait to get to the front. When I stood at the foot of the wall, hand placed where so many had been, I looked up at the sky above and just absorbed the moment. It didn't touch me as closely as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, but the historical significance was not lost on me.
4. The Dome of the Rock was astounding in it's massiveness. We have many photos there as well. We observed the respectful gestures a person should, and the Dome was supposed to be open to visitors, but they wouldn't let us in. Alas, they say that the Well of Souls and the impression of the hand of the Archangel Michael are in the rock there. The surrounding gardens were lovely to sit and comtemplate, and the mountains around the mount were lush and green. You can see the Russian Orthodox Church, with its golden domes and spires, across the hill, and the Jewish cemetary with its thousands of graves right up against each other for acres and acres.
5. The Via De La Rosa was compelling, but we will go back to walk it in the order of the walk they say Jesus took carrying the burden of the cross upon which he would die. It's a little disconcerting that some of the stations of the cross may have stalls with tomatos or shoes next to them, but Mark reminds me that it was probably the same in Jesus' day...that was the purpose in making Jesus walk so painfully through the main city streets...for all to see and mock while he moved ever closer to his fate on Calvary.
6. The city of Jerusalem wasn't as friendly as I had hoped. Although the visit is an incredible experience, there is much to be a bit sad about in terms of where Jerusalem has gone in our modern world. One example is the Tower of David. Although the citadel and such are a wonderful historical experience, the modern art attempts that dominate the inside courtyard are hideous and totally detract from the importance of that place. It was sad to see.
I will post more later...must get ready to teach today. Make sure you scroll down to read Mark's posting about Jerusalem and to see more pictures.
Love,
V
1. The Damascus Gate is probably much as it was throughout the last 2000 years or so...bustling, loud, immense, crowded, and sometimes smelly. It engages you in all your senses, really...food, drink, household things, clothing, etc. I don't think that there are any child-labor laws in this country, as children as young as five (from what I can discern) are working in the stalls here to earn money for their families. That being said, the experience was of being part of a history here that is almost as old as recorded time.
2. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre was the single most important event for me while in Jerusalem. We happened upon it as we were just exploring the marketplace. For me, I felt as if I had been led there, to just happen upon the stone where they say that Jesus was prepared for burial...I wanted to touch the place where they say he lay. We then went up the narrow steps to the mount named Calvary, where they say that Jesus suffered the tortuous death of a criminal at the hands of the Romans and ambivalent Pontius Pilot. They have a large alter there, with a place where you can kneel under it to touch the base of the stone in which the cross was placed. Afterwards, we went to the Sepulchre, which was a bit crowded with tour groups. It was to be a looong wait, so we explored the rest of the church's inner chapels. We have many photos of our explorations, but we'll post only a few here (for space).
3. The Western Wall was a really different experience. I covered my head and entered the 'womens' side' to approach the wall. It wasn't that crowded, but it was a little wait to get to the front. When I stood at the foot of the wall, hand placed where so many had been, I looked up at the sky above and just absorbed the moment. It didn't touch me as closely as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, but the historical significance was not lost on me.
4. The Dome of the Rock was astounding in it's massiveness. We have many photos there as well. We observed the respectful gestures a person should, and the Dome was supposed to be open to visitors, but they wouldn't let us in. Alas, they say that the Well of Souls and the impression of the hand of the Archangel Michael are in the rock there. The surrounding gardens were lovely to sit and comtemplate, and the mountains around the mount were lush and green. You can see the Russian Orthodox Church, with its golden domes and spires, across the hill, and the Jewish cemetary with its thousands of graves right up against each other for acres and acres.
5. The Via De La Rosa was compelling, but we will go back to walk it in the order of the walk they say Jesus took carrying the burden of the cross upon which he would die. It's a little disconcerting that some of the stations of the cross may have stalls with tomatos or shoes next to them, but Mark reminds me that it was probably the same in Jesus' day...that was the purpose in making Jesus walk so painfully through the main city streets...for all to see and mock while he moved ever closer to his fate on Calvary.
6. The city of Jerusalem wasn't as friendly as I had hoped. Although the visit is an incredible experience, there is much to be a bit sad about in terms of where Jerusalem has gone in our modern world. One example is the Tower of David. Although the citadel and such are a wonderful historical experience, the modern art attempts that dominate the inside courtyard are hideous and totally detract from the importance of that place. It was sad to see.
I will post more later...must get ready to teach today. Make sure you scroll down to read Mark's posting about Jerusalem and to see more pictures.
Love,
V
Mark Writes
We've been back from our little excursion to Jerusalem for several days, but between limited access to tech and being wiped out from two days trekking through the old city on the hottest days of the year, we're just getting to the posting. It was hot like Texas in August, with the temp hovering at 40 C. (104 in American talk). The hotel had AC, but here in Beit Sahour 
we do without, so when the temp broke a day or two ago it was a welcome respite, thou V insists "hot is hot".
We crossed the checkpoint early saturday, and being the shabbat, the guards were few and lax so we walked though easily flashing our US passports, though the guys around us had a little more scrutiny. The bus ride was literally ten times cheaper than the taxi and took us directly to the Domascus Gate where our hotel was an easy ten minute walk.
When I say easy, I mean flat. I think very few people realize that the Holy Land is wholly hilly, mountainous in fact, with steep slopes into deep valleys with most villages (and settlements) located atop the rise. The old walled city itself spans between two hills so the ancient narrow cobbled streets are often at an incline of various degrees.
Wandering the streets gave me great joy, and we stopped to get V a decent pair of walking shoes, which made all the difference. The smell of spices, the colorful fabrics, and endless artifacts was delightfully overwhelming, tempered by the hawking calls of souvenir vendors. We meandered aimlessly, turning here and there as interesting streets called to us and found ourselves wandering into the Christian Holy of Holies, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
This church contains the reputed location of Calvary - spot of Jesus' crucifixion and death - the slab where the women prepped is body (Stone of the Unction), and the Sepulchre where he was
temporarily entombed. Earlier in the day we visited the lovely and lush GardenTomb , another place where J was supposedly entombed, and I found that place more likely, but it all depends on what you believe. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is divided into four distinct parts where four different sects manage and upkeep the place, and hold four different services, often at the same time with competing incense, chants, and congregations. Even nonbelievers cannot help to be awed by this place where the life and death of Jesus Christ so drastically changed the course of history.
We found a great little restaurant in an ancient building where Victoria had chicken and I had a delicious fish and rice dish accompanied by a most refeshing beer (the first in many days). Tired and hot, we found our way back to the airconditioned hotel, where we bathed, read, and slept in cold air for the first time in two weeks.
Breakfast at the hotel was alright. We watched the many different people going to and fro, from Hassidic Jews with their unusual hats and curly locks, to fully-veiled Muslim moms with their strollers. Back in the old city, we aimed toward the Muslim quarter and the Dome of the Rock. We walked most of the Via Delorosa - the path of Christ carrying the cross to Cavalry - and then to the Wailing Wall, now called the Western Wall, on the way to the Dome.
The Dome and the surrounding grounds were spectacular, (the outside of the Holy Sepulchre isn't mush to look at) but we were disappointed when the man at the door wouldn't let us in. We sat in the cool gardens and looked across to the Mount of Olives, the Russian Ordodox Church, and the vast Jewish cemetary on the opposite hillside. They started shooing non-muslims out around eleven, so we didn't get to go into the Islamic musium as I had hoped. Maybe next time. We did however go to the archeological museum where a couple of 2000 year old houses have been excavated, and we loitered along with an English speaking tour going through.
We also went to the Citidel and the Tower of David which has been converted a historical museum of Jerusalem. The tower offers a fantastic view of the whole city, and found the air-conditioned theater very appealing. In fact, we arrived ten minutes before the video show (which was somewhat disappointing in my opinion) and stayed for some time after it was over : ). After a light lunch at a touristy resturant, we paid more than we probably should have for a taxi. We did so happily though, for it took us from the Damascus Gate, though the checkpoint, and all the way to our front door.
Upon our return, I noticed when several of our Palistinian friends asked about our weekend and we excitedly mentioned our visit to Jerusalem, they were not interested in discussing it and inevitably pointed out that the were not allowed to go there. - jmk
The first stage of the Via De la Rosa.
we do without, so when the temp broke a day or two ago it was a welcome respite, thou V insists "hot is hot".We crossed the checkpoint early saturday, and being the shabbat, the guards were few and lax so we walked though easily flashing our US passports, though the guys around us had a little more scrutiny. The bus ride was literally ten times cheaper than the taxi and took us directly to the Domascus Gate where our hotel was an easy ten minute walk.
When I say easy, I mean flat. I think very few people realize that the Holy Land is wholly hilly, mountainous in fact, with steep slopes into deep valleys with most villages (and settlements) located atop the rise. The old walled city itself spans between two hills so the ancient narrow cobbled streets are often at an incline of various degrees.
