On Saturday, Fatima Abu Rumi, one of the four artists featured in the currrent exhibit, came to the gallery to touch up one of her paintings, of a scarf. Her paintings deal with issues of identity. Many are self portraits, depicting herself in traditional attire with headscarf, without, and more fully veiled. I asked her if she would pose for me between a couple of her pieces, a self portrait, and a portrait of her father as a saint.

Notice the Hello Kitty t-shirt!
Just another facet of her identity.

One week into my stay

Sunday evening

Suzi and I have been here a week now. I have been spending the major part of my days at the gallery, and there have been a couple of days when I have not ventured out at all. Part of it, I think, is the psychological effect of the roof deck just outside our door, with its amazing view of the city. After the roof guys have left it is ours alone, and even when they are there we often leave the door open.

Today, I spent more time outside the building than any day so far. First, I went for a long walk uphill on our street, just past the modern mosque. I took lots of photos along the way, mostly just trying to document scenes of the city, houses, businesses, etc. There was the car shop with the Toyota sign and I couple of totally dead cars sitting in front, one upside down. They reminded me of dead cockroaches, no doubt because of the huge dead cockroach in our bathroom this morning. More about that in a bit.

I wondered if they were saving the cars for parts, or had already stripped them of all possible parts, which is what it looked like. Why then would they keep them there. Then again, why not? One not so positive thing here is the amount of trash, all over. Everything from small plastic trash to sofas. Lilli says it’s a real problem, due to lack of money and infrastructure. I don’t think it’s limited just to Umm el Fahem. I noticed the trash in Jerusalem as well, although not in the same quantities.

Then there was the cleaners, where there was an elegant white dress hanging outside the doorway. The man inside saw me taking a picture and came out, perhaps,I thought, not wanting me to take a photo. Instead, he held out a tray filled with candies, offering them to me.

Everywhere I have gone, people have been friendly and welcoming. I know that there are hostilities here, that there are some people who resent the inroads that Said is attempting to make. But I have to say that, so far, I have not experienced an iota of unfriendliness. Many people smile, recognizing me as a stranger. I smile, too,and say saba alchayr, good morning, or masa alchayr, good evening, as the case may be. Numerous times, someone, often a child, says “shalom,” assuming, I guess that we are Jewish Israelis.

Suzi, who does speak Hebrew, which everyone here speaks, invites everyone she talks with to come check out the gallery. Wouldn’t it be great if some of them do.

Okay, back to the cockroach story. Suzi tells me this morning that she made a great effort, last night, to not scream and wake me up when a huge roach jumped or fell down from the ceiling in her bedroom and then scrambled off somewhere in the apartment. She found it and doused it heavily with Glade or whatever, and later found it belly up and dead in the bathroom.

My second trip out of the gallery today was to the market (souk) this afternoon. It is several kilometers from here, and uphill on the way back, when we would be loaded down. This is the vegetable market, not the kind of exotic souk the word conjures. But it was a delight to see all the produce. Even though we still have quite a few apples, avocados, and more from when we arrived, we were out of bananas and other fruits, on which we have now loaded up once again. Eiman and Rawan brought us to the market in Eiman’s car. Names in Arabic all have a meaning. Eiman means belief in God, and Rawan means paradise. Both of them are in my English class. Both are young, and both wear headscarves. Eiman wears a long traditional coat, but Rawan wears jeans and a blouse and stylish shoes.

My third trip out into town was earlier this evening, with Suzi. We walked down our street, one of the main drags, filled with shops and restaurants and various kinds of businesses, clothing stores, furniture stores. There are a couple of newish buildings of three or four stories, small malls. In one of them is a McDonalds and a Pizza Hut.
We are both amazed at some of the womens’ fashions, especially the evening gowns, which are quite revealing. As far as we understand from Lilli, women may wear these at segregated events, or perhaps with a covering, I have a hard time imagining any of the women I have met here wearing any of these dresses.

My classes are going quite well, although only three of the previous five of the staffers came this afternoon. I have decided to use the unfinished brochure as a jumping point for language practice. We take turns reading and discussing vocabulary, and then I ask them for suggestions about other points in the city that might be interesting to include.

Then, to end on a fun note, I take out my electronic 20 questions game, have them think of something (a projector) and then we answer the device’s questions. I am disappointed that the darn thing doesn’t get it right, it guesses “steel.” Oh, well, maybe the next time, and then they’ll be startled when it does. But it was a good exercise anyway, just having them understand and think about the questions.

