Here is Ola beginning to interview Afifa in her bedroom. Her grandson and his wife are listening appreciatively to her recollections. Even though I understood virtually nothing of what was being said, it was evident that she was enjoying sharing her memories, and her enjoyment was shared by her relatives and Mohammed and Ola from the gallery, who were doing the interviewing and recording. During the course of the hour, we were served candy, coffee, juice, and two delicious kinds of cake.

Suzi's last night

Sunday

This is Suzi’s last night. We are going out to dinner shortly, with Said and his wife Siham. The original plan was lunch, but that, of course, got changed. Eiman and Layla took us to a market in a nearby town to look for some glass decorations that we’d seen at Said’s house, and that Suzi wanted very much to bring home as gifts. The quest began rather belatedly, largely due to a very long wait at the bank. We never did find the glass, but did eventually stumble upon a shop with other glass pieces, that were, according to the young man, from Hebron. I bought several pieces, and so did Suzi, although she was sadly disappointed not to find what she was looking for.

It was too late for lunch when we returned, hence the change to dinner plans, and not including the staff, who would already have gone home. I hope they are not disappointed. Also, Suzi, when she discovered that the restaurant they were planning to take us to did not have Middle Eastern food ( I heard a mention of spaghetti) said to Said that she really wanted to have food typical of here. So we’ll find out soon where they are taking us.

Update: , Said just called to say they’ll be an hour later than they thought!

One of the restaurants here, el Babour, is renowned throughout the country. I have heard it referred to as the best Arab food in Israel, and have also heard it referred to as the best food in Israel! It’s also very expensive. When I was googling Umm el Fahem before I left home, I came across a video, in Aabic, that appeared to be a food show, and a tour of a restaurant. I am assuming that it was El Babour. I’d be curious to go there, but don’t know if I will find the occasion. Perhaps I can take Said and Sihan there at some point.

Suzi treated the staff to a lunch a few days ago, gave money to Kamle who gave instructions to two of the roof guys. An hour later, they hadn’t returned, and we began to wonder. But all worked out well.

Yesterday, I’d been planning to work with Mohammed in the exhibit, discussing some of the photos, when he suddenly, very apologetic, explained that it wouldn’t work out I have become so used to plans changing that it really didn’t bother me. Especially when he and Ola explained what the conflict was, and invited me to come along. They were going to interview and record the memories of an 80 year old woman, part of the ongoing work of the archives to preserve the history of the area.

We drove up and downhill for about 10 minutes, and then arrived at a building where the woman’s grandson was waiting outside to escort us in. The interview took about hour, during which we were served candy, then tea, then juice, then two kinds of cake. Afifa, the woman, sat on her bed, next to her younger sister, with two pillows propped under her feet on the floor. Although she used a cane when she got up to pose for still pictures, she was extremely spry and animated during the whole interview. Here are the words I caught during the hour: Umm el Fahem, Abu Shakra (Said’s family name) Moshe Dayan, and Palestine. Nevertheless it was an engrossing experience. There was Mohammed, Ola, who did the interviewing, Afiifa, her sister Jehad,(who’d previously been interviewed) the grandson, a woman who I was told was his wife, another woman I was told was a cousin, and myself. The whole group, save for me, was frequently laughing, and the grandson and wife seemed intrigued by whatever she was relating. I wondered how much of her memories they’d heard before. I hope I get a chance to hear some of what was said from Mohammed, When I remarked about how animated she was, and all the laughter, he commented that the older people were always happy when they talked about the past. That has me curious, as I was assuming that they must have some pretty negative memories about how they have been treated, by the British and by the Isreali govemment.