Wandering the streets gave me great joy, and we stopped to get V a decent pair of walking shoes, which made all the difference. The smell of spices, the colorful fabrics, and endless artifacts was delightfully overwhelming, tempered by the hawking calls of souvenir vendors. We meandered aimlessly, turning here and there as interesting streets called to us and found ourselves wandering into the Christian Holy of Holies, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
This church contains the reputed location of Calvary - spot of Jesus' crucifixion and death - the slab where the women prepped is body (Stone of the Unction), and the Sepulchre where he was
temporarily entombed. Earlier in the day we visited the lovely and lush GardenTomb , another place where J was supposedly entombed, and I found that place more likely, but it all depends on what you believe. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is divided into four distinct parts where four different sects manage and upkeep the place, and hold four different services, often at the same time with competing incense, chants, and congregations. Even nonbelievers cannot help to be awed by this place where the life and death of Jesus Christ so drastically changed the course of history.
We found a great little restaurant in an ancient building where Victoria had chicken and I had a delicious fish and rice dish accompanied by a most refeshing beer (the first in many days). Tired and hot, we found our way back to the airconditioned hotel, where we bathed, read, and slept in cold air for the first time in two weeks.Breakfast at the hotel was alright. We watched the many different people going to and fro, from Hassidic Jews with their unusual hats and curly locks, to fully-veiled Muslim moms with their strollers. Back in the old city, we aimed toward the Muslim quarter and the Dome of the Rock. We walked most of the Via Delorosa - the path of Christ carrying the cross to Cavalry - and then to the Wailing Wall, now called the Western Wall, on the way to the Dome.
The Dome and the surrounding grounds were spectacular, (the outside of the Holy Sepulchre isn't mush to look at) but we were disappointed when the man at the door wouldn't let us in. We sat in the cool gardens and looked across to the Mount of Olives, the Russian Ordodox Church, and the vast Jewish cemetary on the opposite hillside. They started shooing non-muslims out around eleven, so we didn't get to go into the Islamic musium as I had hoped. Maybe next time. We did however go to the archeological museum where a couple of 2000 year old houses have been excavated, and we loitered along with an English speaking tour going through.
We also went to the Citidel and the Tower of David which has been converted a historical museum of Jerusalem. The tower offers a fantastic view of the whole city, and found the air-conditioned theater very appealing. In fact, we arrived ten minutes before the video show (which was somewhat disappointing in my opinion) and stayed for some time after it was over : ). After a light lunch at a touristy resturant, we paid more than we probably should have for a taxi. We did so happily though, for it took us from the Damascus Gate, though the checkpoint, and all the way to our front door.
Upon our return, I noticed when several of our Palistinian friends asked about our weekend and we excitedly mentioned our visit to Jerusalem, they were not interested in discussing it and inevitably pointed out that the were not allowed to go there. - jmk
The first stage of the Via De la Rosa.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
The Desert of Summer
We just arrived back at the house after an evening's walk to watch the sun go down. We went to our favorite little neighborhood cafe (Ruth's Field Cafe) for some light dinner. They had iced-cream, and it's the only place I can find some scoops in our neighborhood...You can walk further to find some packaged ices, but the gelato here is preferable to me, even if it's not as good as home. For the first time since we've been here, we saw clouds. They were coming over the mountain ridge, and we could watch them as the sun went down. They were soft, like large pieces of cotton that had been pulled until they were long, thick and wispy at the ends, curling over the ridge like a blanket for the night. Before the sun went down, Mark said it looked like fog coming over the tops of the mountains. We didn't have our camera...so sad. Rare clouds in the desert of summer.
Love and love,
V
Love and love,
V
Time Machines, Spices, and a Jerusalem Promise...
Ok, everybody...The computer is working and there isn't a teenager in sight...QUICK! Post something! : D
I can't thank you enough for writing to us! We wait on every word... : D
It's evening here...around seven at night...the breeze has kicked up and the house is quite tolerable when the air is moving. We're sleeping ok at night, care of eyemasks and earplugs...I never realized how quiet our neighborhood is at home! We miss our children/family/home...This week is going quickly, so maybe all of our prayers are making the time move faster for us : ) Insh 'alla : )
I'm learning to cook all kinds of things here, and I have purchased spices to bring home. They are in air-sealed bags so that they don't come open in the luggage! Can you imagine??
Mark will upload the photos of Jerusalem for me later tonight or tomorrow morning so that I can post with our experiences in Jerusalem. There is much to describe and tell, and the photos will make the posting much better! If he somehow doesn't get them uploaded in time, I will still post descriptions of Jerusalem by tomorrow night.
We are coming home on August 11th, and we should walk on Austin, Texas soil at about six in the evening on that day. Love to all...
V : )
I can't thank you enough for writing to us! We wait on every word... : D
It's evening here...around seven at night...the breeze has kicked up and the house is quite tolerable when the air is moving. We're sleeping ok at night, care of eyemasks and earplugs...I never realized how quiet our neighborhood is at home! We miss our children/family/home...This week is going quickly, so maybe all of our prayers are making the time move faster for us : ) Insh 'alla : )
I'm learning to cook all kinds of things here, and I have purchased spices to bring home. They are in air-sealed bags so that they don't come open in the luggage! Can you imagine??
Mark will upload the photos of Jerusalem for me later tonight or tomorrow morning so that I can post with our experiences in Jerusalem. There is much to describe and tell, and the photos will make the posting much better! If he somehow doesn't get them uploaded in time, I will still post descriptions of Jerusalem by tomorrow night.
We are coming home on August 11th, and we should walk on Austin, Texas soil at about six in the evening on that day. Love to all...
V : )
Resting and Teaching...
Hey everyone,
I know that we haven't posted in the last couple of days...We spent several days in Jerusalem this first visit (There will probably be one more chance to spend some time there.), and we came back very, very exhausted. It took a couple of days to rest enough (in addition to teaching at two places...B.U. and the De La Salle Friars School) to feel human again, especially since it was 103+ for several days (a week?) I will write about Jerusalem tonight, if the computer here holds up. Someone dropped it last night. : ( Although this trip has been life-changing in many ways, we are ready to come home, I think. We miss our babies and our families. The emails and comments are water in the desert to us, so please keep writing. We will post pictures of Jerusalem today or tomorrow. I love you all and miss you as deeply as the Wadi Nar.
V : )
I know that we haven't posted in the last couple of days...We spent several days in Jerusalem this first visit (There will probably be one more chance to spend some time there.), and we came back very, very exhausted. It took a couple of days to rest enough (in addition to teaching at two places...B.U. and the De La Salle Friars School) to feel human again, especially since it was 103+ for several days (a week?) I will write about Jerusalem tonight, if the computer here holds up. Someone dropped it last night. : ( Although this trip has been life-changing in many ways, we are ready to come home, I think. We miss our babies and our families. The emails and comments are water in the desert to us, so please keep writing. We will post pictures of Jerusalem today or tomorrow. I love you all and miss you as deeply as the Wadi Nar.
V : )
Friday, July 27, 2007
I like these picts - Mark
I like this one because it really demonstrates the dichotomy of Palestine.
Click on these to see them larger. Most the others I've loaded in reduced size to save space.
This one is in downtown Ramallah. I was told owner of Starbuck's is a Zoinist, which accounts for the rather humorous sign. We also came across a version of kentucky fried, Popeye's, and a sign for the Olive Garden (but didn't actually see the restaurant).
Click on these to see them larger. Most the others I've loaded in reduced size to save space.
This one is in downtown Ramallah. I was told owner of Starbuck's is a Zoinist, which accounts for the rather humorous sign. We also came across a version of kentucky fried, Popeye's, and a sign for the Olive Garden (but didn't actually see the restaurant).
More pictures for you all : )
If you look carefully, you can see the countless bullet holes from the automatic gunfire during the seige on those who were protected in the Church of the Nativity (April 2002).
One of the sections of the mosaic floor in the Church of the Nativity
Looking over the hill to Jerusalem
Grapes of plenty in the Holy Land
Many families have grape arbors over their front doors, and they are very large (the arbors and the grapes!)
More pictures from Ramallah
Mark and Ginny
Mark is filming the hills near the Wadi Nar on the way to Ramallah...
More pictures
These buildings are on the same hill as the Church of the Nativity.
This minaret is just across on another hill near the Church of the Nativity...It was twilight, and all the minarets glow green at night (until midnight, and then the light goes off).
Friday and boy, is it hot here!
Good morning, everyone! We slept pretty well last night, despite how hot it is here right now (fan, fan, fan). We're probably going to poke around Shepard's Field a little today (also some stories about Ruth and Naomi in that field...very cool.) We have to teach today as well, so we will leave here in 4 1/2 hours for that. Class was better this week, with the exception of the power issues...oh, and the server issues...I think we will also be teaching some (kid) students at a school that the Franciscan Friars here run. We both like that we will be teaching kids, as we know them so well. This will be on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 2:30 to 3:30, and then we will take a taxi over to Bethlehem U. for our other class. We only have two more weeks here, so it's not for long.
It seems that the lady across the street from us at home (Gloria) has mowed the jungle that is our lawn, and she has arranged for it to be edged. If anybody has the chance to let her know for us how very much we appreciate this...We were both surprised and very touched that our neighbors are taking care of our home as well.