Yesterday, Saturday, was the day that children come for art classes. Lilli had spoken to me even before I arrived about classes, and I am happy to do them. But since no one, that I am aware, had spoken to the families, I was a bit unclear on how this would pan out. I sat in on a little of each class ( there were three age levels) and at the end, to my surprise, about a dozen kids came, some of them with their parents. We did a “my name is ----, what is your name?” game,, then sang “Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” then I brought out the I Spy bingo game I’d picked up at a yard sale a few days before I left. The kids caught on quickly and really enjoyed it.

During the older kids’ later class, I asked if they would like to learn some more English, playing games. They were all interested, but they have a karate class after the art class. So I told them to think about if there was an afternoon after school that they would like to come. We’ll see.

Some of the art teachers here also teach art in local schools. Said’s wife is a school principal. Lilli’s son goes to a mixed Jewish-Arabic elementary school, one of only four in Israel. I am hoping, between all these contacts, to visit one or more schools during my stay.

This morning a group of reform Jews from Jerusalem came to visit the gallery. There were probably about thirty of them. One couple had been Lilli’s neighbors when she lived in Jerusalem. They had visited here before, and then wanted to bring the rest of their group. They all were English speaking and my impression was that most of them were originally American. I didn’t detect any Israeli accents in the ones I spoke with, although a couple had British accents. Said spoke to the group, quite eloquently, before they toured the gallery. I didn’t find out much about the group itself, and am curious. I will have to see if I can find out more.

I had been invited to the home of Amne, the poet who I think will be joining my other adult group, to spend the night tonight. But she called me this morning, sounding terrible, to say she was sick. Kamle later explained to me that she had been in a car accident, and had spent 10 months in the hospital.I hope she is better soon, for her sake, of course, and also for mine, because I am touched and intrigued by the idea of staying overnight with her family.

Local school group touring the gallery

No Cause for Alarm

Friday am

I am alone, as far as I know, in the gallery this morning. Suzi, my roommate for the first three weeks of my sojourn, has gone away overnight with friends. I awoke at 7:30, was enjoying a cup of tea, when the gallery alarm, a piercing high pitched noise, went off.

Several nights ago, our first or second night here, I was awakened, by Suzi actually, not the alarm, at about 1:30 am. I had been vaguely aware, in my sleep, of the sound, but had incorporated into my dream and hadn’t awakened. Suzi was somewhat panicky (oxymoron?) asking what we should do. As I remember, my somewhat facetious and groggy reply was to ignore it and maybe it would go away. I am thinking I may still have been partly asleep and only said it to myself. When she mentioned something about finding a weapon I guess I decided I’d better get up. We quickly decided to call Said. It took him about ten or fifteen minutes to arrive. I wasn’t worried about intruders but the noise certainly wasn’t pleasant. When Said and another man arrived, it took another twenty minutes or so to figure out how to turn the alarm off. And they showed us how to disable it if it happened again.

This am, when the alarm sounded again, I went to the box, hit the appropriate buttons, which turned off the alarm. For about a minute. Then it began again. After three or four rounds of this, I was thinking maybe it was time to call Said, when he actually called me. I don't know if he heard the sound, if someone called him,or what. The system is not connected to his home, or to the police. And after seven or eight episodes of quieting it for a minute or so, it turned off and has been ok since, several hours later.

I never did see Said. The roof guys are not here today. There is a separate entrance that leads to our apartment. I walked downstairs earlier, no lights were on, no sounds of anyone. I didn’t dare venture into the gallery itself for fear of triggering the alarm again, but don’t know at this point if it is even on.

I don’t think I had fully internalized that the gallery is closed today.Friday is the Muslim holiday. Saturday is the Jewish. So the weekend is actually Friday and Saturday. But I am content to hang out here, write, read, eat, probably go out for a walk sometime later in the day. It is so pleasant here on the roof deck, I don't have any inclination, after I finish writing, to do anything but read and probably take a nap.

I have not purchased any groceries since I arrived, except for a package of instant soup, in Jerusalem, when they told me at the hostel that nothing would be open on Saturday, Yom Kippur. (actually, I was fine, with a big hostel breakfast, and then a lamb sandwich is the old city later on in the day.) And a box of pasta, which I have not yet used, and a package of delicious chocolate hazelnut cookies, which I have been trying to eat in small quanties.

The first day Said treated us to a late lunch. Last night I was invited to Jamal’s house (more about that in a bit) and yesterday lunch we were told not to eat, that someone was bringing hummus. In between we have been eating some of the food they stocked the apt. with, pita with hummus and veggies, yogurt (or it may actually be what they call white cheese, which my guidebook describes as similar to yogurt) and fruit: bananas, grapes, apples, oranges, pomegranates. When Lilli drove us here from the train about 20 minutes away, we passed through fields and fields of pomegranates. And I’d had a glass of pomegranate juice in the old city in Jerusalem, fresh squeezed and delicious.

