The family that was supposed to pick me up this afternoon did not show up. (Does anyone see a theme here?!)
I waited a half hour, as people are not very timely here, and then called them. The woman was surprised, said she had told Kamle they had to reschedule. Kamle never mentioned it to me. Kamle is a lovely, but not very organized person. Then again, Said can be absent minded himself.
I don’t have a grasp on how much it is cultural, how much endemic to this particular organization. I want to discuss this with Lilli, hope I will have the opportunity to do so soon. But we haven’t seen much of her lately. First it was Sukkot, which lasted several days. Then she was sick for a day or two. She is going on vacation in a couple of days! And she only works here part time. I hope to catch her for some time tomorrow. But it is Suzi’s last few days here, and tomorrow is the last time Suzi and Lilli will see one another. So I feel like I should let Suzi have priority in discussing her projects with Lilli, since I will still have another three weeks after Suzi is gone.
The class also, of course, did not work out as planned, but actually worked out quite well. Eiman and Layla said they wanted to continue, but not today, because they had too much work to do. But Mohammed, who was very frustrated and disappointed when the group didn’t meet last time, was more than eager to meet with me individually. He has been working, with another man, on a video project, which I didn’t know anything about. He began to explain. The man he’s working with is Said’s brother, also an artist. He is apparently doing a performance piece in Haifa in a couple of days. The video is a part of that. And if I understand Mohammed correctly, it is a protest piece, against the inequities suffered by Arab Israelis. So now, I am hoping to go to Haifa on Thursday.
Next, Mohammed and I went to the Memories of Place exhibit, which is a part of the archives project, and the permanent part of the gallery exhibits. He is so eager to practice English, and began to talk to me as if he were guiding a group through the exhibit. We spent an hour or so, discussing photos and looking up words. It was very satisfying for both of us. I expect we will be doing this as many times as possible over the next few weeks. It also falls in with Lilli’s desire to have me work on English translations for the exhibit.
Rawan, as it turns out, will be leaving soon, to go to school in Jerusalem. She had finished high school, and intended to study nursing. The nursing programs don’t accept students until they are 19 or 20. But Rawan has now decided that she wants to study special education, and possibly art therapy. She apparently applied, late, last week, had an interview today, and expects to move to Jerusalem next week. I will miss her, and am hoping she will be coming home on the weekends, since everyone seems to. It is a big deal for a young person to move away from home, even to go to school. She is excited, but nervous, especially about with whom she will be rooming. I said that is perfectly natural, it’s the same with college students in the U.S. Suzi remarked, to me, not to Rawan, that she thinks she would do fine with another Arab student, or with an observant Jew(!) but not with a secular person.
I don’t think I described Jamal’s goodbye party. It was a barbeque, with a grill brought up to the roof. We had steaks,, and the requisite eight or ten different salads. The food was all from Jamal’s brother’s restaurant. Not the one they had taken me to; a different brother! After the meal, there were speeches made, by Jamal, another worker who had also completed his community service recently, by Said, and by a police officer who was the supervisor for the community service workers, in 34 different locations around the area. It was strange having a police officer at our party when everyone had been demonstrating against the police the day before. But this was another branch of service, and also, this officer was an Arab. Said presented the departing workers and the police officer with bouquets of flowers, and the two workers with Korans. I will miss having Jamal around. Hopefully he will come to visit, and also continue to invite me to his home.
Yesterday, Suzi and I headed in to Tel Aviv for the day, with Said, who was going in for a meeting with the organization who is doing the fundraising for the Museum they are planning.
Said dropped us off at a bus stop at the edge of the city. We took the bus to the last stop, the Carmel Market, where we roamed around admiring produce and taking pictures. And where I finally found FIGS! And bought a huge bagful of them. They don’t seem to sell things in small quantities here So I have been eating figs in large quantities since.
At one point, Suzi picked up a piece of fruit, and the stall owner chastised her for touching it. We had done the same thing at other markets in Umm el Fahen, and nobody minded. And why couldn’t he have just said something, not in a hostile way? I don’t know if he was Jewish or Arab, ( I can’t tell when people are speaking Hebrew or Arabic, they both have, to my ear, similar guttural sounds,)was just a crabby person, or was just having a bad day. But he was the first unfriendly person I have met in the country.
We walked through other parts of the market and the surrounding area, where there were multiple fabric shops, and button and ribbon shops, and then continued to walk through other areas that were a bit more upscale, toward the shopping mall where we were to meet Said.
The meeting went longer than expected. I am really curious to get Lilli’s perspective tomorrow. We had about an hour to kill at the mall, the biggest mall in Israel, according to Rawan, who loves going there. It was not much different from any other mall, and we couldn’t seem to find anything that was Israeli made, or that we would want to purchase as a gift. Rawan says she especially likes a store there that carries natural cosmetics, their only store in Israel. As Suzi mentioned (again, to me, not to Rawan) it is fascinating to observe the young women’s interest in fashion and cosmetics, combined with their custom of covering their heads.
I would consider returning to Tel Aviv, if I have the time, but have to say I was a little underwhelmed by what I saw. It is possible that the parts I saw were not the most interesting areas, although one area we strolled through had a kind of hip ambience. It sounds as though the port area, Jaffa, is an appealing place.
I am trying to just take things just as they happen, certainly a necessity as far as classes, invitations, and other kinds of plans. I know I will go to Haifa, to visit 93 year old Hedvig, who has invited me to stay with her. And I do have nearly a week when the gallery is closed in a couple of weeks, to take an extended trip. I would like to visit Nazareth, and the Dead Sea, and Masada, and spend some more time in Jerusalem. We shall see. I would certainly like to get some more of a Jewish perspective on the country.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
"I hate English, and she hates me!"
Sunday
I am awaiting my 3 pm class of staffers, which is actually my 4pm class. We moved it up when I found out that that Kamle had arranged for me to visit overnight at someone’s house. Kamle, who I’d just been eating with a few minutes before, never mentioned it to me. Yesterday, a similar thing happened. We found out, last minute, that the group we were expecting at 1:30 pm had been changed to 3pm. Suzi had been planning to give her second presentation, about her art, at 2pm, so that plan got scuttled.
I am assuming the woman is the same person who’d invited me to stay over last week, then cancelled because she was sick. We’ll see. I hated the idea of cancelling the staff class, because it’s been so on again/off again. And yet they do seem to want to do it.
Yesterday a bunch of bigwigs from the art world in the US visited, brought on an art tour by a group called Artis (ie art Israel) that promotes Israeli art and artists abroad. The group included a bunch of curators, the director of the Des Moines Art Museum, a couple of arts writers. One woman seemed particularly moved, and when she and Suzi started chatting they discovered they were practically neighbors, living several blocks from each other on the Upper West Side in NYC. She indicated real interest in supporting efforts to raise funds for the greatly expanded Museum Said has planned. She is the former head of Aperture, the renowned photography foundation and magazine, founded in the 1950’s by Ansel Adams, Dorothea Lange, and others to promote the art of photography. Ellen seemed very warm and personable, and genuinely interested in the gallery and its mission. So it will be interesting to see where that goes.
Later:
I did spent Sunday evening at a family’s home, as anticipated. It wasn’t, however, the family I had expected. I had I assumed it was Amne, the woman who’d invited me a week ago and then had to cancel. It was, however, an entirely different family.
This family is also friends of Kamle. The father, Amal, is a cell phone salesman. His wife, Waseem, does laser hair removal. When I asked how they knew Kamle, Amal explained that Kamle was a customer of Waseem’s. Oh, and by the way, when I later told Kamle that I was confused, had she told me that they’d invited me , Kamle just shrugged and smiled and said she’d forgotten.
Amal and Waseem and their chidren, 22 year old Noor and 16 year old Ahmed, were, as everyone has been here, warm and delightful. Noor is an English teacher, in Beer Sheva, a 2 hour bus trip away, which she makes every day. Ahmed was at first resistant to trying to speak to me in English, which his parents were clearly urging him to do. I just smiled at him, indicating, I hoped, that parents were like that. But when his dad went out to pick up Noor, and his mom was in the kitchen, he suddenly, using his electronic dictionary, starting asking me questions. He did say to me that he hated English, and she hated him. But he was talking to me! By a couple of hours later, he was telling me that English was beautiful, but hard, and that I was a good teacher. He also told me all about his girlfriend.
Amal told me that Ahmed had had a terrible English teacher the year before, and he thought that was why Ahmed was so resistant to English. I couldn’t help thinking that the problem was partly that his parents pushed him too much, which he was also clearly resistant too. Ahmed was an entirely appealing young man, with a spiky hair style and a zany way of loping around the house with a grin on his face, which I couldn’t begin to describe. His sister was very sweet. When I told them I couldn’t stay over (Said was picking us up at 8am the next morning to go to Tel Aviv) they all insisted I come back another time, which I certainly hope to do.