Tomorrow morning we will travel to Jerusalem (yea!)...should only take about 10 minutes or so to get to the checkpoint, and then it's anyone's guess. We will spend the night at the Grand Court Hotel (couldn't get in at the Notre Dame...ironic, huh?) , which is just up the street from the Damascus gate (on St. George st. if you want to look it up). I am very excited, and we plan on going to Jerusalem for two different weekends...that way, we get four days in Jerusalem before we leave. I am busy making our list of sites and the best ways to see them without our legs falling off. I read last night that parts of the old city wall, built by the Ottomans, are about 2000 years old...very cool.
We miss you all so much, and we think about you all the time.
Love,
V
It seems that the lady across the street from us at home (Gloria) has mowed the jungle that is our lawn, and she has arranged for it to be edged. If anybody has the chance to let her know for us how very much we appreciate this...We were both surprised and very touched that our neighbors are taking care of our home as well.
Tomorrow morning we will travel to Jerusalem (yea!)...should only take about 10 minutes or so to get to the checkpoint, and then it's anyone's guess. We will spend the night at the Grand Court Hotel (couldn't get in at the Notre Dame...ironic, huh?) , which is just up the street from the Damascus gate (on St. George st. if you want to look it up). I am very excited, and we plan on going to Jerusalem for two different weekends...that way, we get four days in Jerusalem before we leave. I am busy making our list of sites and the best ways to see them without our legs falling off. I read last night that parts of the old city wall, built by the Ottomans, are about 2000 years old...very cool.
We miss you all so much, and we think about you all the time.
Love,
V
Thursday, July 26, 2007
A few more thoughts from this morning's post...
I have a couple of things that I didn't mention in the post this morning...
1. When I say intimidating about the checkpoints, I mean that I saw a man pointing a large gun at a civilian Palestinian taxi driver who was standing some distance away from the guards and who was asking them questions. There was a delay in letting cars through or something, and their time is money, so I suppose he was anxious to be on his way. The boys (and I mean boys...they didn't look much older than my students in middle school) seemed as nervous as a new bride. We went through with no problems, and the only time we were stopped at an impromptu checkpoint, which they periodically set up in a random place, the guards asked the driver where he was from and where he was going. I don't think anyone can get used to any of this. A human being has the right to live without this kind of fear and intimidation...every human being.
2. I have the link to Relief International for you. I think their work is inspiring, and they have amazing projects in areas of the world that struggle to live through each moment of the day. They work with teachers and students, and the numbers of people they are able to touch really is staggering...something like 8000 people just in one proposed grant in Palestine. Their work is admirable, to say the least.
http://ri.org/program3.php
And this is the Relief International/Schools Online link:
http://friendshipthrougheducation.org/sonline.htm
If you have a few minutes, please read about their work. They are gifted and tireless in their efforts to provide education, dignity, freedom, and a future for our children in this world.
Much love,
Victoria : )
1. When I say intimidating about the checkpoints, I mean that I saw a man pointing a large gun at a civilian Palestinian taxi driver who was standing some distance away from the guards and who was asking them questions. There was a delay in letting cars through or something, and their time is money, so I suppose he was anxious to be on his way. The boys (and I mean boys...they didn't look much older than my students in middle school) seemed as nervous as a new bride. We went through with no problems, and the only time we were stopped at an impromptu checkpoint, which they periodically set up in a random place, the guards asked the driver where he was from and where he was going. I don't think anyone can get used to any of this. A human being has the right to live without this kind of fear and intimidation...every human being.
2. I have the link to Relief International for you. I think their work is inspiring, and they have amazing projects in areas of the world that struggle to live through each moment of the day. They work with teachers and students, and the numbers of people they are able to touch really is staggering...something like 8000 people just in one proposed grant in Palestine. Their work is admirable, to say the least.
http://ri.org/program3.php
And this is the Relief International/Schools Online link:
http://friendshipthrougheducation.org/sonline.htm
If you have a few minutes, please read about their work. They are gifted and tireless in their efforts to provide education, dignity, freedom, and a future for our children in this world.
Much love,
Victoria : )
Red Rose of Palestine
As you all know, we went to Ramallah yesterday. Mohanad helped us to hail a 'service' taxi (which is bigger than a regular taxi...think small bus). We rode high into the mountains between Bethlehem and Ramallah...From what I could read on the signs, we rode through Darsala, Abu Dis (sp?), and maybe Bethany?..The driver was very kind, sometimes stopping so that we could take pictures of the Wadi Nar (valley). I'm not sure how far we were actually seeing in the horizon, but it was a verrry long way. The mountain roads are extremely 'bendy' in places...hairpin turns all over the place, and usually a very thin two-way width. We saw sheep and goatherders with their flocks, and we took pictures and video (Mark really did some great video, and though he says it needs editing, it's really cool.) As we neared Ramallah, the fact that it is an extremely large city and very spread over the hills/mountains became apparent. There were police all over the place, and it seemed that the best thing to do was assume that they were all there for our protection; Once you adjusted the way you perceived them, you could ignore them. Bless him, there was one poor policeman who was trying to direct traffic in the congestion, and there were people all over the place; It seemed a futile effort. We walked and walked and walked, stopping in to all of the little shops and such, finding a mixture of the stuff you don't want with a few things that looked like a great representation of the area. The prices are higher in Ramallah, and there isn't as much room for haggling as there is in Bethlehem (I learned that the hard way.) We stopped into a little cafe and had some lamb schwarma and soda, cooled off, and then we continued on. We poked around, shopping and soaking in the atmosphere until around 5:00, and then we took a taxi to the Best Eastern Hotel to meet Ginny. When she arrived, Mark hugged her tightly (and I got it on film) and we all had a great orange slushy in the courtyard together. She took us to the office where she is putting together a grant proposal with a group here called Relief International/Schools Online, and we met those with whom she is working. She suggested we go to a restaurant named "Ziriya" and off we went. As we headed to the restaurant, I looked at the houses in Ramallah and there is definitely a difference in the economics of the area. While they still have the same political and economic problems as the rest of the country, they have more money in Ramallah as well. We also drove past the place where Yasser Arafat was imprisoned for three years. After arriving at the restaurant (which you would never think was what it was...stairs leading up from the busy street...and then you are in a lovely place with quiet and lovely Middle Eastern decor.), we ate some of the most wonderful food and talked for two hours or so. It was so touching to watch Mark and Ginny talk after so long, and it was as if no time had passed...at least that was my impression. She is a very sweet, very funny lady, and you could tell that she absolutely adores Mark. She told stories of Helen and Jere (yes : ) that were sweet and funny and talked with Mark about his life and the kids. It filled my heart to see them together. Soon we had to run, and we went to the street level again to catch a service taxi. We took a few more pictures (near the 'Stars and Bucks'...too funny), and they held each other and cried a little...heck, I cried just watching them together. We left for the bus station to catch the taxi...While we waited for the service to fill enough for the guy to actually drive us somewhere, we talked about the day and looked at the photos/video. The ride home was lovely when you could look at all the stars and the twinkling lights of the different villages. The hairpins were a little concerning, but the driver was very competent. No worries. The checkpoints were fine, although a little intimidating. Once we were back in Beit Sahour, we were well relieved. Did I mention that it took two different service taxis and a nice man to get us back to Beit Sahour? It's amazing how some people can argue over a sheckel or two (not us...someone else), and now we have a joke:
How long is a sheckel?
About 20 kilometers...
That's how long they argued over a sheckel!
The title of this post refers to a picture of red roses I took while in Ramallah, so I will post that when we have a chance to do so later today. We will also post pictures of Mark and Ginny.
Mark went to see another school...It's a school run by Friars here, and we may help them in some way while we're here. I'll know more when he returns. Things are good, and we are fine. We miss home.
Love to all,
V
How long is a sheckel?
About 20 kilometers...
That's how long they argued over a sheckel!
The title of this post refers to a picture of red roses I took while in Ramallah, so I will post that when we have a chance to do so later today. We will also post pictures of Mark and Ginny.
Mark went to see another school...It's a school run by Friars here, and we may help them in some way while we're here. I'll know more when he returns. Things are good, and we are fine. We miss home.
Love to all,
V
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Another place on our map...
We are on our way to Ramallah today to meet Mark's dear friend, Ginny. She is a teacher in Cairo, and she happened to be here working on a grant proposal for Relief International/Schools Online while we were nearby, so we are going to see her today. We will leave here in a taxi for a drive of about 1 1/2 hours to Ramallah. We will go through a checkpoint, and then meet her at her hotel, I think. Mark's in charge of the details, of which I am not entirely sure. She works until about 5:00, so we will see the city a little and then meet with her. Ramallah has a reputation for being very affluent and has a large Christian population. Many of the residents apparently have relatives in America. They say that it is very expensive looking there, with hotels and resorts. I'll let you know what we find and our impressions upon our return. We will spend much of the evening with Ginny, and then we will return to Bethlehem (maybe by 11:00 pm our time/3:00 pm Texas time).
Another new place today...and then I think we will go to Jeruselem on Saturday morning for a Saturday/Sunday visit. We hope to go to Jeruselem two times while we are here. I have been wanting to go there very badly, but our classes have been almost every day.