I’ve eaten the yogurt/white cheese first with bananas, then apples, and this morning with pomegranate. The pomegranate is both sweet and tart, in a way like cranberry juice, but without adding sugar. I liked both the way it looked and tasted with the white whatevery it is stuff. The juice kind of oozed in rivulets around it. Pomegranates are in right now in the US, the whole antioxidant thing, so maybe I am making myself very healthy while I antioxidate myself. They are so beautiful, and appealing in the way the seeds cling to the membrane. And it seems that just when I have reached the last of the seeds, another layer reveals itself.

Before I move beyond the topic of foods, I want to mention the olives we picked the other day, on our tour around the city with Said and Lilli. We were on the land of a friend of his, and it’s exactly the right time to harvest olives. So we each picked a bunch, and Said said he’d show us how to preserve them, in just water and salt, I believe. But he is always going in a million different directions, and we haven’t gotten around to the olives yet.

I keep getting requests from more people to do English classes or tutoring. So far, I have met with the staff group, another group of women, with Jamal’s family, and with Halima, one of the art teachers, individually.

We were supposed to have the second session of the staff group yesterday, but when I arrived they were all sitting in Kalme’s office eating hummus and French fries! I asked when they wanted to start, especially since I was scheduled to go to Jamal’s an hour later. They indicated there was a group using the space we’d used for the previous session. True, but there are plenty of other spaces in the gallery we could have used.

I don’t think they were trying to get out of meeting, they had been extremely enthusiastic and asked for a third weekly session after the first. I think it just part of that "manana" attitude (I should look up the word in Arabic) that seems to prevail here. Lilli, on introducing us to the gallery and city, had said, it drives her crazy that people are inefficient and unorganized, it's just part of the culture. I had thought she' been about to warn us that people weren't welcoming to foreigners, or something like that. Lilli herself it very directed and energetic. Me, I'm kind of a manana person myself.

So, hearing music from across the hall, I asked my hummus and fries eating supposed class what the group in the meeting room was. Not children, they said, indicating taller, so I assumed teenagers. And the music sounded like something teens might dance to. But when I went across the hall, it was actually a group of disabled adults, perhaps 20 of them, who were dancing, in traditional and in their own individual style, and having a great time. Some clearly had Down Syndrome or other disabilities, in other cases I really wasn’t sure if an individual was a client or staff. Suzi and I and the staff joined in, first clapping, then dancing. It was truly wonderful. I think this is one of many groups Said incorporates into the gallery, in different ways.

Yesterday morning I was scheduled to meet with the group of women who are friends of Kalme. At the ageeed to time, just Kalme and one other woman were there. Zakia is Kamle’s friend, best friend they said at first, but then it was clear that there was another word, that they couldn’t describe in English. So I asked them to find it out for next time.I was very impressed with Zakia, she seems strong and motivated and clear on what she wants. She speaks quite decent English, wants to improve her grammar. I said I don’t teach grammar directly, but would be happy to correct her on tenses, usage, etc. as she spoke, and in writing if she wanted me to give her some writing assignments. She came up with the idea, that each of them (by now a third woman had joined us) should find an article in English, read it, and then present it to the rest of us. It will be interesting to see who follows through. Zakia has studied English on her own, and also has had foreign students live with her who are studying Arabic who have helped her with her English.

When I mentioned the idea of hosting day visitors for a meal (one of my ideas in encouraging visitors to the city and gallery) Zakia said quite clearly that she is not interested in that! A woman who knows what she wants.

The third woman, Amne, was introduced to me by Said as a poet whose poems are published regularly in the paper. She is also a teacher of Arabic, and is working on her Master’s in Arabic studies. She invited me to her house, to stay overnight if I would like. Once again, I am overwhelmed by people’s hospitality.

Kamle’s husband owns a restaurant, and she has her own clothing shop, in addition to working, full time as far as I can tell, for the gallery. She tells me there were a couple of others who planned to come today. And she is sure there will be more once word gets out. I tell them that whatever works out is fine with me, that I think if there are more than six or eight they won’t have as much chance to converse, but I will leave it up to Kamle.

I know I’d mentioned before the roof guys and that they were people doing community service for minor violations. I knew Jamal was part of that group, but because of his demeanor and my general impression, I was guessing he was their coordinator. In fact, though, as he explained to me as we drove to his house, he was one of the people fulfilling their community service. His transgression, driving without a license, twice. ( he assured me he had one now!) Didn’t quite understand the circumstances, but he said he had not taken driving lessons, didn’t get a license, and just drove. He also said if he were to be caught a third time, he would go to jail.