A part of the Memories exhibit is contemporary color photos of older couple and individuals, posing in their own living rooms. In the room is also a set -up of a traditional living space, with cushions and pillows on the floor. Although all of the peoples’ homes we’ve visited, before now, are quite modern, with sofas rather than mattresses on the floor, (but with plenty of pillows.) Afifa's house did have mattresses and pillows, upon which her grandson and his wife sat, although we sat in chairs, and she on her bed. Talking today with Mohammed, he asked me what the floor cushions were, His translator said mattresses, and I couldn’t think of any other word, but mattress doesn’t seem right. They are furniture, not beds. Although I wonder if perhaps they are at times used as beds, as well, or once were. I remember, many years ago, when I stayed with a Moroccan family in Casablanca (same one that butchered the sheep on the roof) that the apartment had three rooms, one for cooking, one for the women, one for the men to hang out in, and the same furniture that we sat on by day were our beds at night.

Yesterday, Saturday, was also the day for art classes, followed by my children’s Engllsh class. That has gone so well, the kids are so enthusiastic. We made picture flash cards with simple words on them, like face, star, tree. Then we played a simple game where I called a word and they had to find the right card. I sent them home with the cards, although last week I kept them, worried that they might forget to bring them again. I am afraid that this might be my last class with them, although it’s only the third. I believe the vacation week will encompass two Saturdays, and that will be it.

Right now, as every night, the muezzzins are singing out their calls to prayers, which are broadcast. It’s really a pleasant sound, even though I don’t know what they’re saying. Actaully, it’s probably better that I don’t understand. Sometimes, more than one of them are singing together, in seeming harmony, and it sounds really beautiful. I don’t know whether it’s intentional, or coincidental, that they are simultaneous and sound so good together. Said and Siham’s house is just behind a Mosque, and the sound was startlingly loud when we were there one night . I expect you get used to it if you live with it. Or perhaps appreciate it all the more.

Here are the kiffiylah (Arab headwear) and the tallis (Jewish prayer shawl), tied together by Farid at the end of his performance piece.

After the baby party, these are some of the relatives playing around. The older guys were giving the younger ones, and each other, rides.

These very appealing young men really wanted to pose for me. I'm glad they did.

Here I am at the bakery, down at the bottom of the hill near the junction with the main road. Suzi discovered the bakery and showed it to me. Glad she did, but also glad it's a long walk, which will keep me from going every day! There is a smaller bakery, though, just down the street from us. Behind me is the Jewish couple we met who comes here frequently to shop at the bakery and at the produce souk.

Of olives, performance art, a baby party, an off to school party, and an engagement party

Yesterday morning, Suzi and I, as planned, went to a nearby daycare center. It had been arranged for us to visit. Said had asked Suzi to help the staff with some art projects. Suzi has been quite clear that she doesn’t have the background to do teacher training, of either our staff here or the daycare staff, but has also strived to think of things that might motivate them.

The daycare director, however, with whom we’d been scheduled to meet, wasn’t available, and so we rescheduled for today. A staff person did give us a tour of the place, with which we were both favorably impressed. In the first room were kids under a year, and staffers were feeding them. Suzi bent down to say hello, and one kid burst into tears!

The children in the next room were eating the same porridge type substance, but were feeding themselves. We continued on to the three, four, and five year old rooms. The environments were not so different from what you’d see in the U.S. I noticed a housekeeping corner, with boxes of products, labeled, of course, in Hebrew and Arabic.

What struck me most of all was that in almost every room there was some project relating to olives. One group was putting olive stickers on trees on paper. One room had actual olives in jars, which the kids had made. There were olive charts, and dried olives for kids to count. The staffer, who explained to Eiman, who translated for us, said that olives were very important to the culture, and children learned early the whole process, of picking to jarring them. I was really impressed at how it came through into the curriculum.

In the 5 year old class, the group was sitting in a circle, singing songs. Eiman began singing and doing the hand motions with them. She later said it reminded her of her childhood. I wanted to learn the lyrics, and have asked her to teach them to me. It was kind of similar to Heads, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes, and I am hoping to go back and teach it to them.

We were supposed to return there this morning, and were literally heading out the door when Kamle, kind of off-handedly, said that the director had called and said she wasn’t available to meet with us today. I wonder, as Suzi remarked whether Kamle would have remembered to mention it to us if we hadn’t said where we were going.