We miss and love you all. Thank you for your words of encouragement and love in your emails and comments. You help us more than you know.
V : )
Another new place today...and then I think we will go to Jeruselem on Saturday morning for a Saturday/Sunday visit. We hope to go to Jeruselem two times while we are here. I have been wanting to go there very badly, but our classes have been almost every day.
We miss and love you all. Thank you for your words of encouragement and love in your emails and comments. You help us more than you know.
V : )
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Sending Love Home...
I went to the roof tonight, and the breeze and sunset were the best I've seen so far during our time here. I was thinking of home, and I looked up to see the moon above me. I was seeing the moon during this night before it would come to watch over all of you, and I sent my love home on the back of the moon, to be carried to the other side of the world...to warm you in the night while we are so far away.
V
V
Pretty Victoria and same old me
Victoria let Maram do up her hair and make-up for a wedding party last night where she danced and danced. I found out shortly before time to go that it was a "woman" thing, but wasn't too disappointed.
This is where we are doing the posting and emailing and such.
The actual spot
Mark and Mohannad walking toward the Nativity Church. Not much to look at from the outside. Church upon church have been built here for about 1700 years.This is the actual spot of the manger in which Christ was first
placed. - jmk
getting some picts posted - jmk
This is looking across shepard's field where the angels appeared to announce the birth of Christ and I took it standing about 2 blocks from the house. Note the olive trees that have been there for literally hundreds of years. The Jewish settlement in the background hasn't been there nearly so long.
Renown for the best filafil, not only in town, but in the West Bank, and for good reason. His shop is just off Manger Square in Bethlehem near the Nativity Church, reputedly built on the spot of Christ's birth.- jmk
Parties, Hearts, and Fashion Tips
Good morning! The sounds of men working on a building (residential) outside have begun, and the streets are pulsing again. It's about 10:00 am here, and Mark and I have had the second in a two night stretch of really sleeping. I am almost afraid to write that, as I don't want to change the fortune of a great thing (sleeping well). It makes a big difference in how you relate to everything...
Aria was invited to a 'going away' party for the daughter of a friend last night. It was a very dressed up event, and even though I had a long skirt and a top, I was definitely a little under-dressed, I think. I had a chance to really understand some of the fashion rules here:
1. You can wear a revealing top if you wear an undershirt. The women here have these stretchy undershirts that are long-sleeved and hug the body. The cut of the top over it is what people look at and not the skin. I've seen some skin-revealing things, and the only people who can wear them without an undershirt are very young girls (2-12 years old).
2. Match color families when you dress. The texture of a garment isn't as important as the colors you are wearing, and women here wear all the colors under the rainbow. They even coordinate their accessories by color. They have these little scarf-pins that they use to secure their headscarves (hijab), and they match the color of the little flower or jewel on the pin to their clothes.
3. High heels are a THING here. If you have a dinner engagement, party, or meeting, you will see many high-heels. *sigh* I don't even know how they walk in them!
4. Ok, you are expected to dance when people are dancing. And they can dance for HOURS...Where we might be used to dancing for a couple of songs and then take a rest, the women will dance for 8 or 10 songs! And sometimes the women are the ones on the dancefloor with each other, and sometimes the men are on the dancefloor with each other. There is sometimes a mix of men who come to dance when the women are dancing, but they are typically family (brothers, sons, etc.) The fathers don't dance much, unless it's when all the men are dancing, and then it's very animated! They are unhibited and it is great fun to watch them dance with such happiness. And as I watched the women dance, they each have a very different style of dancing. Using your hands is very important, and the men and women both use them with astounding grace. Your expression is through your hands and your hips. And the center of gravity for women when they dance is very different than in the United States. I think they're absolutely beautiful when they dance, and I wish I was that graceful. Even the tiny girls were practicing...You would see a lovely little 2 year old trying out her own style, and they were amazingly good!
5. Some women wear the headscarves and some don't. I have seen a healthy mix here of both. Usually, if a woman is married (even a young one), she will wear a scarf. Some of the older women don't wear one and some do. Aria told me that she wears one when going to market or a friends house (until they get there), but at home, no. She said that her husband (who has passed away) didn't like the headscarves, and that she didn't have to wear one when he was alive, but that the people here know she is a widow, and they pressure her to wear a scarf when she is out and about. Many times, the women will remove their scarves when they are inside a house they are visiting, but sometimes they don't. It's really preference.
6. Women wear pants, skirts...basically whatever they are comfortable in. Sometimes a girl will pass us in jeans and a short-sleeved top. Sometimes women are wearing regular street-clothes, and sometimes they are in the traditional long robe over their regular clothes (until they get home). The robes they wear are elaborately embroidered and I don't think they've changed in a thousand years, except for the use of the zipper in them. Sometimes, they are traditionally sewn, with no zippers, but many like the ease of the zipper these days. I am going to try to find a good price on one to bring home so that I can show you how beautiful they are here. We went into a shop in the market the other day, and Aria was haggling with the shopkeeper over one that I liked. At first he wanted 300-400 shekels for one, and Aria wasn't about to put up with that. She said, "We leave." and we left! When we got out into the street, she said, "No 300 shekels!" and made a face. She went back in and apparently negotiated with him without me there (which I found brings the price down...I wind up paying two or three times what the locals pay because I am American, and Aria and Maram, her daughter, have decided that they will pay for what I want when we are out. I give them the money and they negotiate and pay.) When Aria returned, she said, "No 100 shekels...We come back another day, and maybe 75!"
7. Accessories...Many women wear earrings, and they love them big here! Bracelets are a fashion must, and virtually every woman wears multiple necklaces. And if you have gold, you wear it when you go visiting. I haven't investigated price on the gold here, yet, but I will before I leave. I've looked into the shop-windows in the markets and they have so much of it here. Much of it has intricate designs and amazing detail. The silver is lovely, too...incorporating gems/stones native to the area.
The party last night resembled a Quincenera back home, but with some differences. The bride-to-be, whose husband is in Jordan awaiting her arrival for their wedding, was the only one in an extremely, extremely fancy dress...all glittered and spangled. When she arrived, she was walking with her family leading her in, singing and clapping. When they made it to the dancefloor, the family (men and women) danced around her for three songs or so, and then the women danced for a long time. The bride is expected to dance every dance possible, and it is apparently very good to dance with her, as each person tried to at one point or another. I was the subject of curious attention, and the matriarch of the family (great-grandmother) took my hand and wanted to dance with me first; She hugged me and showed me great affection, and then the mother danced with me. The mother was so kind, and moved about the crowd to make sure everyone was singing and dancing. Then, the sister of the bride (who was an amazing dancer) danced with me, and took me to her sister, the bride, to have her dance with me. I am, apparently, all over the video now (They had a videographer taping everything.) After a while, they handed out tiny eclairs and a can of orange soda to refresh their guests. Very different than at home, but charming, as soda is a real thing here, too. How I wish they knew about Dr. Pepper! : ) The women at the party sat on one side of the dancefloor and had front-row seats to watch if they weren't dancing, and the gossip and laughing just flew over there! The men all sat in a line against the wall some distance away, and I don't know if it was a relief to them not to have to hear the women gossip or if they were lonely. None of them looked terribly happy over there! The power went out three times, and we decided to leave for the night around 10:00 pm. We said goodbye to the mother and the bride, and walked home in the night.
Aria told me a story yesterday about her husband. She loves him very much, and misses him. She said he was much like Mark...quiet, thinking all the time, but sweet and kind to his family. She said that they knew about each other for seven years, and she wanted to marry him all that time, but that her parents wouldn't let her. Finally, after all that time, they said, "Yes, ok...", and they married. They only had about 12 years together or so, because they had five children, and when he died, they were about 2, 4, 6, 10, and 12 years old. She was left to raise them by herself when he died. She explained that she was "Very angry when husband die...no party, no friends, no go out...Men come, say it's ok to marry another, but no, I love Naji!" She looked at me with so much mist in her eyes...She said, "You, Mark...very lucky...love...I very happy with family, but no Naji...no happy heart." I felt so bad for Aria, and I told her thank you for telling me about her great love...
It looks like we're going to eat soon. I will shower (which I love, love, love here...the only real way to cool down...I take two or three a day now!), and we will eat. We don't teach today, so we will probably explore. I know we will go to Ramallah soon to meet Mark's friend, Ginny, and I am excited to meet someone who has known him so long. I am a little hesitant about the checkpoint, as the people here have so much trouble with it, but we will try, I think.
I long for rain...I know you've been having rain at home, and mom says that we may have to machete the lawns when we return. It's very dry here, and some rain would be welcome.
I miss our children's voices and laughter...and their hugs. *sigh* We talk about them every day, and everyone wants to see their pictures and know about them. They ask if we will bring them to Bethlehem with us if we come again, and we say, "Yes..." I miss our beautiful children.
Love you all,
V : )
Aria was invited to a 'going away' party for the daughter of a friend last night. It was a very dressed up event, and even though I had a long skirt and a top, I was definitely a little under-dressed, I think. I had a chance to really understand some of the fashion rules here:
1. You can wear a revealing top if you wear an undershirt. The women here have these stretchy undershirts that are long-sleeved and hug the body. The cut of the top over it is what people look at and not the skin. I've seen some skin-revealing things, and the only people who can wear them without an undershirt are very young girls (2-12 years old).