Waseem, the mom, by the way, speaks no English, but was totally involved in, even prompting, much of our conversation. She asked me a lot of questions, which her family translated, and it was she who had originally invited me. She was gregarious, similar to Kamle, and I could see how they would be friends. She also prepared what was, in my mind, a feast, which they seemed to regard as a light meal. There was delicious lentil soup, made with red lentils. They seemed surprised that I make brown lentil soup, which they do use, but not in soups.
Then there was the usual array of salads, plus rice with almonds, and a meat and vegetable stew.
Followed, of course, by multiple kinds of sweets and fruits, including a kind of grapefruit-like fruit, but larger, and drier, for which we couldn’t find an English name. Waseem gave me the two pomegranates that we didn’t eat to take home. They are sitting in a fruit bowl on the table with the figs. I am overwhelmed with fruit and with friendship.
Twenty questions, my little electronic device, was a great success. It definitely was a big factor in encouraging Ahmed to talk. Waseem and Amal wanted to know where they could get one. Which gave me the idea that I could send them one later on, or maybe two, one for Amal, and one for Noor to use with her students .I brought several gifts with me from home, Boston potholders and chocolate covered cranberries. But there are so many people I want to give gifts to.
Before we left, for Amal to bring me back here ( they live in a small town of 1000 about 20 minutes away from Umm el Fahem) the conversation between Waseem and Noor turned somewhat contentious. Since they didn’t seem to have any shyness about arguing in front of me, I decided to ask Amal, in the car afterwards, what the discussion had been about. He explained that Noor had asked for money for transportation to school. Waseem was angry because Noor earns a salary and should be responsible for her own transportation. But Noor said she had no money in her bank account, and they didn’t understand what she had spent it on. Amal did indicate that Noor liked expensive clothes.
I will stop now, because, in theory, my staff English class is supposed to start in a few minutes. That, though, has been so on and off that it will not surprise me if that doesn’t happen. I do also have an invitation from another family to visit their house this evening. This is a family whose son and daughter are in my Saturday English class. I have more hope that they will actually show as planned, but we shall see.
When I return, from whatever events actually take place, to the gallery and to the blog, I will catch up on the goodbye party a couple of days ago for Jamal, Suzi and my visit to Tel Aviv yesterday, and our visit this morning to a nearby day care center.
I am awaiting my 3 pm class of staffers, which is actually my 4pm class. We moved it up when I found out that that Kamle had arranged for me to visit overnight at someone’s house. Kamle, who I’d just been eating with a few minutes before, never mentioned it to me. Yesterday, a similar thing happened. We found out, last minute, that the group we were expecting at 1:30 pm had been changed to 3pm. Suzi had been planning to give her second presentation, about her art, at 2pm, so that plan got scuttled.
I am assuming the woman is the same person who’d invited me to stay over last week, then cancelled because she was sick. We’ll see. I hated the idea of cancelling the staff class, because it’s been so on again/off again. And yet they do seem to want to do it.
Yesterday a bunch of bigwigs from the art world in the US visited, brought on an art tour by a group called Artis (ie art Israel) that promotes Israeli art and artists abroad. The group included a bunch of curators, the director of the Des Moines Art Museum, a couple of arts writers. One woman seemed particularly moved, and when she and Suzi started chatting they discovered they were practically neighbors, living several blocks from each other on the Upper West Side in NYC. She indicated real interest in supporting efforts to raise funds for the greatly expanded Museum Said has planned. She is the former head of Aperture, the renowned photography foundation and magazine, founded in the 1950’s by Ansel Adams, Dorothea Lange, and others to promote the art of photography. Ellen seemed very warm and personable, and genuinely interested in the gallery and its mission. So it will be interesting to see where that goes.
Later:
I did spent Sunday evening at a family’s home, as anticipated. It wasn’t, however, the family I had expected. I had I assumed it was Amne, the woman who’d invited me a week ago and then had to cancel. It was, however, an entirely different family.
This family is also friends of Kamle. The father, Amal, is a cell phone salesman. His wife, Waseem, does laser hair removal. When I asked how they knew Kamle, Amal explained that Kamle was a customer of Waseem’s. Oh, and by the way, when I later told Kamle that I was confused, had she told me that they’d invited me , Kamle just shrugged and smiled and said she’d forgotten.
Amal and Waseem and their chidren, 22 year old Noor and 16 year old Ahmed, were, as everyone has been here, warm and delightful. Noor is an English teacher, in Beer Sheva, a 2 hour bus trip away, which she makes every day. Ahmed was at first resistant to trying to speak to me in English, which his parents were clearly urging him to do. I just smiled at him, indicating, I hoped, that parents were like that. But when his dad went out to pick up Noor, and his mom was in the kitchen, he suddenly, using his electronic dictionary, starting asking me questions. He did say to me that he hated English, and she hated him. But he was talking to me! By a couple of hours later, he was telling me that English was beautiful, but hard, and that I was a good teacher. He also told me all about his girlfriend.
Amal told me that Ahmed had had a terrible English teacher the year before, and he thought that was why Ahmed was so resistant to English. I couldn’t help thinking that the problem was partly that his parents pushed him too much, which he was also clearly resistant too. Ahmed was an entirely appealing young man, with a spiky hair style and a zany way of loping around the house with a grin on his face, which I couldn’t begin to describe. His sister was very sweet. When I told them I couldn’t stay over (Said was picking us up at 8am the next morning to go to Tel Aviv) they all insisted I come back another time, which I certainly hope to do.
Waseem, the mom, by the way, speaks no English, but was totally involved in, even prompting, much of our conversation. She asked me a lot of questions, which her family translated, and it was she who had originally invited me. She was gregarious, similar to Kamle, and I could see how they would be friends. She also prepared what was, in my mind, a feast, which they seemed to regard as a light meal. There was delicious lentil soup, made with red lentils. They seemed surprised that I make brown lentil soup, which they do use, but not in soups.
Then there was the usual array of salads, plus rice with almonds, and a meat and vegetable stew.
Followed, of course, by multiple kinds of sweets and fruits, including a kind of grapefruit-like fruit, but larger, and drier, for which we couldn’t find an English name. Waseem gave me the two pomegranates that we didn’t eat to take home. They are sitting in a fruit bowl on the table with the figs. I am overwhelmed with fruit and with friendship.
Twenty questions, my little electronic device, was a great success. It definitely was a big factor in encouraging Ahmed to talk. Waseem and Amal wanted to know where they could get one. Which gave me the idea that I could send them one later on, or maybe two, one for Amal, and one for Noor to use with her students .I brought several gifts with me from home, Boston potholders and chocolate covered cranberries. But there are so many people I want to give gifts to.
Before we left, for Amal to bring me back here ( they live in a small town of 1000 about 20 minutes away from Umm el Fahem) the conversation between Waseem and Noor turned somewhat contentious. Since they didn’t seem to have any shyness about arguing in front of me, I decided to ask Amal, in the car afterwards, what the discussion had been about. He explained that Noor had asked for money for transportation to school. Waseem was angry because Noor earns a salary and should be responsible for her own transportation. But Noor said she had no money in her bank account, and they didn’t understand what she had spent it on. Amal did indicate that Noor liked expensive clothes.
I will stop now, because, in theory, my staff English class is supposed to start in a few minutes. That, though, has been so on and off that it will not surprise me if that doesn’t happen. I do also have an invitation from another family to visit their house this evening. This is a family whose son and daughter are in my Saturday English class. I have more hope that they will actually show as planned, but we shall see.
When I return, from whatever events actually take place, to the gallery and to the blog, I will catch up on the goodbye party a couple of days ago for Jamal, Suzi and my visit to Tel Aviv yesterday, and our visit this morning to a nearby day care center.
Some other perspectives on Umm el Fahem
The city of Umm el Fahem, as I’ve mentioned before, is known as a hotbed of Muslim anti-government political activity. There have been demonstrations here in the past, and riots at least once. I was hesitant, before I came here, to mention where I was going, to some people I know of (through the Czernowitz network*, I know them online, not personally) I would love to meet some of them, but wondered if they would be uncomfortable knowing I was coming here. I asked some folks I do know personally if they could suggest any of the Israeli Czernowitzers who might be ok with what I was doing. Someone mentioned Hedvig, the 93 year old “grande dame” of the group, as someone who would be welcoming. I did contact her, and she has invited me to come visit her in Haifa, and stay overnight. What hospitality, toward someone she doesn’t even know.