It isn’t clear to us if this center is for families where the mothers are working, or to help women so they can find jobs outside the home Suzi has only a few days left, and doesn’t feel like she needs to visit the center again. We already did have a nice tour, and don’t actually need to meet with the director. I would like to go back, and will try to arrange to visit again, as I still have a few weeks here.

Instead of going to the daycare center, Suzi and I walked all the way down the hill, almost to the junction, to the souk. (vegetable and other markets.) She had particularly wanted to show me a bakery she’d discovered. It was much larger than the one nearer us, which I have been frequenting, and in addition to sweet stuff and breads, had savory pastries filled with cheese, potato, and mushrooms. We wouldn’t have known that, except that a man and woman, who did not look like they came from Umm el Fahem described them to us. We began talking. They were Jewish, going to visit someone, and were buying huge quantities of pastries several boxes full. They said they came here regularly, to the bakery and to buy produce. I don’t know how common it is for Jews to come here to shop, but it was heartening to see an older couple (read, older than me) shopping here, and interacting in quite friendly manner with the locals. We told them about the gallery, and they told us about the crafts market in Tel Aviv and an upcoming olive festival in Daliat el Carmel, a Druze village.

On the way back we stopped in some of the clothing stores. Some of the modest Muslim clothing is quite stylish and beautiful. One store had bolts of fabric as well as clothes, and I had Suzi ask, in Hebrew, if they could make something for me. I’d had that done in Thailand, some years ago. But apparently they only sold the fabric, did not do any tailoring. The clothes seem mostly to be from Turkey.

.We did make it to Haifa, last night, to the Museum and Farid’s performance piece, but just barely. Traffic along the way was horrendous, I gather that it is always bad, but was worse than usual last night, because it was Thursday. (ie, the beginning of the weekend.)

Along the way, ever interested in improving his English skills, Mohammed was drivsing and simultaneously using his electronic translatro. We drove past Al Meggido (remember – Armegeddon) and he wanted the word for archeological site. For at least 10 minutes afterward, he kept muttering the word “archeological” under his breath, over and over, to get it right. Pretty funny. Then, when Suzi remarked that the driving must be very frustrating, it took about 5 minutes to define the word, and then Mohammed kept repeating “frustrating.” He said, though, that he wasn’t frustrated, and that if we didn’t make it to the event, we would just do something else, perhaps go to the beach!

Along in the car with us was Farid’s wife, Reem. When I’d met her at the gallery a few days earlier, she’d had their three year old with her. Now, in the car, she got a phone call, that her brother, who’d been asked to pick up the daughter at day car that day, had forgotten. She didn’t seem particularly distraught, and I gather the situation had been resolved.

I don’t know if any of us would have gone to the Museum if Mohammed hadn’t explained to me the Farid was doing this piece. I was immediately interested, of course, as was Suzi, and Mohammed said he’d see if he could go, and bring us with him. I don’t know if Reem had been planning to go, or not. She is a school counselor, in a middle school. We talked a bit about how she’d talked with staff, and the staff with the students, after the recent murders.

As we arrived at the museum, a man, who I assumed to be Farid, was lying on the floor, chest bare, black hood over his face, and what seemed to be chains attached to his arms. After a few minutes he rose up. The chains were actually license plates, There was red tape on the enclosing him in a box, and green tape running in a line to the end of the floor and up the wall. Hanging on the wall were a kaffiyah, (an Arabic scarf, worn by men as a headdress) and a tallis, the Jewish cloth that is worn by men during prayer. On either side the cloths were two video screens, each showing a video of a cat. We later found out, from Mohammed, who’d made the video for Farid, that he uses the cat as his symbol. Said, we were told, uses the horse as his symbol. When Suzi asked Mohammed where he’d made the video of the cats, he responded, in the archive(where they transcribe the videos of the elders). Suzi, who doesn’t particularly like cats, said, you brought the cats into the archive? Mohammed, laughing, responded that no, he got the images from U Tube!