2. Match color families when you dress. The texture of a garment isn't as important as the colors you are wearing, and women here wear all the colors under the rainbow. They even coordinate their accessories by color. They have these little scarf-pins that they use to secure their headscarves (hijab), and they match the color of the little flower or jewel on the pin to their clothes.
3. High heels are a THING here. If you have a dinner engagement, party, or meeting, you will see many high-heels. *sigh* I don't even know how they walk in them!
4. Ok, you are expected to dance when people are dancing. And they can dance for HOURS...Where we might be used to dancing for a couple of songs and then take a rest, the women will dance for 8 or 10 songs! And sometimes the women are the ones on the dancefloor with each other, and sometimes the men are on the dancefloor with each other. There is sometimes a mix of men who come to dance when the women are dancing, but they are typically family (brothers, sons, etc.) The fathers don't dance much, unless it's when all the men are dancing, and then it's very animated! They are unhibited and it is great fun to watch them dance with such happiness. And as I watched the women dance, they each have a very different style of dancing. Using your hands is very important, and the men and women both use them with astounding grace. Your expression is through your hands and your hips. And the center of gravity for women when they dance is very different than in the United States. I think they're absolutely beautiful when they dance, and I wish I was that graceful. Even the tiny girls were practicing...You would see a lovely little 2 year old trying out her own style, and they were amazingly good!
5. Some women wear the headscarves and some don't. I have seen a healthy mix here of both. Usually, if a woman is married (even a young one), she will wear a scarf. Some of the older women don't wear one and some do. Aria told me that she wears one when going to market or a friends house (until they get there), but at home, no. She said that her husband (who has passed away) didn't like the headscarves, and that she didn't have to wear one when he was alive, but that the people here know she is a widow, and they pressure her to wear a scarf when she is out and about. Many times, the women will remove their scarves when they are inside a house they are visiting, but sometimes they don't. It's really preference.
6. Women wear pants, skirts...basically whatever they are comfortable in. Sometimes a girl will pass us in jeans and a short-sleeved top. Sometimes women are wearing regular street-clothes, and sometimes they are in the traditional long robe over their regular clothes (until they get home). The robes they wear are elaborately embroidered and I don't think they've changed in a thousand years, except for the use of the zipper in them. Sometimes, they are traditionally sewn, with no zippers, but many like the ease of the zipper these days. I am going to try to find a good price on one to bring home so that I can show you how beautiful they are here. We went into a shop in the market the other day, and Aria was haggling with the shopkeeper over one that I liked. At first he wanted 300-400 shekels for one, and Aria wasn't about to put up with that. She said, "We leave." and we left! When we got out into the street, she said, "No 300 shekels!" and made a face. She went back in and apparently negotiated with him without me there (which I found brings the price down...I wind up paying two or three times what the locals pay because I am American, and Aria and Maram, her daughter, have decided that they will pay for what I want when we are out. I give them the money and they negotiate and pay.) When Aria returned, she said, "No 100 shekels...We come back another day, and maybe 75!"
7. Accessories...Many women wear earrings, and they love them big here! Bracelets are a fashion must, and virtually every woman wears multiple necklaces. And if you have gold, you wear it when you go visiting. I haven't investigated price on the gold here, yet, but I will before I leave. I've looked into the shop-windows in the markets and they have so much of it here. Much of it has intricate designs and amazing detail. The silver is lovely, too...incorporating gems/stones native to the area.
The party last night resembled a Quincenera back home, but with some differences. The bride-to-be, whose husband is in Jordan awaiting her arrival for their wedding, was the only one in an extremely, extremely fancy dress...all glittered and spangled. When she arrived, she was walking with her family leading her in, singing and clapping. When they made it to the dancefloor, the family (men and women) danced around her for three songs or so, and then the women danced for a long time. The bride is expected to dance every dance possible, and it is apparently very good to dance with her, as each person tried to at one point or another. I was the subject of curious attention, and the matriarch of the family (great-grandmother) took my hand and wanted to dance with me first; She hugged me and showed me great affection, and then the mother danced with me. The mother was so kind, and moved about the crowd to make sure everyone was singing and dancing. Then, the sister of the bride (who was an amazing dancer) danced with me, and took me to her sister, the bride, to have her dance with me. I am, apparently, all over the video now (They had a videographer taping everything.) After a while, they handed out tiny eclairs and a can of orange soda to refresh their guests. Very different than at home, but charming, as soda is a real thing here, too. How I wish they knew about Dr. Pepper! : ) The women at the party sat on one side of the dancefloor and had front-row seats to watch if they weren't dancing, and the gossip and laughing just flew over there! The men all sat in a line against the wall some distance away, and I don't know if it was a relief to them not to have to hear the women gossip or if they were lonely. None of them looked terribly happy over there! The power went out three times, and we decided to leave for the night around 10:00 pm. We said goodbye to the mother and the bride, and walked home in the night.
Aria told me a story yesterday about her husband. She loves him very much, and misses him. She said he was much like Mark...quiet, thinking all the time, but sweet and kind to his family. She said that they knew about each other for seven years, and she wanted to marry him all that time, but that her parents wouldn't let her. Finally, after all that time, they said, "Yes, ok...", and they married. They only had about 12 years together or so, because they had five children, and when he died, they were about 2, 4, 6, 10, and 12 years old. She was left to raise them by herself when he died. She explained that she was "Very angry when husband die...no party, no friends, no go out...Men come, say it's ok to marry another, but no, I love Naji!" She looked at me with so much mist in her eyes...She said, "You, Mark...very lucky...love...I very happy with family, but no Naji...no happy heart." I felt so bad for Aria, and I told her thank you for telling me about her great love...
It looks like we're going to eat soon. I will shower (which I love, love, love here...the only real way to cool down...I take two or three a day now!), and we will eat. We don't teach today, so we will probably explore. I know we will go to Ramallah soon to meet Mark's friend, Ginny, and I am excited to meet someone who has known him so long. I am a little hesitant about the checkpoint, as the people here have so much trouble with it, but we will try, I think.
I long for rain...I know you've been having rain at home, and mom says that we may have to machete the lawns when we return. It's very dry here, and some rain would be welcome.
I miss our children's voices and laughter...and their hugs. *sigh* We talk about them every day, and everyone wants to see their pictures and know about them. They ask if we will bring them to Bethlehem with us if we come again, and we say, "Yes..." I miss our beautiful children.
Love you all,
V : )
Friday, July 20, 2007
Moon Over Bethlehem
Just returned from a visit with some of Aria's friends down the road (hill)...We sat on the back patio of their home while the sun set and the evening breeze came up...We drank that wonderful hot tea that I love so much and is such a tradition for everyone to serve someone who comes to visit; It's the first thing they offer, no matter how hot it is or the time of day...and you know, it's sooo good. I worry that I won't be able to make it the way they do once we're home. And they always, always serve things to drink in these tiny glasses...the glasses here make our glasses at home look like Hum-Vees compared to a tiny Vespa! (I'm bringing some of them home with me, as well as some of Najiya's famous coffee (She's the Aunt, remember?) They show me how to make all these things, and if I can remember I will make them for you all when I return!
I watched the moon rise over Bethlehem through the tall palm-trees and listened to the women talk, lyrical and energetic...you can't help but begin to pick up some of what they say when you watch them and their expressions, and then you begin to pick up repeated phrases and words. I met more friends, and Samira (Aria's friend from Jordan) gave a candle and handmade card to me from her shop where she helps adult special-needs people to have social interaction and work each day. She said that they made that candle especially for me today, and the pressed paper card has sand from the hills of Bethlehem on it; I think I will frame it when I get home, and I will put the story of how it was made and when it was given to me on the back of the frame.
We walked back in the dark, perfectly safe, arm-in-arm, talking about the conversation and the family. We're back here now, Mark snoozing on the couch (YES!), and the family relaxing. I will eat a bite and then read some. If Mark is still sleeping when it's time to go to bed, I will leave him where he is, for fear that he won't get back to sleep!
I hope I dream of you all and home tonight. Love you,
V : )
I watched the moon rise over Bethlehem through the tall palm-trees and listened to the women talk, lyrical and energetic...you can't help but begin to pick up some of what they say when you watch them and their expressions, and then you begin to pick up repeated phrases and words. I met more friends, and Samira (Aria's friend from Jordan) gave a candle and handmade card to me from her shop where she helps adult special-needs people to have social interaction and work each day. She said that they made that candle especially for me today, and the pressed paper card has sand from the hills of Bethlehem on it; I think I will frame it when I get home, and I will put the story of how it was made and when it was given to me on the back of the frame.
We walked back in the dark, perfectly safe, arm-in-arm, talking about the conversation and the family. We're back here now, Mark snoozing on the couch (YES!), and the family relaxing. I will eat a bite and then read some. If Mark is still sleeping when it's time to go to bed, I will leave him where he is, for fear that he won't get back to sleep!