On the other hand, I have tried to contact cousins who live here, who lived in the US many years ago, and whom I knew as a child. Granted, I had not been in touch with them for 40 years, until recently, when we spoke on the phone, before I knew I was coming here. They have not answered several emails, nor has their daughter, who lives in the U.S. Perhaps it should have been a clue, when during our first conversation in 40 years, she asked right away if my husband was Jewish. To be fair, when I said he was not, she said the important thing was that he was a good man.
I am assuming that they are very uncomfortable with the fact that I am here. I can’t judge them, as someone who has never lived in Israel and could not possibly have the perspective that they do. But I am saddened, especially that they seem uncomfortable even being in touch with me.
Suzi has relatives here, and many friends. She has lived and gone to school here, years ago, and has maintained her relationships with several people. One is now the mayor of Haifa, who sounds to be very liberal in his politics. He has mandated studying Arabic for all students, as one example. Her friends’ politics are quite leftist. Some are involved with organizations that work toward establishing bonds between the Jewish and Arab populations.
Her cousins, though, with whom she visited yesterday, were afraid of the idea of coming here, even briefly. They wanted her to meet the cousin who picked her up at the junction, a fifteen or twenty minute walk from the gallery. The cousin did wind up driving her back to the door when they drove back here, at night. Hopefully the fact that there weren’t any marauding bands in the street eased his worries a bit, and maybe even will make some small inroads in his family’s thinking.
*Czernowitz is the city in Ukraine my grandmother is from, where I worked on the neglected cemetery where mygreat grandparents are buried. Another incredible experience. If interested, you can track back in the blog to 2008.
On the other hand, I have tried to contact cousins who live here, who lived in the US many years ago, and whom I knew as a child. Granted, I had not been in touch with them for 40 years, until recently, when we spoke on the phone, before I knew I was coming here. They have not answered several emails, nor has their daughter, who lives in the U.S. Perhaps it should have been a clue, when during our first conversation in 40 years, she asked right away if my husband was Jewish. To be fair, when I said he was not, she said the important thing was that he was a good man.
I am assuming that they are very uncomfortable with the fact that I am here. I can’t judge them, as someone who has never lived in Israel and could not possibly have the perspective that they do. But I am saddened, especially that they seem uncomfortable even being in touch with me.
Suzi has relatives here, and many friends. She has lived and gone to school here, years ago, and has maintained her relationships with several people. One is now the mayor of Haifa, who sounds to be very liberal in his politics. He has mandated studying Arabic for all students, as one example. Her friends’ politics are quite leftist. Some are involved with organizations that work toward establishing bonds between the Jewish and Arab populations.
Her cousins, though, with whom she visited yesterday, were afraid of the idea of coming here, even briefly. They wanted her to meet the cousin who picked her up at the junction, a fifteen or twenty minute walk from the gallery. The cousin did wind up driving her back to the door when they drove back here, at night. Hopefully the fact that there weren’t any marauding bands in the street eased his worries a bit, and maybe even will make some small inroads in his family’s thinking.
*Czernowitz is the city in Ukraine my grandmother is from, where I worked on the neglected cemetery where mygreat grandparents are buried. Another incredible experience. If interested, you can track back in the blog to 2008.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
My fifteen minutes?
Here is some Arabic coverage of the march I participated in yesterday. I thought I was joking when I said maybe my photo would be in the paper today. Well....
Check out the link below and scroll about 2/3 of the way down.
http://www.panet.co.il/online/articles/1/2/S-466582,1,2.html
Check out the link below and scroll about 2/3 of the way down.
http://www.panet.co.il/online/articles/1/2/S-466582,1,2.html
Breakfast, a demonstration, and Armageddon
Friday evening
I am catching up on world news, trying to catch up on local news. The triple murders, and the prison release, merit only a brief mention in the English language newspapers. I would like to know more, still hope to have the chance to discuss things with Said and Sihan, and also with Lilli, when she returns on Sunday. For her perspective as a Jew, but also as a very broadminded person, obviously, as she is working at the gallery, and certainly supports Arab rights.
What I do see, in the international news, is mention of the crazy preacher who predicted the Apocalypse to occur some months ago `. He has now recalculated it to occur – TODAY! This is particularly interesting to me because here in Umm el Fahem, I am only a short distance from the town of Bar Megiddo, known in Hebrew as …..you guessed it, Armageddon! I had been thinking already it might be interesting to go there, described by my Lonely Planet guidebook as a popular attraction for doomsday watchers as well as the just plain curious. And a woman I met yesterday who lives there says that it’s a very interesting archeological site. So if I rush out right now, maybe I can make it before midnight. I’ve still got a few hours. But wait, if he was calculating American time, I’ve got about 10 hours.
Yesterday evening did not pan out as planned, a not unusual state of affairs. There was a group of high school students fulfilling their 200 hour community service commitment, by working on a photography project with the artist whose photos are currently on exhibit here. .The group uses the same large meeting room that we have been using. So apparent.ly we couldn’t meet. But we had met a few days back in the office so Layla could cover the front desk.
And, as I’ve said before, there are other rooms available too. Then, more disappointingly,, Jamal didn’t come to pick me up at 4pm. I know he has my phone number, and I had his wife’s cell #, too, but didn’t feel like pursuing. it. I think his hours of community service to the gallery may be over, too. I do hope I get to see him, and his family, again. I believe that he registered his children in the art classes here after I mentioned it last week. So perhaps I will see them tomorrow.
This morning, Said picked us up, as planned, and brought us to his house for breakfast. He was wearing a t shirt and crocs! Certainly more informal than his daily attire at the gallery. (not that he dresses terribly formally, no jacket and tie, but no t shirt and crocs, either. Sihan had no head scarf on. Women often don’t wear them at home. But their daughter Rawan and Rawan’s friend were wearing them.
First it was just Sihan, Suzi, and myself eating breakfast, which Said cooked, a Friday family tradition. Rawan, her older sister, (who is in dental school in Jordan, and comes home every weekend) and Bashir were still asleep. Her sister wore no head scarf,and I don’t know if she does when she goes out. What an amazing breakfast – some kind of delicious omelet, and then one after another of something I didn’t catch the name of, but was basically a whole pita covered in different kinds of ingredients ( they ranged from cheese and onions to tomatoes to a wonderful herb called zatar, which I later looked up on line. drenched in olive oil.) The oil was “”new” they said, and so had a different taste, kind of spicy, which surprised me. We also dipped plain pita in the oil, in hummus, in tahini. ,Zatar, as I read, is an herb blend that varies in composition. Traditionally, it contains wild thyme. But the thyme is threatened, and has been put on the endangered list by the Israeli government. There is a fine for picking it. Some use regular thyme, but it is not the same, according to Said. Some Israeli Arabs consider it an affront that they are not allowed to pick it, according to Wikipedia. Other ingredients can include oregano, sesame seeds, caraway seeds, and sumac berries.
Said kept cooking these wonderful concoctions, starting with half cooked pita, and cooking them in an electric appliance that looked somewhat like a Dutch oven. And Sihan kept cutting them in quarters with a pizza cutter, and plying us with more and more until they finally believed that we couldn’t eat any more! Meanwhile, the woman who cleans their house was there, and, after she had done a lot of dusting, she came to join us at the table. She said, as Sihan translated, that she likes being there on Friday because she gets to eat so much delicious food.
I can’t remember what prompted it, but somehow, halvah got mentioned, and Said climbed up to one of the upper cabinets and took down two large containers, with two kinds of halvah. I had almost purchased one in the local store a few days ago, until I realized I didn’t have enough cash, and hadn’t brought my credit card.
I wasn’t sure how similar halvah would be here to the kind one gets at home. Recipes I’ve seen for it vary quite widely. But I was pleased to discover it was quite similar, and managed to eat several pieces despite all I’d already had. And, I was even more delighted to find out that the Halvah factory belongs to someone in their family, and they will take us for a visit!
We never did get to the olive preserving process. Perhaps next week.
Last night, we’d heard noises, chanting, coming from outside the gallery. When we went out to the roof deck to look, we could see people marching in the street parallel to ours, and hear them chanting some slogans. They marched down, toward the junction with the main road. Some time later, they came back up, on our street. We didn’t know if this was connected to the violence, the returned prisoner, or what. We weren’t particularly worried, thinking that if it was anything of concern Said would surely call us.
This morning, at breakfast, we learned that it had indeed been a protest against the violence, and that a much bigger demonstration, including women, would happen today, at about noon.
Suzi and I were both interested in going, and found out that Rawan was planning to go, with her friend, and we could accompany her.