I wasn’t quite sure of the symbolism of much of what Farid did, but it was clear when he ripped up the tape that he was removing the border between Israel and the territories. At the end of the piece, he took the kaffiyah and tallis and tied them together. License plates, according to Suzi, used to be different for Jews and Arabs in the country. Said later told Suzi that the license plates in the piece represented identity. My interpretation was that he was breaking out of his chains; whether that was Farid’s intention, I don’t know, but perhaps will have a chance to ask him later on. He did seem truly appreciative that we had come to the performance, and I am very glad we went as well.

Afterwards, we spent about 15 minutes walking through the museum, not wanting to keep Mohammed waiting overly long. One exhibit had to do with lines in various artists’ work, and I am guessing that Farid’s piece might have fit in with that theme. There was another performance piece, afterwards, that involved wearing headphones and following directions, and taking a 20 minute stroll with the artist. Although we were encouraged to participate, we declined, as the narration was in Hebrew.

On the drive home, much quicker with no traffic, we talked some more with Mohammed. We already knew that he had two jobs. In addition to being the compute person at the gallery, he also works with computers at a middle school, the same school where Farid is a teacher. And it was through Farid that he got to work at the gallery.He told us that he is taking what sounds like a filmmaking course at the Technikon school in Haifa, which meets one night a week. And, he said, he is a husband, and that it is hard work to be a good husband. He told us that they didn't have children, "yet"" and that he and his wife were married much later than most Muslims, who tend to marry early.

Today, we attended two parties! One in the afternoon, and one in the early evening. The first was to celebrate the birth of a new baby, to a niece of Saids. The party was mostly if not all family, which of course doesn’t mean it was small. It was at the same place as the party we went to a couple of weeks ago, for the man who doesn’t have cancer after all, and whose name I keep forgetting.We were introduced to many relatives, saw Farid and Reem and their little girl, Maria, again, and Farid thanked us one again for attending the performance last night.

The father of the new baby’s family is in the meat business, and the owners of the biggest meat distributor in the area. And also, I believe, the owner of one of the malls in town. A small mall, by U.S. standards, but big forUmm el Fahem. So, as you’d expect, there was lots of delicious meat, and plenty, although less than usual of the accompanying salads. And delicious hand made French fries. And then sweet cakes, then fruit and nuts.

At the last party, I’d had difficulty eating the meat, had asked for a knife, and then was given what was apparently the only knife on the premises. This time, I realized that everyone ate all the meat with their hands, which made things much simpler.

They had a clown mc again for the kids, who led them in all kinds of games and songs, a conga line, gave them balloons, etc. All the children had had their faces painted, even some tiny ones that I am surprised sat still for the process.

Home for a couple of hours, to rest. Rawan, meanwhile, was off to some kind of orientation for students from Umm el Fahem heading to the University in Jerusalem. Sihan had said she was going home to take a nap before the goodbye party for Rawan.

Kamle picked us up, and we headed over to the house, along with Eiman and Layla. So it was a fairly low key gathering. Sihan is taking Rawan to school tomorrow, for the third time this week, this time to stay. Sihan had not taken a nap, she had baked a cake. Two cakes, actually. One was very similar to a Boston cream pie, but with a whipped cream rather than custard filling. She gave me the recipe, which was from a Hebrew cookbook. I described Boston Cream Pie, and she said, yes you could also make it with a custard filling, and then brought out a box of what I gather makes the custard, which should make a good present for someone, someone who reads Hebrew. (or Arabic.) Anyone interested? Jill, I am thinking of you.

After eating the two cakes, some other pastries, candy, and fruit, and drinking soda, tea, and coffee(not just a choice of, but each, all offered subsequently) , we moved into the next room, where the large screen tv was. We spent probably the next hour watching the video of Rawan’s sister’s engagement party, which had taken place a month or two ago. The house is still decorated in bunting and lights from that party. Even though we fast forwarded it through many parts, it was still quite long. I would have expected to be bored, but in fact I was fascinated. Her sister danced through nearly the entire event, first by herself, then surrounded by the women of her family, then joined by the women of the groom’s family. After quite a while, the groom and all the men entered. I say bride and groom, but in fact it was the two fiances, because they are not yet married, and probably won’t be for another couple of years. The engagement party is as significant here as a wedding is for us. Toward the end, the bride and groom danced together, surrounded by everyone else.

