Ahlan wa Sahlan

One of my best friends, Liz, and I have the same feelings about friends: we love it when they can come together and meet one another. We are happiest when we can gather all of those we love in one place for a time of friendship, food, and laughter. There have been so many times during the past nine months (what?! where has the time gone?) that I have thought, "How I wish so-and-so were here to experience this with me!" or been with a friend here and considered how a friend or family member back home would enjoy this person as much as I do.

This past Sunday (Pentecost Sunday, in fact), a bunch of people I love gathered for a BBQ. That's right, Alma (the other YAGM who volunteers at the school with me) and I planned a traditional BBQ! Of course, it was only a success because everyone came together and participated: some of the men grilled the meat (OH MY GOSH IT WAS SO GOOD!); myself and some of the women prepared the meat, putting it on kabobs and molding it into patties; some looked after the little children; some helped set up the tables; and everyone brought a dish to share (representing a family specialty or regional favorite). It was a great mix of people, of food, and of activities.

I'm so blessed to have the community I have here. It's not simply that I have people who I'm friends with because I'm here, but that I have deep relationships that have formed despite my only being here for a short time. These are people God has taught me so much through, and that I would choose to be with no matter if I was in the States or in the Middle East. These people are my family.


One of the first phrases I learned when I arrived in Jerusalem and Bethlehem was ahlan wa sahlan, which basically means "You are welcome". People would say it all the time, especially in the first few months. When you arrive somewhere or meet someone new- ahlan wa sahlan. Over time it grew to be a normal phrase without any special significance. "Welcome"- we can say it without actually feeling a deep sense of welcomingness, can't we? I know I have.

And yet reflecting on that word again now, it means so much more. Ahlan wa sahlan means more than a mere "hello" or "welcome"; it means "you are desired here", "you are a vital part of this community". Now, in my last months, I finally realize this. I finally feel this.

I think what changed this perspective for me was the BBQ, at the point when people started to arrive. It was a bunch of people I care about very much, all together and the only words that could sum up my delight in seeing them was ahlan wa sahlan, "You are desired here. You are a vital part of my life and this community. This time together would not be complete without you."

May we experience the warmth of the spirit of ahlan wa sahlan and share that love of God to all whom we encounter for either five minutes, ten months, three years, or forever.

Alma and I making the meat into patties to be grilled (irony being that Alma is a vegetarian :)

Plenty of help in the kitchen preparing the meat for the grill. 

Julie having a laugh as the grills get ready for some delicious pork and chicken kabobs.

I was greeted with a hug and an exclamation of "Oh! There's my other daughter!"

I was the designated meat pusher (every BBQ has one). People were going to finish that chicken, dang it!

A medley of foods from around the world. Everyone brought either a family specialty or a regional favorite. We had jello, pasta salads, tabouleh,  and much more than I can remember!

I have become known as the "Bacon Girl" this year, as everyone knows how much I love bacon. This has resulted in Pastor Imad always seeming to show up with bacon (thick grilled) whenever I am at a BBQ :) I'm spoiled...but I won't argue!

What better than some card games after you've finished eating?  First a friendly game of Uno...

Then a more intense game of Halli Galli, which is kind of (but not really) like Slap Jack... but with a bell... and way more concentration involved. It really gets your adrenaline pumping!
[Apparently a couple of us have gotten so good we can play with our eyes closed ;) ]

[Photos all by Alma Gast]

Perspectives and multiple narratives

I have plans to do a future post in which I explain how my history undergraduate degree prepared me for the work I'm doing this year (see parents everywhere, your child doesn't have to get a career that directly stems from their college major!), but until then I have to share with you a quote brought to my attention on a blog by Dr. John Fea, one of my former History Professors:

Historians are not the guardians of universal values, nor can they deliver "the verdict of history"; they must strive to understand each age in its own terms, to take on its own values and priorities, instead of imposing ours.  All the resources of scholarship and all the historian's powers of imagination must be harnessed to the task of bringing the past back to life--or resurrecting it....
--John Tosh, The Pursuit of History (New York: Longman, 2002), 7.

(See post here.)

It seems even more poignant to me now, as I sit at school, just following a lecture and discussion I led for the 11th grade on the topics on ELCA theology on Creation (care) and the relationship of Science and Christianity. As I've grown I've realized how our professors and teachers, and really anyone we encounter, can bring us a truth. Yet, that truth may not be the end-all-be-all perfect-explanation-of-life. I gave a lecture to these very bright eleventh graders (in their second language, and they still engaged in dialogue! Can I just say I love the 11th grade here?!) and I had a great time, but I definitely felt that I, while bringing another perspective to the table, was not being accepted as the "guardian of universal values"...and I was so proud! 

In a class during my sophomore year of college (it was probably, "Created and Called for Community") we talked about wisdom, and how the true mark of wisdom is surrendering your grip on the universal truth and considering that what another person is telling you may be correct. At the same time, though, that wisdom requires not just believing everything anyone else tells you. Wisdom is wrestling with the truth.