We arrive at Jamal’s, a very large and modern house. He has told me that this is a very new neighborhood, built within the last five years. One of his brothers (there are 10, plus 5 sisters) lives next door. We spend the next hour or two conversing on the patio, with the children coming and going. At one point I notice the 4 year old isn’t there, and ask Hanan, Jamal’s wife, where he’s gone. She answers that he is out riding his bike. I tell her how that wouldn’t happen in most US neighborhoods, and she says that she’s read that. Hanan and Jamal are both very open minded and interesting to talk with. She says to me, he is a very good husband. She mentions that he is always encouraging her to get further education, etc. She is a speech therapist. Jamal is in the meat importing business, selling to both Muslim and Jewish businesses throughout Israel. They seem to be doing well financially. When we get into the car later, Hanan mentions that it is brand new, an MG, one of only ten in Israel right now, although they will now be importing more.She is not in any way bragging, just wondering if they are popular in the US.

We sit around their patio table, first drinking lemonade with fresh mint, then mint tea. And eating a variety of candies and dried fruit. I take out my visual dicitionary and we find the words for kiwis, raspberries, pineapple, etc. Then I bring out my electronic 20 question game, a last minute thought on my part to bring on the trip, and see if it can guess “kiwi” which it indeed does.

Later, after lots of discussion about life and values here, in the US, etc. Hanan takes me and the children to eat, at a restaurant owned by one of Jamal’s brothers.

The choice is falafel, which they prounouce felefel, or schwarma, shaved lamb, in either pita or a baguette( actually more like a sub.) then you can add on as much as you want of at least a dozen different salads and sauces. And they provide plates so you can take more than will fit on your sandwich.

I ask if it’s ok to take a picture of the beautiful buffet, and Jamal’s brother says sure, but he wants to freshen up the food first. He brings out more of everything and creates aesthetic mounds of the salads.

I am getting hungry describing this, will have to stop now and have some lunch.

One last note : I do plan to publish some photos here soon, as soon as I figure out how. To see a few dozen, check out my fb page.

Four little boys, Yom Kippur, no traffic on the streets

Masa alchayr (good evening) from Umm el Fahem

Wednesday,my fourth day here:

I am overwhelmed with the enthusiasm and friendliness of people here. And not only the gallery staff. The people we meet on the street, in shops, are also friendly and curious. We mention the gallery, or Said’s name, and they immediately understand why we are here. Although this city is a center of fundamentalist politics, I would never guess so from the atmosphere. There are apparently some who are at odds with what Said and the gallery do here, but on the other hand he is from a renowned and well respected family. He is also a retired police officer, who worked with young adults, as I understand. Lilli thinks it is largely because of his background that he has been able to accomplish so much here. And he has bigger plans still. The gallery is in the process of becoming a museum, and is forming a “friends of”organization with the pro bono help of a New York law firm, and also of a New York producer named Manny Azenberg, who has produced most of Neil Simon’s plays and others, and who brings a group of people to visit Israel each year.

So this modest and mild mannered man, who is low key in temperament, at least to my observation, has been able to work wonders here with the gallery, and hopefully more to come. The plans are drawn, there are architect’s models on display, the city has donated the land.

Here are some of the events and meetings that are scheduled just in the next few weeks:

A woman from Sotheby’s and several other curators will be visiting.

A group of NGO’s will be meeting here with the Alliance for Middle East Peace to discuss coordinating together.

A group of reform Jews from Jerusalem is coming to visit this Sunday.

The gallery is very interested in encouraging more people to visit, and especially foreign visitors. They do already get quite a number of Jewish visitors, but would like to see more. This is something I would very much like to work on. A previous volunteer from England put together a very nice brochure last year, but they never printed it. I would like to bring it up to date, maybe encourage a day trip that would include the gallery, lunch, maybe even a visit to someone’s home. I am hoping that the people who organize the trips from the Abraham Hotel might be interested. I am not exactly sure of the relationship between them, the hotel, and GoEco, but have already begun to inquire.

I have begun my English groups, and they have gone really well so far. I have a group of five staff people who I met with yesterday. They are particularly interested in practicing conversation, and especially around subjects like art and history of the city. I am planning to use the unfinished brochure as the basis for a lesson tomorrow, having them read and understand it, and also help me with additional information about the city. We will be meeting three times a week. It was twice, but after the first session they said they preferred three times.