I still remained puzzled about against whom they were protesting. The murders, obviously, were a terrible thing. But what they were asking of the police, and why the municipal government was protesting the police, was a mystery to me. Finally, after many questions, I began to understand. The police are federal. As Rawan explained it, the police don’t do anything to protect the people.
I asked how she thought the police could have prevented or helped in the situation of the murders. Rawan mentioned the idea of checking people’s homes for arms. I questioned whether people would really appreciate having police come into their homes. She thought, maybe just periodically, once or twice a year.
Basically, I think people are protesting against the lack of the Israeli government to recognize their needs, police, health, education, all kinds of services. The Arab population is, after all, 20% of the Israeli population, and they clearly do not get the services they should.
We soon set off, Rawan and her friend, Suzi, myself, uphill toward one of the larger mosques, where people were congregating for the march. There were women, old and young, and quite a few children, and we soon found and joined the large group marching through the streets. I saw men only at the very beginning of the march, and believe that there was a separate group of men marching from another direction>
I have to say I hadn’t thought this through very well, guess I was envisioning e watching the demonstration, not marching in it. I have never been a marcher, even when there is a cause I strongly support, just don’t like the group mentality, the chanting, etc. But there was no chance of our “just watching”. Rawan took me, and her friend took Suzi, literally in hand, pulling us forward faster than the pace of the group. They wanted to get towards the front, where it would be more interesting, And, they clearly took very seriously their mission of being responsible for us. Mostly the concern was about our getting lost, not any other worries. . Rawan mentioned, at one point, thatshe thought people would be very appreciative of us, as foreigners, joining in and supporting their cause. And here I was, not even sure I was understanding the cause, and also getting hotter and more out of breath by the moment. I wondered how these women, many in long coats and head scarves, managed in the heat. I often wonder this, not only during the march, but my concern was amplified here.
Rawan said that she had been worried about the demonstration last night. But she thought this one would be different, because women were marching too, and that would provide a different kind of atmosphere. I would guess that she’s right. This, I heard later from Suzi, was the first demonstration that Rawan had participated in, the first time she had felt strongly enough about protesting. She is, after all, not quite 18.
When it became clear that the march was going to continue on a lot longer, and have many more ups and downs through the winding streets, I told Rawan to head me back in the direction of the gallery, and we soon came to the road it’s on, and the march went on, uphill, and I headed down toward home, not far.
I am not sorry I participated: it was quite a remarkable experience, certainly an insight into Israeli Arab society that I hadn’t anticipated having. Surrounded by women, of many ages, shouting slogans that I couldn’t understand, in the familiar cadence of political chants around the world.
Oh, by the way, I noticed a photographer, along the way, taking a picture of me. So maybe I’ll make tomorrow’s local news. Unless, that is, Armeggedon occurs tonight.
I am catching up on world news, trying to catch up on local news. The triple murders, and the prison release, merit only a brief mention in the English language newspapers. I would like to know more, still hope to have the chance to discuss things with Said and Sihan, and also with Lilli, when she returns on Sunday. For her perspective as a Jew, but also as a very broadminded person, obviously, as she is working at the gallery, and certainly supports Arab rights.
What I do see, in the international news, is mention of the crazy preacher who predicted the Apocalypse to occur some months ago `. He has now recalculated it to occur – TODAY! This is particularly interesting to me because here in Umm el Fahem, I am only a short distance from the town of Bar Megiddo, known in Hebrew as …..you guessed it, Armageddon! I had been thinking already it might be interesting to go there, described by my Lonely Planet guidebook as a popular attraction for doomsday watchers as well as the just plain curious. And a woman I met yesterday who lives there says that it’s a very interesting archeological site. So if I rush out right now, maybe I can make it before midnight. I’ve still got a few hours. But wait, if he was calculating American time, I’ve got about 10 hours.
Yesterday evening did not pan out as planned, a not unusual state of affairs. There was a group of high school students fulfilling their 200 hour community service commitment, by working on a photography project with the artist whose photos are currently on exhibit here. .The group uses the same large meeting room that we have been using. So apparent.ly we couldn’t meet. But we had met a few days back in the office so Layla could cover the front desk.
And, as I’ve said before, there are other rooms available too. Then, more disappointingly,, Jamal didn’t come to pick me up at 4pm. I know he has my phone number, and I had his wife’s cell #, too, but didn’t feel like pursuing. it. I think his hours of community service to the gallery may be over, too. I do hope I get to see him, and his family, again. I believe that he registered his children in the art classes here after I mentioned it last week. So perhaps I will see them tomorrow.
This morning, Said picked us up, as planned, and brought us to his house for breakfast. He was wearing a t shirt and crocs! Certainly more informal than his daily attire at the gallery. (not that he dresses terribly formally, no jacket and tie, but no t shirt and crocs, either. Sihan had no head scarf on. Women often don’t wear them at home. But their daughter Rawan and Rawan’s friend were wearing them.
First it was just Sihan, Suzi, and myself eating breakfast, which Said cooked, a Friday family tradition. Rawan, her older sister, (who is in dental school in Jordan, and comes home every weekend) and Bashir were still asleep. Her sister wore no head scarf,and I don’t know if she does when she goes out. What an amazing breakfast – some kind of delicious omelet, and then one after another of something I didn’t catch the name of, but was basically a whole pita covered in different kinds of ingredients ( they ranged from cheese and onions to tomatoes to a wonderful herb called zatar, which I later looked up on line. drenched in olive oil.) The oil was “”new” they said, and so had a different taste, kind of spicy, which surprised me. We also dipped plain pita in the oil, in hummus, in tahini. ,Zatar, as I read, is an herb blend that varies in composition. Traditionally, it contains wild thyme. But the thyme is threatened, and has been put on the endangered list by the Israeli government. There is a fine for picking it. Some use regular thyme, but it is not the same, according to Said. Some Israeli Arabs consider it an affront that they are not allowed to pick it, according to Wikipedia. Other ingredients can include oregano, sesame seeds, caraway seeds, and sumac berries.
Said kept cooking these wonderful concoctions, starting with half cooked pita, and cooking them in an electric appliance that looked somewhat like a Dutch oven. And Sihan kept cutting them in quarters with a pizza cutter, and plying us with more and more until they finally believed that we couldn’t eat any more! Meanwhile, the woman who cleans their house was there, and, after she had done a lot of dusting, she came to join us at the table. She said, as Sihan translated, that she likes being there on Friday because she gets to eat so much delicious food.
I can’t remember what prompted it, but somehow, halvah got mentioned, and Said climbed up to one of the upper cabinets and took down two large containers, with two kinds of halvah. I had almost purchased one in the local store a few days ago, until I realized I didn’t have enough cash, and hadn’t brought my credit card.
I wasn’t sure how similar halvah would be here to the kind one gets at home. Recipes I’ve seen for it vary quite widely. But I was pleased to discover it was quite similar, and managed to eat several pieces despite all I’d already had. And, I was even more delighted to find out that the Halvah factory belongs to someone in their family, and they will take us for a visit!
We never did get to the olive preserving process. Perhaps next week.
Last night, we’d heard noises, chanting, coming from outside the gallery. When we went out to the roof deck to look, we could see people marching in the street parallel to ours, and hear them chanting some slogans. They marched down, toward the junction with the main road. Some time later, they came back up, on our street. We didn’t know if this was connected to the violence, the returned prisoner, or what. We weren’t particularly worried, thinking that if it was anything of concern Said would surely call us.
This morning, at breakfast, we learned that it had indeed been a protest against the violence, and that a much bigger demonstration, including women, would happen today, at about noon.
Suzi and I were both interested in going, and found out that Rawan was planning to go, with her friend, and we could accompany her.
I still remained puzzled about against whom they were protesting. The murders, obviously, were a terrible thing. But what they were asking of the police, and why the municipal government was protesting the police, was a mystery to me. Finally, after many questions, I began to understand. The police are federal. As Rawan explained it, the police don’t do anything to protect the people.
I asked how she thought the police could have prevented or helped in the situation of the murders. Rawan mentioned the idea of checking people’s homes for arms. I questioned whether people would really appreciate having police come into their homes. She thought, maybe just periodically, once or twice a year.
Basically, I think people are protesting against the lack of the Israeli government to recognize their needs, police, health, education, all kinds of services. The Arab population is, after all, 20% of the Israeli population, and they clearly do not get the services they should.
