Spring in the West Bank

When we were out walking near Taybeh a few weeks ago, we came upon this shepherd with a newborn baby lamb. We had actually heard the lamb being born as we walked down the hill and were amazed to come upon the mother cleaning her baby. The shepherd was nice enough to let us take pictures of what to me seemed an entirely miraculous event. Although, I realize it's probably pretty common for people who grew up on farms or around animals. Still, it's an image of the West Bank rarely seen in the news. I was even more amazed to see the baby lamb take its first steps a few moments later. That afternoon, a man rode by with a dead sheep, probably taking it home for dinner. So, it was a complete circle of life that day.

Morning the light

In Arabic, the answer to Good Morning is Light Morning. Half of the alphabet is divided into sun letters and half into moon letters. Ein is a letter of the alphabet, an eye, and a spring. The word for letter (something that is written) is also the word for destiny. Lovely, eh? Almost makes up for having to learn how roll a g sound.

On Hospitality

The Palestinian culture is a culture of hospitality. It catches me off guard. It's hard for me to shake out of my self-contained, hyper-independent existence. We stayed the night in a village in the West Bank. We arrived soaking wet and cold from the rain. The women of the house spent the night finding us clothes and serving us endless cups of tea. In the morning, the oldest woman of the house, who must have been in her 70's came into our room early in the morning. She sat down at the end of my bed and tucked the end of my blankets around her, grinned at me, and patted my hand. I stared at her awkwardly, trying desperately to piece together some coherent Arabic words to say to her and coming up short.

"This is a very high honor," my colleague explained. "The oldest member of the household is the most respected, and so the most respected member of the household is coming to check on us as the first thing she does today."

I felt honored, but continued to stare inanely trying to figure out to express my thanks. I'm not really sure how to repay the hospitality I'm receiving here.

Scenes from Easter in Jerusalem

I'm sorry to take such a long break from posting. I've been out hiking in the desert the last few weekends, and I've gotten a little behind on everything. To make up for it, here are pictures from the Easter madness in Jerusalem. My fiancee, B.'s and my plan was to go to the Old City and find the chaos, which we did. Here are a few of the thousands of worshipers waiting to enter the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, where Jesus' tomb is believed to be. The different Christian denominations have historically not been able to share the space, so almost 1,000 years ago, the Ottomans handed the keys to the church over to two prominent Muslim families, who, to this day, are in charge of opening the church every morning and locking it at night. (Really!) So, on the Saturday before Easter, thousands of people come to wait for the church to be unlocked. Once it is, there is a huge ceremony. This picture was taken while we were pinned to the wall covering our ears waiting for hundreds of bagpipes to parade through.

After everyone is let in, they take candles and light them inside the church, and then bring them out into the world to symbolize the resurrection. Most of the pilgrims wandering around yesterday looked a little bewildered by the whole thing. And the shopkeepers looked like they couldn't wait for the day to be over. After a few hours of fighting the crowds, B. and I collapsed onto the bus with our backpacks stuffed full of herbs, frankincense, fruit and a new blender. It was a strange and lovely spectacle in this city that seems stranger and more beautiful by the day.