I hope I dream of you all and home tonight. Love you,
V : )
Markets, Mark, and Mosquitos...
Hello all...It's terribly hot here today, and it was the same last night...drove me CRAZY...got up to wet a towel in the sink so that we could be a little cooler. There was NO sleep last night. Tonight we will have a fan, so it should help with the night sounds (white noise) and the moving air, which should make a difference, you know? (I HOPE SO!)
Yesterday morning, Aria took me to the Arab market here (the locals, not the tourist market), and it was WONDERFUL...The market stalls are very, very close together (touching)...big tables and open boxes of fruits, veggies, and the carcasses of the meat hanging above (but be sure to duck...they're not that high!) Aria knows who gives the best deal on all the things she buys, so we passed others who had what she wanted, but not at the price she was willing to pay! Even groceries are haggled! The idea of 'personal space' is different here as well. In a public space, Americans typically give a little room and preserve a sense of the individual while going about their day. It's not that way here; when you are in a public space, you might be jostled a little as others try to get past you, but they are always very polite and it seems not so much being in 'your space', but just going about their day in an area that tends to be so small that if someone should sneeze in Beit Sahour, someone will bless them from Manger Square! It gave me a distinct sense of safety and intimacy, as if all here are pulsing with the same heart, the same blood, and the same life...a huge family. I have only had two people walk up to ask me to come to their stores, and that was so politely done that I never felt 'accosted'. Maybe it's the teacher in me, but the children don't even come to me to ask for sheckles! Aria helped me in so many things...showing me how to haggle (without arabic, it's impossible for me), how to select things from the market, and what kinds of things many women here wear (Accessories are a big part of their dress for the day.)
Aria has just mentioned that she is going to see a friend and would like me to go along, so I will make this closing quick...classes have not been going well and Mark is very upset. I don't know what will happen, but neither of us is used to troubled resources and little support. I'll talk more about it later, but I am hoping that you can give Mark some words of encouragement.
I love you all and we're missing home and our families very much...
* Have I mentioned that the mosquitos are the size of VW cars here? I swear, I'm a liter lighter because of the little demons...*
V : )
Yesterday morning, Aria took me to the Arab market here (the locals, not the tourist market), and it was WONDERFUL...The market stalls are very, very close together (touching)...big tables and open boxes of fruits, veggies, and the carcasses of the meat hanging above (but be sure to duck...they're not that high!) Aria knows who gives the best deal on all the things she buys, so we passed others who had what she wanted, but not at the price she was willing to pay! Even groceries are haggled! The idea of 'personal space' is different here as well. In a public space, Americans typically give a little room and preserve a sense of the individual while going about their day. It's not that way here; when you are in a public space, you might be jostled a little as others try to get past you, but they are always very polite and it seems not so much being in 'your space', but just going about their day in an area that tends to be so small that if someone should sneeze in Beit Sahour, someone will bless them from Manger Square! It gave me a distinct sense of safety and intimacy, as if all here are pulsing with the same heart, the same blood, and the same life...a huge family. I have only had two people walk up to ask me to come to their stores, and that was so politely done that I never felt 'accosted'. Maybe it's the teacher in me, but the children don't even come to me to ask for sheckles! Aria helped me in so many things...showing me how to haggle (without arabic, it's impossible for me), how to select things from the market, and what kinds of things many women here wear (Accessories are a big part of their dress for the day.)
Aria has just mentioned that she is going to see a friend and would like me to go along, so I will make this closing quick...classes have not been going well and Mark is very upset. I don't know what will happen, but neither of us is used to troubled resources and little support. I'll talk more about it later, but I am hoping that you can give Mark some words of encouragement.
I love you all and we're missing home and our families very much...
* Have I mentioned that the mosquitos are the size of VW cars here? I swear, I'm a liter lighter because of the little demons...*
V : )
Thursday, July 19, 2007
blogging the blog blog
I told her I would post so I am. Still working to get some pictures up, but you know how technology can be. This poor little laptop takes a beating from all who use it for everything from playing videos to IMing to english grammar lessons. The ethernet cord is frayed and we lose connection is we wiggle to much. I started to work in Word the other day and I wasn't too concerned with the cursor on the right side of the screen but when the letters came out it arabic... .
The class will be ok but the whole lack of communication of expectations is telling as there are people who already have decent experience looking for more and others that aren't entirely sure what they are doing at all. I'll just plug along but 2 1/2 hours can seem eternal.
We have felt entire safe and have had little concern to this point, but we haven't gotten out of Bethlehem yet. We can see the wall the Israelis have built from Bethlehem and the settlements are easy to pick out. They are a bunch of new, walled, identical apt buildings situated on hills that had been otherwise occupied for hundreds of years. And if you follow the geography, they are careful to make sure that the water supplies are on the jewish side, and the wall is built on Palestinian land without regard for how it affects the welfare of the native people. The wall often literally separates farmers from their fields.
We're anxious to get out and travel a little to see the situation more clearly. We hear stories of Jewish oppression especially concerning travel in Palestine. We'll probably go to Jerusalem this weekend to see that ancient place and though we got in easily, its likely to be more difficult going out again. We want to make it to Jericho and I would love to add the dead sea to my collection of bodies of water in which I have swam. We have some hope to cross to Jordan to see Petra but that may prove to be more difficult. We'll see.
We've had a great time so far, but I think we will pick up more duties soon and have less time to just be with these wonderfully generous people we are staying with.
More later, insh'allah. - jmk
The class will be ok but the whole lack of communication of expectations is telling as there are people who already have decent experience looking for more and others that aren't entirely sure what they are doing at all. I'll just plug along but 2 1/2 hours can seem eternal.
We have felt entire safe and have had little concern to this point, but we haven't gotten out of Bethlehem yet. We can see the wall the Israelis have built from Bethlehem and the settlements are easy to pick out. They are a bunch of new, walled, identical apt buildings situated on hills that had been otherwise occupied for hundreds of years. And if you follow the geography, they are careful to make sure that the water supplies are on the jewish side, and the wall is built on Palestinian land without regard for how it affects the welfare of the native people. The wall often literally separates farmers from their fields.
We're anxious to get out and travel a little to see the situation more clearly. We hear stories of Jewish oppression especially concerning travel in Palestine. We'll probably go to Jerusalem this weekend to see that ancient place and though we got in easily, its likely to be more difficult going out again. We want to make it to Jericho and I would love to add the dead sea to my collection of bodies of water in which I have swam. We have some hope to cross to Jordan to see Petra but that may prove to be more difficult. We'll see.
We've had a great time so far, but I think we will pick up more duties soon and have less time to just be with these wonderfully generous people we are staying with.
More later, insh'allah. - jmk
Good morning
Good morning! It's about 8:45 am here now, and the day is beginning. Mark is awake, but not up yet. He slept better last night, but I'm not sure yet how much better. We also had to keep the door closed when we slept, as the mosquitos here are HUGE (four time larger than at home, I am SURE of it!), and they eat ME alive if the door is open. It's too bad, as the breeze keeps our room cooler at night, and we are living without air-conditioning. In fact, the only place I've been that has had air-conditioning is the university computer lab, and they said that they had only just had it installed very recently!
The days are very bright here, very early. I would like to be able to go to the balcony in the morning when I have my tea, but it's already so bright, and the reflection of the sun off of the stones of the buildings amplifies the sun's brightness, so it's not comfortable at all to be out in it. The hottest part of the day is between about 1:00 pm and 5:00 pm (just like at home, I guess). My favorite part of the day is after 5:00 pm, when the sun begins to get lower in the sky...leading to the sunset. The breezes come up and make it very nice to sit outside. In fact, we sometimes have dinner outside on the front porch! They will put tiny tables outside and we will sit together very close and talk while we eat under the indigo of the night sky. I love that. And the house is sitting very high off of the ground, so we have a good view of the city lights.
It looks like we're having breakfast, so I must run. I will write again tonight and tell you of the events of the day.
Miss you all very, very much...
V
The days are very bright here, very early. I would like to be able to go to the balcony in the morning when I have my tea, but it's already so bright, and the reflection of the sun off of the stones of the buildings amplifies the sun's brightness, so it's not comfortable at all to be out in it. The hottest part of the day is between about 1:00 pm and 5:00 pm (just like at home, I guess). My favorite part of the day is after 5:00 pm, when the sun begins to get lower in the sky...leading to the sunset. The breezes come up and make it very nice to sit outside. In fact, we sometimes have dinner outside on the front porch! They will put tiny tables outside and we will sit together very close and talk while we eat under the indigo of the night sky. I love that. And the house is sitting very high off of the ground, so we have a good view of the city lights.
It looks like we're having breakfast, so I must run. I will write again tonight and tell you of the events of the day.
Miss you all very, very much...
V
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Heartache and Growth
I awaken so sad this morning.