We soon set off, Rawan and her friend, Suzi, myself, uphill toward one of the larger mosques, where people were congregating for the march. There were women, old and young, and quite a few children, and we soon found and joined the large group marching through the streets. I saw men only at the very beginning of the march, and believe that there was a separate group of men marching from another direction>
I have to say I hadn’t thought this through very well, guess I was envisioning e watching the demonstration, not marching in it. I have never been a marcher, even when there is a cause I strongly support, just don’t like the group mentality, the chanting, etc. But there was no chance of our “just watching”. Rawan took me, and her friend took Suzi, literally in hand, pulling us forward faster than the pace of the group. They wanted to get towards the front, where it would be more interesting, And, they clearly took very seriously their mission of being responsible for us. Mostly the concern was about our getting lost, not any other worries. . Rawan mentioned, at one point, thatshe thought people would be very appreciative of us, as foreigners, joining in and supporting their cause. And here I was, not even sure I was understanding the cause, and also getting hotter and more out of breath by the moment. I wondered how these women, many in long coats and head scarves, managed in the heat. I often wonder this, not only during the march, but my concern was amplified here.
Rawan said that she had been worried about the demonstration last night. But she thought this one would be different, because women were marching too, and that would provide a different kind of atmosphere. I would guess that she’s right. This, I heard later from Suzi, was the first demonstration that Rawan had participated in, the first time she had felt strongly enough about protesting. She is, after all, not quite 18.
When it became clear that the march was going to continue on a lot longer, and have many more ups and downs through the winding streets, I told Rawan to head me back in the direction of the gallery, and we soon came to the road it’s on, and the march went on, uphill, and I headed down toward home, not far.
I am not sorry I participated: it was quite a remarkable experience, certainly an insight into Israeli Arab society that I hadn’t anticipated having. Surrounded by women, of many ages, shouting slogans that I couldn’t understand, in the familiar cadence of political chants around the world.
Oh, by the way, I noticed a photographer, along the way, taking a picture of me. So maybe I’ll make tomorrow’s local news. Unless, that is, Armeggedon occurs tonight.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Memories of Place, and visitors from Jerusalem, Ramallah, and the United States
Thursday
It’s now been two weeks since I arrived in Israel, ten days that I’ve been in Umm el Fahem, When I start dictating to myself about my experiences, in the shower, or worse, when I am trying to read, it’s definitely time to hit the blog again! I used to have a similar kind of experience, years ago, when I’d been doing a lot of typing, realizing that I was mentally typing my thoughts in my head. That doesn’t happen when I’ve been typing on the computer. Maybe because the touch of the fingers on the keyboard is much softer on computer that on an old manual typewriter, (or as Max and Carolina once referred to it, an old fashioned computer.) But I digress, before I have even begun.
Yesterday was a quiet day here. Everything was indeed closed, it seemed. But as I didn’t go out until evening, I can’t say for sure. By dinnertime things were bustling again. The gallery was closed, at least until the leader of a group on their way here called Said. It’s a good thing they called, so Said was able to come to welcome them and give them a tour. They were American. I don’t know if they were even aware of the strike.That’s all I know, because I slept through their entire visit!
I am curious to know more about both of yesterday's situations, the murders and the returned soldier, jailed for murder for 20 years. I am hoping to have some conversations this afternoon, with my class, and with Jamal and his wife, about their perspectives on both situations. We already know Jamal’s opinion on the soldier, he was clear about it the other day. But what do people in general think, and is there any more detail to the triple murder/family feud story? Family seems of the utmost importance here, nuclear family, but also extended family. What preceded this event? What will happen to the young couple now? I admit to being fascinated by true life crimes, especially one that occurs in the very place I am living. Will it make a good topic of conversation in my class of the young women staffers? Or is it something they would shy away from? Do most couples arrange their own marriages here? How important is family approval or involvement.?
Can we have a discussion on these topics and then play 20 questions? Or would it be too drastic a shift in mood?
One thing I have been doing with this group is reading over the brochure, which needs some updating before it is printed and distributed. It seems to be a practical and useful exercise, for them and for me. Luckily we have almost finished it, since two of my four students have now declared their reluctance to read!
Next, I plan to try using a book published by the gallery called Memories of Place, which is part of the permanent exhibit aat the gallery. It is a collection of photos, some vintage, and some contemporary, that documents life in the city and the surrounding area. All of these photos, and some videos, are part of the growing archive of the gallery. One video is filmed from a car driving through the city the last time it snowed here, about 20 years ago. Although this project is different from the major goal of showcasing contemporary art, Said feels that it an important part of the gallery’s mission.
Many of the photographs are of an historical nature, but some are contemporary pictures of older couples, posed in their living rooms. The room also features a set up of a traditional living room, with low couches and pillows. I haven't seen anyone sitting in the furniture there, but hope that some do. I would especially like to see the school groups using the room, which perhaps they do.
I don’t know how this will go over with the staffers, but I am going to try to ask them to choose a photo from the exhibit and then talk about it, explain what appeals to them about it, why they think it’s important. It seems very relevant to their desire to learn language that is related to the gallery. But it may require more sophisticated language skills than they have. I don't want to frustrate them. I’d better come up with a back up plan before 3 pm!
Layla, Rawan, Eiman, and Mohammed are all working on the archives project, which encompasses the Memories of Place exhibit. The young woman all work on filming and transcribing the memories of elders. They can often be found in the archives office, headphones over their headscarves, listening to and transcribing the accounts Mohammed is the computer guru. I don't know if the project eventually includes translating them, but I would hope that local people, at least, would come to watch and listen.
Lilli has asked me to help her with the website. I made clear to her even before I came here that I did not have technical skills, but would be happy to help her with writing, proofing, editing, etc. And so I have been going over the website, making notes, and will go ove r things with her next week, when she returns from her Sukkot vacation. The site is basically quite nice, I would like to know who did the translation, because it is very good. But there are a couple of places where I feel the language is a bit too flowery, at least for an English language audience, and it will be interesting to discuss that with Lilli.
There are a couple of places on the site that are under construction on
The website .One is the the section for the Memories of Place exhibit.
Right in the middle of the prevous sentence I had two unexpected visits, so a half hour or so (maybe more, it’s hard to keep track of time) ha s gone by since I began writing about the website. One was a man and woman, with Said, from an arts foundation in Ramallah, in the West Bank. The other was three friends of Suzi. They both came by the apartment, where I am writing. These are the first visitors we have had here to the apartment (they've come to see the rooftop sculptures, and they arrive back to back. I will write more about them when I finish up my previous train of thought.
Lilli wants my help on writing up the website section on the exhibit and the archives, another thing I will be happy to do. If I actually accomplish these several projects, create the day visit in coordination with GoEco, and continue my language classes for the next weeks, I will be very pleased. Then, of course, there is the issue of follow-through. I wonder if Ann, the English woman who put the brochure together last year, knows that it never got printed, much less distributed. I do hope we can get that together, too. One encouraging thing, in terms of organizing the visits here is that the family of Jonathan Gelbin, co founder of GoEco, and Said are good friends.
Re today's two visits, the first people were from an arts foundation in Ramallah, in the West Bank, the Qattan Foundation. I assume they are discussing with Said how the organizations can work together. The other folks are a friend of Suzi, and two friends of hers. One woman is an enamel artist .The man is a tour director, gave me his card, and said to call him, not with the idea of giving him business, but just if I had any questions or needed advice about travelling.
I have my staff class in a few minutes, and after that am going to Jamal’s house, for English conversation with him and his family, and, no doubt, some delicious food. Tomorrow morning (remember, Friday is the weekend here) Suzi and I are invited to Said’s house, for breakfast, and for a lesson in preserving olives!
It’s now been two weeks since I arrived in Israel, ten days that I’ve been in Umm el Fahem, When I start dictating to myself about my experiences, in the shower, or worse, when I am trying to read, it’s definitely time to hit the blog again! I used to have a similar kind of experience, years ago, when I’d been doing a lot of typing, realizing that I was mentally typing my thoughts in my head. That doesn’t happen when I’ve been typing on the computer. Maybe because the touch of the fingers on the keyboard is much softer on computer that on an old manual typewriter, (or as Max and Carolina once referred to it, an old fashioned computer.) But I digress, before I have even begun.
Yesterday was a quiet day here. Everything was indeed closed, it seemed. But as I didn’t go out until evening, I can’t say for sure. By dinnertime things were bustling again. The gallery was closed, at least until the leader of a group on their way here called Said. It’s a good thing they called, so Said was able to come to welcome them and give them a tour. They were American. I don’t know if they were even aware of the strike.That’s all I know, because I slept through their entire visit!
I am curious to know more about both of yesterday's situations, the murders and the returned soldier, jailed for murder for 20 years. I am hoping to have some conversations this afternoon, with my class, and with Jamal and his wife, about their perspectives on both situations. We already know Jamal’s opinion on the soldier, he was clear about it the other day. But what do people in general think, and is there any more detail to the triple murder/family feud story? Family seems of the utmost importance here, nuclear family, but also extended family. What preceded this event? What will happen to the young couple now? I admit to being fascinated by true life crimes, especially one that occurs in the very place I am living. Will it make a good topic of conversation in my class of the young women staffers? Or is it something they would shy away from? Do most couples arrange their own marriages here? How important is family approval or involvement.?