The event ended with the fiancé presenting Rawan’s sister with an awful lot of gold and diamond jewelry, followed by the members of the man’s family doing the same, and with each family group posing for the photographers. I didn’t see any food in the video, although I can’t imagine that the occasion didn’t include some.

Afterwards, I felt bad that we’d spent so much time watching the video of her sister’s party when this was supposed to be a goodbye party for Rawan, and said so to her. She said it was okay, she didn’t mind, and I hope that’s true.

Suzi had brought a ring watch that was hers and that Rawan had earlier admired, as a present. It was very appropriate, as Rawan had said they emphasized time management at the orientation. I contributed, with Kamle, Eiman, and Layla, for a group gift that the girls bought. It was a combination of items, some collapsible storage boxes, a jewelry box ( I have never noticed Rawan wearing jewelry, but I guess she must) a lamp, and a Snow White Planter(!) Sihan, Rawan’s mother, promptly put the ring watch into the jewelry box.

The most remarkable part of the party, though, was that Rawan was not wearing a headscarf, the first time I had seen her without one, although neither her mother or sister wears one at home. I almost didn’t recognize her, and am afraid I stared for a few minutes. She has beautiful, cascading curly hair, and I was tempted to compliment her on it, but it somehow didn’t feel appropriate.

In the video of her sister’s party, too, she was without headscarf and wearing a short bright green dress. I continue to be fascinated by the culture of the headscarf, who wears one, or not, and why, what it signifies to them.

I looked online today, trying to get a better sense of the significance of wearing or not wearing one. What I came across were a number of videos instructing people how to arrange and wear them. The tone of them was quite “girly,” for lack of a better term, and seemed at odds to me, once again, with the concept of wearing one for modesty. The video instruction reminded me, in a way, of one installation I had seen at the museum in Haifa last night. It had consisted of a series of video screens, each one showing a fake instruction video of a woman painting her nails with a different design. Each design was supposedly in the style of a different artist, although I must confess I didn’t actually see the resemblance, except possibly for Frank Stella, if indeed I was looking at the right one. But it was very clever, and well done, the mocking instruction, supposed fashion, supposed reference to well -known artists. And I have to say, the headscarf videos were equally entertaining, particularly the one with a `````baby crying in the background, and the mother/instructor virtually ignoring her.

On the agenda for tomorrow: art classes for kids in the morning, followed by my English class for whichever kids are interested. I hope I can also reschedule the cancelled visit to that family’s house, the one where Kamle had neglected to tell me about the cancellation. Then, hopefully, a couple of hours working with Mohammed on his English and descriptions for the photos. Then Suzi’s last presentation to the art teachers, And then, in theory, another English lesson, with someone whose name, I am embarrassed to say, I can’t read in my calendar. Well, I hope whoever she is shows up.

That reminds me of a funny incident last night – you’ll perhaps remember that Arabic names all have a meaning. Kamle means perfect. So to something Mohammed said yesterday, I responded, Kamle, That’s perfect, right?

Mohammed’s response – Kamle perfect? No, Kamle is crazy!! I believe he meant it in an affectionate way!

A few photos, now that I've figured it out (I think!)

Ok, I am going to attempt to add more photos to the blog now that

I have figured out that it just takes a very long time for them to download, or upload, or whatever it is that they do. If you are interested in seeing more pictures, do check out my facebook page, where I have been able to post them more easily. These three, in no particular order, are, a store window in a local mall (note the contrasting fashions, in the same store window) the entrance to the gallery, and, a photo of a photo in the gallery's permanent exhibit, which documents through photos and videos, life in Umm el Fahem from the 19th century to the present. This is a pomegranate juice seller.

Suzi and I are, in theory, going to Haifa tonite, to see a performance piece by Said's younger brother. More to come...

More altered plans, and a day trip to Tel Aviv

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.

"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.