Mark didn't sleep again. He said he honestly doesn't know what is wrong. I think the night was too hot again (last night was warmer than the night before), and the bed is harder than at home, so it makes it different in an uncomfortable way, despite the fact that he says he likes a hard bed. There are several pharmacies nearby, so he will stop to try to find something to help him sleep. I am hopeful he will find something. I will also try to adjust his evening a little...little rituals that prepare him for sleep...bedtime tea from home (I brought some with us.), a cool cloth for his face...I don't know. I will try anything. *sigh*
And the other reason I am very sad this morning is because I had nightmares. After having such a wonderful day yesterday learning about the culture and how people interact, some of the conversation turned to some of the misunderstandings about each other's countries. Mark and I were outside, in the cool night air/breeze, talking with Mohamned (who has been such a good friend to us). We talked about how truly touched we are at how well-taken-care-of we are by all whom we meet, and how joyful the people are here, despite the difficulties of very little money and the travel issues. We said that part of what we will tell others is how different it is here than it is in the news, and that what we hear on the tele is not necessarily how it is all over. Mohamned said the same thing about what people here think about living in America. He said that people here tend to think it is dangerous and violent for all of us back home. He said that they hear songs/music and the news and think that it's hard to live in America. Mohamned's brother, Husam, travels in America often, and he tells Mohamned that it isn't true...that America is beautiful and safe, and that the problems are in some areas, but that the people in America are good to him and make him very welcome and cared about. Mohamned said that he corrects his friends or others here who may not understand America/Americans, and that the Americans who come to be with his family here are really kind and good people. We asked him about the checkpoints (He was stopped for an hour in the hot sun the other day when he went to Ramallah to see a friend.) He told us of a friend of his who was stripped in front of all by a woman guard and then the other guards beat him that way, and that he was shamed and hurt. He said that we could see it for ourselves (meet him), and we asked why they would do that. Mohamned said that many Israeli young people do not want to be in the military, and that they see young men like himself as the reason they must be there, unhappy, and that they are angry because of that. When Mohamned talked about this, he didn't show ANY hatred for the guards. He expressed how much he wished they understood that he doesn't hate them, and that he was sad that they felt anger or didn't like him/others like him. Now let me reinforce for you what kind of person Mohamned is...He has been kind, patient, and giving of everything he has. He and his family treat us as family, giving us all they can, all they have. They are joyful and so wonderful to be with, and it saddened me last night to hear him talk about the things that one would think could be solved by two people looking at each other as individuals, in that one moment, and to make the choice to be good to each other. I explained that I teach about the Civil Rights Movement in my classes, and what a process of changing the way so many people think and interact in the culture in America, but that if we can do it, it can be done anywhere. Mohamned saw how much Mark and I believe in the equality of all human beings, and how we feel so deeply that all people deserve dignity and love. My heart breaks to think of how much work there is for that here due to misunderstanding and past insults to their families. My heart aches for both Israel and Palestine, like two siblings who fight or try to talk, but are so hurt...But you must understand how much hope there is here, too. There is hope amongst the people here. I believe in the hearts and souls of all these people, Israeli and Palestinian, and I see the love and joy they have, and I hope for them...and in turn, for all the World.
So my bad dreams last night were because of this heartache. My dreams were filled with being chased, trying to protect my children from those who might hurt us, and running to find a safe place...doing anything I could to protect them...anything. The emotions of a mother's heart and soul are universal. If we are to heal this world, I believe it is the mothers who must demand it, guide it, understand it, and teach it to their children, so that anything short of peace is unacceptable on a deep, matrilineal level...instinctual. I passionately believe and teach that all deserve to live, to love, to learn, to share, and to speak their hearts with respect. It is the core of what drives me to be a teacher. There are many here who believe it, too. I will defend anyone's rights to these things, no matter their nationality. Do I sound idealistic? Only to cynics. Mrs. Lyndon Baines Johnson believed the same things. I met her, listened to her speak, have worked with her daughter Luci on many occasions in my teachings, and Mrs. Johnson never stopped believing and working for those things, despite others around her to tried to change that. She was powerful because of her clarity and deep love of others...and her commitment to equality and dignity for all have always inspired me.
I think Mrs. Johnson would have enjoyed the teaching, the interactions with others yesterday. At one point, when we returned from the university last evening, Aria (Mohamned's mother) took my hand and invited me over to sit with some friends of hers who had come for a short visit. The women were all sitting together in a circle, and more kept arriving. Some from Jordan, Syria, Jeruselem, Beit Sahour...and they all laughed and were so animated and so much fun to be with...they worked to include me and truly made me feel that I was one of them and welcome, despite the fact that I didn't understand a word they said. I watched the language of their faces and their bodies...I listened to the intonations and the lyrics of their voices...the pace of their words...They were wonderful. They would sometimes take my hand and talk with me or to the others about me, and a few words could be translated by Aria so that I could understand. They all invited me to their homes, to their work...many of the women work with little children as teachers, or they work with special needs people...giving them work to do so that they have a way to live. The women want to take me to the market and teach me to shop for spices and other things. They want to give me tea and show me their lives. Who cannot be touched by this love and openness??? How is it that anyone can ever say that God, the Universe, is not present in those moments, those people? I cannot believe how fortunate I am, and I understand why I am here, why my path has brought me here, a little better.
We are better people, better souls in this world, when we see God/the Universe in others and the beauty of the lives that exist here with us. We must reflect this beauty back at the world in order to change it, and we must do it in a myriad of ways so as to learn as well as teach. In this, we gain depth, dimension, and hope.
As flawed as this world can be, I love it. It pains me sometimes, and I beg for understanding and love in all we do. It's why we're here, I think...to learn those things.
I love you all very much, and I miss you beyond words. Truly.
V
Mark didn't sleep again. He said he honestly doesn't know what is wrong. I think the night was too hot again (last night was warmer than the night before), and the bed is harder than at home, so it makes it different in an uncomfortable way, despite the fact that he says he likes a hard bed. There are several pharmacies nearby, so he will stop to try to find something to help him sleep. I am hopeful he will find something. I will also try to adjust his evening a little...little rituals that prepare him for sleep...bedtime tea from home (I brought some with us.), a cool cloth for his face...I don't know. I will try anything. *sigh*
And the other reason I am very sad this morning is because I had nightmares. After having such a wonderful day yesterday learning about the culture and how people interact, some of the conversation turned to some of the misunderstandings about each other's countries. Mark and I were outside, in the cool night air/breeze, talking with Mohamned (who has been such a good friend to us). We talked about how truly touched we are at how well-taken-care-of we are by all whom we meet, and how joyful the people are here, despite the difficulties of very little money and the travel issues. We said that part of what we will tell others is how different it is here than it is in the news, and that what we hear on the tele is not necessarily how it is all over. Mohamned said the same thing about what people here think about living in America. He said that people here tend to think it is dangerous and violent for all of us back home. He said that they hear songs/music and the news and think that it's hard to live in America. Mohamned's brother, Husam, travels in America often, and he tells Mohamned that it isn't true...that America is beautiful and safe, and that the problems are in some areas, but that the people in America are good to him and make him very welcome and cared about. Mohamned said that he corrects his friends or others here who may not understand America/Americans, and that the Americans who come to be with his family here are really kind and good people. We asked him about the checkpoints (He was stopped for an hour in the hot sun the other day when he went to Ramallah to see a friend.) He told us of a friend of his who was stripped in front of all by a woman guard and then the other guards beat him that way, and that he was shamed and hurt. He said that we could see it for ourselves (meet him), and we asked why they would do that. Mohamned said that many Israeli young people do not want to be in the military, and that they see young men like himself as the reason they must be there, unhappy, and that they are angry because of that. When Mohamned talked about this, he didn't show ANY hatred for the guards. He expressed how much he wished they understood that he doesn't hate them, and that he was sad that they felt anger or didn't like him/others like him. Now let me reinforce for you what kind of person Mohamned is...He has been kind, patient, and giving of everything he has. He and his family treat us as family, giving us all they can, all they have. They are joyful and so wonderful to be with, and it saddened me last night to hear him talk about the things that one would think could be solved by two people looking at each other as individuals, in that one moment, and to make the choice to be good to each other. I explained that I teach about the Civil Rights Movement in my classes, and what a process of changing the way so many people think and interact in the culture in America, but that if we can do it, it can be done anywhere. Mohamned saw how much Mark and I believe in the equality of all human beings, and how we feel so deeply that all people deserve dignity and love. My heart breaks to think of how much work there is for that here due to misunderstanding and past insults to their families. My heart aches for both Israel and Palestine, like two siblings who fight or try to talk, but are so hurt...But you must understand how much hope there is here, too. There is hope amongst the people here. I believe in the hearts and souls of all these people, Israeli and Palestinian, and I see the love and joy they have, and I hope for them...and in turn, for all the World.
So my bad dreams last night were because of this heartache. My dreams were filled with being chased, trying to protect my children from those who might hurt us, and running to find a safe place...doing anything I could to protect them...anything. The emotions of a mother's heart and soul are universal. If we are to heal this world, I believe it is the mothers who must demand it, guide it, understand it, and teach it to their children, so that anything short of peace is unacceptable on a deep, matrilineal level...instinctual. I passionately believe and teach that all deserve to live, to love, to learn, to share, and to speak their hearts with respect. It is the core of what drives me to be a teacher. There are many here who believe it, too. I will defend anyone's rights to these things, no matter their nationality. Do I sound idealistic? Only to cynics. Mrs. Lyndon Baines Johnson believed the same things. I met her, listened to her speak, have worked with her daughter Luci on many occasions in my teachings, and Mrs. Johnson never stopped believing and working for those things, despite others around her to tried to change that. She was powerful because of her clarity and deep love of others...and her commitment to equality and dignity for all have always inspired me.