I have another group, friends of Camle, Said’s administrative assistant, who are not part of the gallery staff, but who also want to learn more English. Camle plans to be in both groups(although I think she slept through yesterday’s!)

I am scheduled to meet with two different age groups of kids on Saturdays, when they have art classes here.

One worker here, Jamal, has asked me to come to his house on Thursday afternoons. At first it was to work with his 10 and 11 year olds. Now it seems like he wants me to include the 3 and 4 year olds too. He has also invited me to dinner, which I am really looking forward to.

Jamal is one of a group of workers who I have taken to thinking of as the roof guys, because they hang out on the roof deck outside of our apartment when they aren’t busy. From what I understand, they are people doing community work because they have some kind of record, for what, I don’t know, but nothing major. They are as kind and friendly as everyone else, and have started bringing us cups of coffee every morning. Then we get offered more when we get downstairs to the gallery.

When I told one of the other staff that I would be tutoring Jamal’s children, she said, oh, Jamal, and then pointed up, as if toward the roof. I guess she thinks of them as the roof guys, too.

This morning, one of the art teachers, Halima, indicated in very rudimentary English that she would like to learn more English, too, but is only here part time, and not during the hours the other staff meet with me. So it seems we are going to meet twice a week also, after she works with the school groups that visit in the morning.

Yesterday, I watched her and the other teachers with a group of adorable 5 year olds. One of the current exhibits is by the artist Fatma Abu Rumi, who deals with issues of identity. She’s done self portraits in various kinds of attire. There are other pieces that use her mother’s hair, a portrait of her father wearing a veil, etc. When I came into the gallery, they were playing a game where one kid left the room, one kid was hidden under a veil,, then the other one came back and had to guess who was hidden. It was very powerful, in a room where they were surrounded by portraits of a woman veiled, unveiled, partly veiled. It seemed like such a great idea for a game, in any case, and I wasn’t entirely sure it was intentional because of the exhibit. But it was, Halima explained to me today in her halting English, and for the next exhibit the activities will be different. They had also, according to Halima, had the children all just play with veils before the game.

In one corner of the exhibit was an actual headscarf, just hanging on a hook. As I raised my camera to take a picture of it together with some of the other artworks, it suddenly fell onto the floor. How strange.

Halima does wear a headscarf herself, as do probably more than half the women staffers. It doesn’t seem particularly related to age, some of the younger women do, some of the older ones dont' . And some wear traditional clothing also, while others wear headscarves with casual modern clothes. The gallery, though, may not be particularly representative of the whole community. I hope I have a chance to discuss some of their thoughts and values at some point. As they seem quite open, I imagine I will.

Time to go do some lesson planning!

And on to Umm el Fahem

Up early to catch the tram, right outside the door, to the bus to Tel Aviv, to the train to Binyamina, where Lilli came to pick up me and Suzi, the other volunteer who will be spending the first three weeks of my stay.

The trip was pretty uneventful, except that I had counted the tram stops wrong, got off one too early, had to wait 10 minutes for the next. The tram is beautiful, brand new, and free. But, according to Sofia, my “orienter” people don’t like it, because it took too long to construct and the construction was very disruptive, and because it only serves a certain small area( I am guessing a more well off area). That may be, according to Sofia, why they have made it free, to mollify people.

Lilli drove us the 20 or so minutes here to Umm el Fahem, gave us a quick drive around town, then brought us to the gallery and to our apartment, which is on the upper level of the gallery. It’s quite nice. There are two bedrooms, each with two beds, a small kitchen/dining room, and bathroom with shower. It’s air conditioned, great because it has been unusually hot. Best of all, the apt opens onto the roof, which at least at the moment, is also a sculpture gallery, part of the current exhibit. And the views of the city are wonderful, especially in tandem with the sculptures.

Said, the gallery founder and director, had had the fridge stocked for us; lettuce, avocados, peppers, scallions, tomatoes, limes, yogurt, milk, cheese, more pita bread than we can eat in a week, and left bowls of fruit on the table – apples, much tinier than the ones at home, huge pomegranates, bananas, oranges, grapes.

Yesterday, they treated us to lunch, which is the big meal here. I ordered a plate of spicy fish in a delicious sauce, and there was a buffet salad table. The owner said he’d bring over the salads, and brought us huge bowls to share, of rice, hummus, tahini, eggplant salad, tabouli, a cuke and tomato salad, pickles, I probably missed one or two. I’m afraid we left half of it. I hope someone ate it.

I will stop here, resume tomorrow to describe our longer drive around the city today, and our meeting to discuss all the things we will be doing while we are here.