Can we have a discussion on these topics and then play 20 questions? Or would it be too drastic a shift in mood?
One thing I have been doing with this group is reading over the brochure, which needs some updating before it is printed and distributed. It seems to be a practical and useful exercise, for them and for me. Luckily we have almost finished it, since two of my four students have now declared their reluctance to read!
Next, I plan to try using a book published by the gallery called Memories of Place, which is part of the permanent exhibit aat the gallery. It is a collection of photos, some vintage, and some contemporary, that documents life in the city and the surrounding area. All of these photos, and some videos, are part of the growing archive of the gallery. One video is filmed from a car driving through the city the last time it snowed here, about 20 years ago. Although this project is different from the major goal of showcasing contemporary art, Said feels that it an important part of the gallery’s mission.
Many of the photographs are of an historical nature, but some are contemporary pictures of older couples, posed in their living rooms. The room also features a set up of a traditional living room, with low couches and pillows. I haven't seen anyone sitting in the furniture there, but hope that some do. I would especially like to see the school groups using the room, which perhaps they do.
I don’t know how this will go over with the staffers, but I am going to try to ask them to choose a photo from the exhibit and then talk about it, explain what appeals to them about it, why they think it’s important. It seems very relevant to their desire to learn language that is related to the gallery. But it may require more sophisticated language skills than they have. I don't want to frustrate them. I’d better come up with a back up plan before 3 pm!
Layla, Rawan, Eiman, and Mohammed are all working on the archives project, which encompasses the Memories of Place exhibit. The young woman all work on filming and transcribing the memories of elders. They can often be found in the archives office, headphones over their headscarves, listening to and transcribing the accounts Mohammed is the computer guru. I don't know if the project eventually includes translating them, but I would hope that local people, at least, would come to watch and listen.
Lilli has asked me to help her with the website. I made clear to her even before I came here that I did not have technical skills, but would be happy to help her with writing, proofing, editing, etc. And so I have been going over the website, making notes, and will go ove r things with her next week, when she returns from her Sukkot vacation. The site is basically quite nice, I would like to know who did the translation, because it is very good. But there are a couple of places where I feel the language is a bit too flowery, at least for an English language audience, and it will be interesting to discuss that with Lilli.
There are a couple of places on the site that are under construction on
The website .One is the the section for the Memories of Place exhibit.
Right in the middle of the prevous sentence I had two unexpected visits, so a half hour or so (maybe more, it’s hard to keep track of time) ha s gone by since I began writing about the website. One was a man and woman, with Said, from an arts foundation in Ramallah, in the West Bank. The other was three friends of Suzi. They both came by the apartment, where I am writing. These are the first visitors we have had here to the apartment (they've come to see the rooftop sculptures, and they arrive back to back. I will write more about them when I finish up my previous train of thought.
Lilli wants my help on writing up the website section on the exhibit and the archives, another thing I will be happy to do. If I actually accomplish these several projects, create the day visit in coordination with GoEco, and continue my language classes for the next weeks, I will be very pleased. Then, of course, there is the issue of follow-through. I wonder if Ann, the English woman who put the brochure together last year, knows that it never got printed, much less distributed. I do hope we can get that together, too. One encouraging thing, in terms of organizing the visits here is that the family of Jonathan Gelbin, co founder of GoEco, and Said are good friends.
Re today's two visits, the first people were from an arts foundation in Ramallah, in the West Bank, the Qattan Foundation. I assume they are discussing with Said how the organizations can work together. The other folks are a friend of Suzi, and two friends of hers. One woman is an enamel artist .The man is a tour director, gave me his card, and said to call him, not with the idea of giving him business, but just if I had any questions or needed advice about travelling.
I have my staff class in a few minutes, and after that am going to Jamal’s house, for English conversation with him and his family, and, no doubt, some delicious food. Tomorrow morning (remember, Friday is the weekend here) Suzi and I are invited to Said’s house, for breakfast, and for a lesson in preserving olives!
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
A celebration, a released traded prisoner, a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare
I am about to eat some traditional local food, purchased in the tiny neighborhood market a couple of days ago. Would you believe – ramen noodles! Or the local variation, anyway. They are called Indo Mie, and I am guessing they are from Indonesia, although I can’t seem to find it on the package. They have the little seasoning packet, although it’s three seasonings, bumbu sauce, chili sauce, and a liquid oil and curry sauce. I can’t wait, as soon as they cool off a little. I have to confess, I am a ramen noodle addict. Seriously.
So while I wait for them to cool a bit, let me backtrack and catch you up on the last couple of days. This morning, I had my individual tutoring class with Halima, one of the art teachers. I brought a catalog from another exhibit that featured the work of Fatima Abu Rumi, whose work is currently on exhibit here. Since the text was in English as well as Arabic, and Hebrew, I thought we could focus on a few of the words, and then Halima could read the text in Arabic later to get a better understanding. But Halima was clear that she didn’t want to do that, she wanted to focus on more practical conversation, like shopping. So we went into practicing a conversation about asking about size, price, and color in looking for a blouse. And this led into a conversation about traditional and modern clothing, head scarves, etc. I mentioned that I was fascinated by the variety in women’s style of dress, and that it didn’t seem to be a generational thing. She told me that she only started wearing a head scarf about 9 years ago, just because she liked the idea. (and, she said, because it’s easier to get ready in the morning, you don’t have to worry about your hair!)
Okay, I’ve tried the noodles now, and they are good! Better than the ones at home, with the curry flavoring and the kick from the chili. I may have to bring some back home with me. I wonder if they’re allowed by customs. Oh, and I did find the tiny print indicating where they were made – Saudi Arabia. So much for my guess.
After the clothing conversation, Halima had something else she wanted to explain to me. First she said police, then drew a square. It’s like charades. She eventually managed to convey the word jail to me. Then she mentioned Shalit, the Israeli Jewish soldier who is being released today in exchange for about 1000 Palestinian prisoners, 500 now and 500 a month from now. I know about it, it certainly is big news in Israel, but my own info has come mostly from US sources online, not from any discussions with folks here. Until today. Well, it turns out that six of the released are Israeli Arabs, not Palestinians, and one of them is from here.
This is what Halima eventually managed to convey to me, that on her way to work here today there was a lot of traffic , people coming to see the released prisoner. The other staff kept hanging out the window, reacting when they heard honking horns and firecrackers. (but there are frequently horns as well as firecrackers, and I don’t think they actually had anything to do with the prisoners). Eventually everyone went back to what they were doing. I have no idea if the guy arrived, or what happened. Someone told me that he had been in jail for 20 years for killing someone.
Jamal, with whom I’ve already had conversations about Jewish -Arab relations, said quite clearly that he has no sympathy for the returning man, that he is a murderer. I am very curious to learn what others here think.
Kamle, Saids’ secretary, who has supposedly been coordinating my English classes, said there wouldn’t be a class today, everyone was too wound up. But everyone else in the class said they were planning to meet with me, and so we are meeting at 4pm, in about 45 minutes from now.
As I write this I am pondering whether to bring up the returning prisoner as a topic of conversation. I think I will just ask them what happened, did he arrive, and see where it goes from there. And then we’ll play 20 questions!!
Last night we had an amazing experience. (I feel like I keep saying that!) We were invited, not just us but the whole gallery staff, to a party. It was for a man who used to be one of the community service people here (he had supposedly sold some pirated books, but he denied it.) The man, in his thirties, had been diagnosed with cancer, but last week doctors told him he didn’t have it after all. Hence, the party. I don’t think anyone had a clue how big a party it was going to be. It was at a function hall. Well, not exactly hall, it was outdoors, overlooking the city. It was a huge crowd, I was later told 700 people. We’d been told earlier that it was a lamb barbeque, and Lilli warned us that they might slaughter the animal there, that was a common thing. That led me to remember the sheep’s eye I’d once been offered in Casablanca after they slaughtered the animal on the roof, which I declined and have always felt guilty about, hoping I hadn’t terribly offended them.
Last night, there were platters of lamb skewers, steaks which I believe were also lamb, and meatballs that I think were lamb too. But no slaughter, at least not at the event, at least not that we were aware of. Of course they kept offering us more and more. .And there were at least six or eight different kinds of salads, vegetables, hummus, etcetera. I ate a lot more than I should have. It was all delicious.
After we’d finished, we moved to another table closer to the stage, and there the waiters were serving dessert, some very rich baklava- like layered pastries, but with cheese. I had two!