I think Mrs. Johnson would have enjoyed the teaching, the interactions with others yesterday. At one point, when we returned from the university last evening, Aria (Mohamned's mother) took my hand and invited me over to sit with some friends of hers who had come for a short visit. The women were all sitting together in a circle, and more kept arriving. Some from Jordan, Syria, Jeruselem, Beit Sahour...and they all laughed and were so animated and so much fun to be with...they worked to include me and truly made me feel that I was one of them and welcome, despite the fact that I didn't understand a word they said. I watched the language of their faces and their bodies...I listened to the intonations and the lyrics of their voices...the pace of their words...They were wonderful. They would sometimes take my hand and talk with me or to the others about me, and a few words could be translated by Aria so that I could understand. They all invited me to their homes, to their work...many of the women work with little children as teachers, or they work with special needs people...giving them work to do so that they have a way to live. The women want to take me to the market and teach me to shop for spices and other things. They want to give me tea and show me their lives. Who cannot be touched by this love and openness??? How is it that anyone can ever say that God, the Universe, is not present in those moments, those people? I cannot believe how fortunate I am, and I understand why I am here, why my path has brought me here, a little better.
We are better people, better souls in this world, when we see God/the Universe in others and the beauty of the lives that exist here with us. We must reflect this beauty back at the world in order to change it, and we must do it in a myriad of ways so as to learn as well as teach. In this, we gain depth, dimension, and hope.
As flawed as this world can be, I love it. It pains me sometimes, and I beg for understanding and love in all we do. It's why we're here, I think...to learn those things.
I love you all very much, and I miss you beyond words. Truly.
V
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
And when the sun rises here...
We are going to bed soon...a very long, but soooo interesting day! I will tell you all about it tomorrow; I promise! We aren't scheduled to teach on Wednesdays, so we will write to you all in a more detailed manner tomorrow. There is much to tell...many cultural learning experiences today!
We love you all so much!
V : )
We love you all so much!
V : )
Monday, July 16, 2007
Holy Family, Holy Places...
Hello and Merhaba to all whom we love!
I am writing before going to bed, as it's almost 9:30 pm here, and even though we had a nap, it's still not enough yet. Mark isn't sleeping AT ALL. We try, but it's loud here, and the hours for others (culturally) are very different. The first call to prayer happens at 4:00 am, and we were awake for that. They are very comforting...almost like a lullaby, if that would work right now. We are hoping that, as days pass, we can adjust and get more rest. It's so hard to imagine that we would function for the next four weeks on this little sleep...It's like we have a newborn and we're not sleeping...It's that level of exhaustion.
The food is wonderful, and I've already asked Aria (the mother) to teach me to cook what she cooks. She is so sweet, and though we both have very broken forms of each other's languages, we are getting along very well. Her husband died fourteen years ago, when her youngest son was just a tiny baby, of a heart attack (in his sleep). She indicates that he was a stubborn man who wouldn't go to the dr.!) She and I share a love for peanut butter and chocolate, so who can't communicate over that?!! We're drinking A LOT of water, and today (don't faint), I drank two full glasses of regular COKE! I KNOW...and it was sooooo GOOD...No Dr. P here, as I suspected, but water, Coke, and the most wonderful hot tea you've ever tasted will get me through. It just floors me, though...in the heat of the day, they will serve scalding hot tea. Imagine! I drank it (once it had gotten to the point that I could hold the glass) and it was sooooooo good...mint sprigs in it, too. The coffee this morning would make inanimate objects stand on end with how strong it is, but that is a very, very good thing, as we've been so tired. It's also a good thing that we don't teach early in the morning, though it's hot when we have to go to the university.
Mohamned, Husam's younger brother, escorted us to the university today, showed us how to hail the taxis here (jump out in front of them, really...no, Moms, we're more careful than that!), and then we went to the Church of the Nativity...It was one of the most touching, amazing places I've ever been. I've seen the cathedrals in France (Paris, Amboise, Chambord, Chenenceau, etc.), but this was so profoundly different. To stand where they say Mary gave birth, then moved her son to another spot in the grotto a few feet away in order to keep him warm...the spot where the visitors lay down their gifts for the tiny infant King...and then the private tour from the caretaker through the prohibited areas in the catacombs under the Church of St. Catherine above us...We saw it all...The caretaker (Elias) is one in a line of men in his family who have cared for the church all their lives...grandfather, father, and now him. The stories of St. Catherine and her martyrdom, St. Joseph, and the Holy Family all came back to me from when I was a young girl and learning them from the Sisters at the Shrine of the True Cross school. I wonder what Sr. Bernadine, Sr. Marjorie, and Mother Superior would think of their headstrong little charge and the new life this is bringing to all they taught me (and probably thought I wasn't listening...)
I cried, and I do now. I wish you were all here and could feel it, too.
We have pictures and will work to show them to you soon. Computer use here at the house is limited, but we have the lab at the university, too. The emails from home are wonderful; please keep writing. We love you all so much.
Brittany, darling baby of mine, I miss you and ache for your voice/arms. Please look up the stories of the Nativity so that you can imagine what I've seen today. You are with me, my little angel, and I love you more than I can express, precious. Be good, helpful, and considerate. Write to your mommy and tell me what you are doing; I know you are having a wonderful time with your cousins! Smooches and love for you, Honey.
We miss you all and think of you every moment.
Now, if only I could wave a magic wand and help Mark to sleep...
Love, love, love, love, and love,
V : )
I am writing before going to bed, as it's almost 9:30 pm here, and even though we had a nap, it's still not enough yet. Mark isn't sleeping AT ALL. We try, but it's loud here, and the hours for others (culturally) are very different. The first call to prayer happens at 4:00 am, and we were awake for that. They are very comforting...almost like a lullaby, if that would work right now. We are hoping that, as days pass, we can adjust and get more rest. It's so hard to imagine that we would function for the next four weeks on this little sleep...It's like we have a newborn and we're not sleeping...It's that level of exhaustion.
The food is wonderful, and I've already asked Aria (the mother) to teach me to cook what she cooks. She is so sweet, and though we both have very broken forms of each other's languages, we are getting along very well. Her husband died fourteen years ago, when her youngest son was just a tiny baby, of a heart attack (in his sleep). She indicates that he was a stubborn man who wouldn't go to the dr.!) She and I share a love for peanut butter and chocolate, so who can't communicate over that?!! We're drinking A LOT of water, and today (don't faint), I drank two full glasses of regular COKE! I KNOW...and it was sooooo GOOD...No Dr. P here, as I suspected, but water, Coke, and the most wonderful hot tea you've ever tasted will get me through. It just floors me, though...in the heat of the day, they will serve scalding hot tea. Imagine! I drank it (once it had gotten to the point that I could hold the glass) and it was sooooooo good...mint sprigs in it, too. The coffee this morning would make inanimate objects stand on end with how strong it is, but that is a very, very good thing, as we've been so tired. It's also a good thing that we don't teach early in the morning, though it's hot when we have to go to the university.
Mohamned, Husam's younger brother, escorted us to the university today, showed us how to hail the taxis here (jump out in front of them, really...no, Moms, we're more careful than that!), and then we went to the Church of the Nativity...It was one of the most touching, amazing places I've ever been. I've seen the cathedrals in France (Paris, Amboise, Chambord, Chenenceau, etc.), but this was so profoundly different. To stand where they say Mary gave birth, then moved her son to another spot in the grotto a few feet away in order to keep him warm...the spot where the visitors lay down their gifts for the tiny infant King...and then the private tour from the caretaker through the prohibited areas in the catacombs under the Church of St. Catherine above us...We saw it all...The caretaker (Elias) is one in a line of men in his family who have cared for the church all their lives...grandfather, father, and now him. The stories of St. Catherine and her martyrdom, St. Joseph, and the Holy Family all came back to me from when I was a young girl and learning them from the Sisters at the Shrine of the True Cross school. I wonder what Sr. Bernadine, Sr. Marjorie, and Mother Superior would think of their headstrong little charge and the new life this is bringing to all they taught me (and probably thought I wasn't listening...)
I cried, and I do now. I wish you were all here and could feel it, too.
We have pictures and will work to show them to you soon. Computer use here at the house is limited, but we have the lab at the university, too. The emails from home are wonderful; please keep writing. We love you all so much.
Brittany, darling baby of mine, I miss you and ache for your voice/arms. Please look up the stories of the Nativity so that you can imagine what I've seen today. You are with me, my little angel, and I love you more than I can express, precious. Be good, helpful, and considerate. Write to your mommy and tell me what you are doing; I know you are having a wonderful time with your cousins! Smooches and love for you, Honey.
We miss you all and think of you every moment.
Now, if only I could wave a magic wand and help Mark to sleep...
Love, love, love, love, and love,
V : )
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