We had also been told that the party might be segregated, men and women apart. But that wasn’t true, either. It certainly would have been a very different event if it had been. I wouldn’t have minded, it would have been interesting.
Before the party, we had gone, first, to Said’s house, where we met his wife and youngest son, Bashir, who is 15. His house is incredibly beautiful, architecturally, and is decorated with all kinds of wonderful art. His wife, Sihan, is an elementary school principal. She had worked with the man whose non cancer we were celebrating, when she was a science teacher. He, whose name I have forgottn, is a history teacher.
After tea and candies and a tour of his house, including his studio, we left for the party. The staff had collected money, and we contributed too, for a gift. They bought a vase and a lamp. I can’t imagine what he must have received if all 700 guests brought gifts!
After the party, Said and Sihan said they wanted to take us on a driving tour of the city. We went all around to the other side of the hills on which Umm el Fahem sits.The view was exquisite. He then told us there was a small Jewish community nearby, with whom the people in the city had a good relationship. It was not exactly a kibbutz, but a moshad. There, people own some things, like heavy equipment, collectively, but not their homes.
We came up to the entrance of the community, which was gated. Said spoke to the guard, who said he couldn’t let us in then, that we could come back during the day. As we were pulling out, another car, of residents I assume, pulled up and asked if they could help us. Said explained that we wanted to visit the place, but that the guard had said to come back, and that was fine, he was doing his job. It was all quite cordial.
I thought we were heading home (it had certainly been a busy enough evening for me) when Said said that we were going to their house to drop off, Rawan, their 17 (almost 18!) year old daughter, who is one of the staff people here, and one of my English students, and pick up Bashir, their 15 year old son, to bring him to the pool at the country club, where he swims 3 times a week. We are invited to go too, to use the pool or machines, on one of the women’s days.
Next, Said took us on a tour of another neighborhood, newly built, of immense houses. They explained that they were multi-family houses, either parent-son families, or multiple brother families. He drove us into the driveway of one of the biggest, said it was ok, the man was his friend. The friend promptly came out and invited us in. His business was selling livestock, often to Jewish families. It had been his father’s business before his.
His young wife, carrying a baby, served us coffee and apple juice. Said had already told us that the man had two wives. The first one hadn’t been able to get pregnant. Each wife had her own house within the compound. I asked if the two wives were friends. Said said, of course. Suzi said, you’ll never convince me. Said said something to the young woman, who laughed. Boy, would I like to continue that conversation. What we did find out was that having more than one wife was legal (really, under Israeli law?) but uncommon.
We continued on our drive. Before long, we passed a couple out walking, and Said rolled down the window to chat. More friends. They apparently also invited us in, but Said declined. A minute later, we passes still another couple, who also invited us, and we accepted. The ones we had declined joined us as well, and soon we were a group of about ten, including the son and daughter of the folks whose home we were at, and a neighbor who I am thinking was also a brother!
We had some very interesting conversations with our mint tea, dates, and almonds, and I’ll pick up again in a while, after my English class.
I’m back, a couple of hours later.
I wanted to mention a few things about our second visit to the friends´homes. Most of the conversation was in Arabic, so we obviously missed a lot. But we had some interesting conversatons with individuals, and a few times, with the group at large. Said k new that I was interested in finding some live Arabic music. It turns out that the father of the house directs a performance of music and dance every year in Haifa, and that it’s next week. The son produces it. Whatever it is, I am sure it will be great, and you can bet that I am going.
At one point, everyone in the room erupted in laughter. Said then explained to us that someone had mentioned a woman being pregnant with twins. And Said misunderstood that it was the mother of the family. She looked to be about 50 years old. Said said maybe she could give some advice to his wife, because he still wanted more children in addition to their five. Turns out it was the daughter who is pregnant, not the mother, and that his friends are going to be grandparents. Everyone was immersed in laughter at the idea that it was the mother who was expecting twins.
To the extent that I could interpret their interactions, it seems like the women were entirely on an equal level with the men in their conversations. The women did not seem in any way subservient, although they did do all the serving of tea, coffee, etc. But that isn’t so different from American society.
The class this afternoon was interesting. We read the brochure and discussed the vocabulary some more. Mohammed and Rawan are both active participants. Layla and Eiman much less so. Eiman has told me she is shy about reading, self conscious because she has difficulty pronouncing some letters. And yet she isn’t shy about speaking, only reading. I ask her how she would feel about practicing if it was just me and her, and she says that would be much better. So perhaps we will try that. Now Layla is saying she is shy and doesn’t’ want to read either! And yet they both seem to want to come, this is totally voluntary, not something they have to do. So since I am meeting individually with Halima, because of her working schedule, I feel like I should offer Eiman the same option, and probably Layla, too, if that is what they want. I think I, personally, would feel the opposite, less shy when among friends than just one on one. But, I have the time, so whatever works for them.
We did play 20 questions again, and it guessed pomegranate (which we were eating during the class) correctly this time, and then, water, as well.
We also did speak a little about the prisoner trade situation, which I brought up, and my sense was that they all were pleased and proud about the local man being released. It will be interesting to speak with others, like Said, and hear their perspective.
When I mentioned that I’d see them tomorrow, they said, no, there’s a strike tomorrow, everything, gallery included, is closed. The reason for the strike: protesting violence in the city. Not Jewish-Arab violence. The fact that violence in the city had been increasing in the city in general, and demanding that something be done to stop it. It turns out there was a tragic killing here last night, in the early hours of the morning. Mohammed attempted to explain it to me, with the help of his electronic dictionary. It is a story of Shakespearean proportions. It is absolutely incredible that two events, this and the return of the prisoner, have happened here in Umm el Fahem on the same day. And that I could have been totally unaware of both, if people hadn’t explained them to me. Until tomorrow, at least, when I would have discovered the gallery closed and the city shut down.
Here is the story as I understood it from Mohammed. What we have found online differs in some details, and doesn’t have as many details.
There were two families. The daughter of one, a well to do family, was in love with the son of the other, a poorer family. The father of the girl refused to permit the engagement of his daughter. The two ran away. The girl spoke to her mother, who convinced the father to allow the engagement. The pair returned to their homes, and the girl’s father agreed that they could marry if the boy was able to build a house for them within a year. But, either he, or people he hired, went to the boy’s family, and shot his father and his two brothers. The brother in love with the girl escaped unharmed. The father and two brothers died. The boy returned home. The girl and her mother and the boy and his mother all survived. The girl’s father has disappeared.
This is what happened today, along with the welcome home of the prisoner, in Umm el Fahem. While I had a leisurely morning, took my clothes to the laundry, taught my students, ate pomegranates and ramenesque noodles, and played twenty questions.
So while I wait for them to cool a bit, let me backtrack and catch you up on the last couple of days. This morning, I had my individual tutoring class with Halima, one of the art teachers. I brought a catalog from another exhibit that featured the work of Fatima Abu Rumi, whose work is currently on exhibit here. Since the text was in English as well as Arabic, and Hebrew, I thought we could focus on a few of the words, and then Halima could read the text in Arabic later to get a better understanding. But Halima was clear that she didn’t want to do that, she wanted to focus on more practical conversation, like shopping. So we went into practicing a conversation about asking about size, price, and color in looking for a blouse. And this led into a conversation about traditional and modern clothing, head scarves, etc. I mentioned that I was fascinated by the variety in women’s style of dress, and that it didn’t seem to be a generational thing. She told me that she only started wearing a head scarf about 9 years ago, just because she liked the idea. (and, she said, because it’s easier to get ready in the morning, you don’t have to worry about your hair!)
Okay, I’ve tried the noodles now, and they are good! Better than the ones at home, with the curry flavoring and the kick from the chili. I may have to bring some back home with me. I wonder if they’re allowed by customs. Oh, and I did find the tiny print indicating where they were made – Saudi Arabia. So much for my guess.
After the clothing conversation, Halima had something else she wanted to explain to me. First she said police, then drew a square. It’s like charades. She eventually managed to convey the word jail to me. Then she mentioned Shalit, the Israeli Jewish soldier who is being released today in exchange for about 1000 Palestinian prisoners, 500 now and 500 a month from now. I know about it, it certainly is big news in Israel, but my own info has come mostly from US sources online, not from any discussions with folks here. Until today. Well, it turns out that six of the released are Israeli Arabs, not Palestinians, and one of them is from here.
This is what Halima eventually managed to convey to me, that on her way to work here today there was a lot of traffic , people coming to see the released prisoner. The other staff kept hanging out the window, reacting when they heard honking horns and firecrackers. (but there are frequently horns as well as firecrackers, and I don’t think they actually had anything to do with the prisoners). Eventually everyone went back to what they were doing. I have no idea if the guy arrived, or what happened. Someone told me that he had been in jail for 20 years for killing someone.
Jamal, with whom I’ve already had conversations about Jewish -Arab relations, said quite clearly that he has no sympathy for the returning man, that he is a murderer. I am very curious to learn what others here think.
Kamle, Saids’ secretary, who has supposedly been coordinating my English classes, said there wouldn’t be a class today, everyone was too wound up. But everyone else in the class said they were planning to meet with me, and so we are meeting at 4pm, in about 45 minutes from now.
As I write this I am pondering whether to bring up the returning prisoner as a topic of conversation. I think I will just ask them what happened, did he arrive, and see where it goes from there. And then we’ll play 20 questions!!
Last night we had an amazing experience. (I feel like I keep saying that!) We were invited, not just us but the whole gallery staff, to a party. It was for a man who used to be one of the community service people here (he had supposedly sold some pirated books, but he denied it.) The man, in his thirties, had been diagnosed with cancer, but last week doctors told him he didn’t have it after all. Hence, the party. I don’t think anyone had a clue how big a party it was going to be. It was at a function hall. Well, not exactly hall, it was outdoors, overlooking the city. It was a huge crowd, I was later told 700 people. We’d been told earlier that it was a lamb barbeque, and Lilli warned us that they might slaughter the animal there, that was a common thing. That led me to remember the sheep’s eye I’d once been offered in Casablanca after they slaughtered the animal on the roof, which I declined and have always felt guilty about, hoping I hadn’t terribly offended them.
Last night, there were platters of lamb skewers, steaks which I believe were also lamb, and meatballs that I think were lamb too. But no slaughter, at least not at the event, at least not that we were aware of. Of course they kept offering us more and more. .And there were at least six or eight different kinds of salads, vegetables, hummus, etcetera. I ate a lot more than I should have. It was all delicious.
After we’d finished, we moved to another table closer to the stage, and there the waiters were serving dessert, some very rich baklava- like layered pastries, but with cheese. I had two!
We had also been told that the party might be segregated, men and women apart. But that wasn’t true, either. It certainly would have been a very different event if it had been. I wouldn’t have minded, it would have been interesting.
Before the party, we had gone, first, to Said’s house, where we met his wife and youngest son, Bashir, who is 15. His house is incredibly beautiful, architecturally, and is decorated with all kinds of wonderful art. His wife, Sihan, is an elementary school principal. She had worked with the man whose non cancer we were celebrating, when she was a science teacher. He, whose name I have forgottn, is a history teacher.
After tea and candies and a tour of his house, including his studio, we left for the party. The staff had collected money, and we contributed too, for a gift. They bought a vase and a lamp. I can’t imagine what he must have received if all 700 guests brought gifts!
After the party, Said and Sihan said they wanted to take us on a driving tour of the city. We went all around to the other side of the hills on which Umm el Fahem sits.The view was exquisite. He then told us there was a small Jewish community nearby, with whom the people in the city had a good relationship. It was not exactly a kibbutz, but a moshad. There, people own some things, like heavy equipment, collectively, but not their homes.
We came up to the entrance of the community, which was gated. Said spoke to the guard, who said he couldn’t let us in then, that we could come back during the day. As we were pulling out, another car, of residents I assume, pulled up and asked if they could help us. Said explained that we wanted to visit the place, but that the guard had said to come back, and that was fine, he was doing his job. It was all quite cordial.
I thought we were heading home (it had certainly been a busy enough evening for me) when Said said that we were going to their house to drop off, Rawan, their 17 (almost 18!) year old daughter, who is one of the staff people here, and one of my English students, and pick up Bashir, their 15 year old son, to bring him to the pool at the country club, where he swims 3 times a week. We are invited to go too, to use the pool or machines, on one of the women’s days.
Next, Said took us on a tour of another neighborhood, newly built, of immense houses. They explained that they were multi-family houses, either parent-son families, or multiple brother families. He drove us into the driveway of one of the biggest, said it was ok, the man was his friend. The friend promptly came out and invited us in. His business was selling livestock, often to Jewish families. It had been his father’s business before his.
His young wife, carrying a baby, served us coffee and apple juice. Said had already told us that the man had two wives. The first one hadn’t been able to get pregnant. Each wife had her own house within the compound. I asked if the two wives were friends. Said said, of course. Suzi said, you’ll never convince me. Said said something to the young woman, who laughed. Boy, would I like to continue that conversation. What we did find out was that having more than one wife was legal (really, under Israeli law?) but uncommon.
We continued on our drive. Before long, we passed a couple out walking, and Said rolled down the window to chat. More friends. They apparently also invited us in, but Said declined. A minute later, we passes still another couple, who also invited us, and we accepted. The ones we had declined joined us as well, and soon we were a group of about ten, including the son and daughter of the folks whose home we were at, and a neighbor who I am thinking was also a brother!
We had some very interesting conversations with our mint tea, dates, and almonds, and I’ll pick up again in a while, after my English class.
I’m back, a couple of hours later.
I wanted to mention a few things about our second visit to the friends´homes. Most of the conversation was in Arabic, so we obviously missed a lot. But we had some interesting conversatons with individuals, and a few times, with the group at large. Said k new that I was interested in finding some live Arabic music. It turns out that the father of the house directs a performance of music and dance every year in Haifa, and that it’s next week. The son produces it. Whatever it is, I am sure it will be great, and you can bet that I am going.
At one point, everyone in the room erupted in laughter. Said then explained to us that someone had mentioned a woman being pregnant with twins. And Said misunderstood that it was the mother of the family. She looked to be about 50 years old. Said said maybe she could give some advice to his wife, because he still wanted more children in addition to their five. Turns out it was the daughter who is pregnant, not the mother, and that his friends are going to be grandparents. Everyone was immersed in laughter at the idea that it was the mother who was expecting twins.
To the extent that I could interpret their interactions, it seems like the women were entirely on an equal level with the men in their conversations. The women did not seem in any way subservient, although they did do all the serving of tea, coffee, etc. But that isn’t so different from American society.
The class this afternoon was interesting. We read the brochure and discussed the vocabulary some more. Mohammed and Rawan are both active participants. Layla and Eiman much less so. Eiman has told me she is shy about reading, self conscious because she has difficulty pronouncing some letters. And yet she isn’t shy about speaking, only reading. I ask her how she would feel about practicing if it was just me and her, and she says that would be much better. So perhaps we will try that. Now Layla is saying she is shy and doesn’t’ want to read either! And yet they both seem to want to come, this is totally voluntary, not something they have to do. So since I am meeting individually with Halima, because of her working schedule, I feel like I should offer Eiman the same option, and probably Layla, too, if that is what they want. I think I, personally, would feel the opposite, less shy when among friends than just one on one. But, I have the time, so whatever works for them.
We did play 20 questions again, and it guessed pomegranate (which we were eating during the class) correctly this time, and then, water, as well.
We also did speak a little about the prisoner trade situation, which I brought up, and my sense was that they all were pleased and proud about the local man being released. It will be interesting to speak with others, like Said, and hear their perspective.
When I mentioned that I’d see them tomorrow, they said, no, there’s a strike tomorrow, everything, gallery included, is closed. The reason for the strike: protesting violence in the city. Not Jewish-Arab violence. The fact that violence in the city had been increasing in the city in general, and demanding that something be done to stop it. It turns out there was a tragic killing here last night, in the early hours of the morning. Mohammed attempted to explain it to me, with the help of his electronic dictionary. It is a story of Shakespearean proportions. It is absolutely incredible that two events, this and the return of the prisoner, have happened here in Umm el Fahem on the same day. And that I could have been totally unaware of both, if people hadn’t explained them to me. Until tomorrow, at least, when I would have discovered the gallery closed and the city shut down.
Here is the story as I understood it from Mohammed. What we have found online differs in some details, and doesn’t have as many details.
There were two families. The daughter of one, a well to do family, was in love with the son of the other, a poorer family. The father of the girl refused to permit the engagement of his daughter. The two ran away. The girl spoke to her mother, who convinced the father to allow the engagement. The pair returned to their homes, and the girl’s father agreed that they could marry if the boy was able to build a house for them within a year. But, either he, or people he hired, went to the boy’s family, and shot his father and his two brothers. The brother in love with the girl escaped unharmed. The father and two brothers died. The boy returned home. The girl and her mother and the boy and his mother all survived. The girl’s father has disappeared.
This is what happened today, along with the welcome home of the prisoner, in Umm el Fahem. While I had a leisurely morning, took my clothes to the laundry, taught my students, ate pomegranates and ramenesque noodles, and played twenty questions.
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