So, looking back at that first quote, I realize how much it applies to life for me here in the Middle East. You could replace "historian" with "missionary living in accompaniment". Regardless of where you are, as a missionary you do not "bring Jesus" (or, heaven forbid, "the right way to live") to anyone. God exists just fine without any of my help (and, in all honesty, despite it). However, what I have been able to do this year is consider another perspective on God, another way in which people experience the Divine.

Seriously, how great is that?!

Part of accompaniment that makes relationships so much work (both during this year, and my life back in the States) is that you have to wrestle with the truth. I can't assume unquestioningly that my community is correct about everything, but I also can't ignore what they have to say because I'm "right". (As an aside, because I know the "Truth" gets to be tricky when we talk about religion, I'm not talking about pluralism...I'm talking about humility in knowing that we don't know it all.)

This year I've been challenged to take life in the Middle East on its own terms. I can't come in with my American perspective, my paradigmatic lens, and judge my community based on my imposed values (this, of course, is not to say that there aren't values that are shared by my community here and my community back home). I can't lie and say that there aren't days when I wonder, "Why can't [x] be like it is in America?" but I quickly realize how silly I sound. It's ok for me to miss things back home, but I wouldn't want my community here in Palestine and Israel to change to be the same. They hold too many values, priorities, and truths from which we can and must learn.

[Shout out to Cait, I've used big T truth and CCC in one post. Messiah College Sophomore Year win.]

Sunday Musings: Thoughts from Church

I'm going to try to post every Sunday until July in hopes to jot down a few ideas, not enough for full posts, to let you all in on what I'm thinking each week. This first installment comes from the Scripture and hymns from the church service today at Christmas Lutheran in Bethlehem where I plan to now be a regular attendee (I've been church hopping to different Lutheran churches for the most part, but now I think I'm going to stay at the one in Bethlehem, down the street from Manger Square).

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I think it's interesting how certain passages in Scripture speak to us differently based on context. This can be seen in how different communities may find relevance in particular readings of the Bible, but I have also found it to be true in how I experience the Bible based on my own context, location, and life happenings. I was recently reading a book where the author pointed out that the amazingness of the Bible is not that it happened, but it still happens. The Spirit continues to breathe life into our world and our reading of Scripture and while the Bible comes from a historic, literary, and cultural context distinct from ours, God unites it all and continues to work through God's Word.

Today we read from Psalm 119: 81-96:

My soul has longed for your salvation; I have put my hope in your word.

My eyes have failed from watching for your promise, and I say, "When will you comfort me?"

I have become like a leather flask in the smoke, but I have not forgotten your statutes.

How much longer must I wait? When will you give judgment against those who persecute me?

The proud have dug pits for me; the do not keep your law.

All your commandments are true; help me, for they persecute me with lies.

They had almost made an end of me on earth, but I have not forsaken your commandments.

In your loving kindness, revive me, that I may keep the degrees of your mouth.

O Lord, your word is everlasting; it stands firm in the heavens.

Your faithfulness remains from one generation to another; you established the earth and it abides.

By your decree these continue to this day, for all things are your servants.

If my delight had not been in your law, I should have perished in my affliction.

I will never forget your commandments, because by them you give me life.

I am yours; oh, that you would save me! For I study your commandments.

If I had read this passage last year, perhaps I would have applied it to a particularly busy week, which there is no shame in doing. Maybe I would have sought God's comfort for a strain in a relationship, or asked God to be revived from the stress of classes and work. Yet, the pleading in this Psalm struck me as I realized my place among my Palestinian friends and coworkers at the church. Imagine reading this Psalm as a Palestinian, suffering all of the effects of the Occupation of the West Bank (or Gaza). There are many faithful God-lovers throughout Palestine who have put their hope in God. When, God, will there be comfort for the Palestinian situation under Occupation? When will hope be more tangible? "I am yours; oh, that you would save me!"

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At the end of the church service today we sang the hymn, "I'm But a Stranger Here" (that is hymn #238 in our Arabic book here, but I have no idea if it corresponds to the LBW back home. Can anyone find out what hymn this is or if it's any of our ELCA hymnals? Answer in the comments section, please!). I know there is much deeper meaning that can be taken from hymns but sometimes I take them at face value when I first sing them. The second verse of this hymn was not different...

"What though the tempest rage, Heaven is my home

Short is my pilgrimage, Heaven is my home

Time's cold and wild wintry blast soon shall be over past

I shall reach home at last, Heaven is my home."

As some of you know, it is SO COLD this time of year in Palestine and Israel! I have managed to figure out a schedule of when to put the space heaters on, and in what rooms so as to get it a little less cold in my apartment, but it is still a wee bit chilly. So, yes, the cold wintry blast soon shall be over! 

Also, "short is my pilgrimage". As this past week marked the halfway point for me, I have been keenly aware that one year is both a very long time, and really short. There are so many amazing things I've done and been able to participate in, but soon I will leave. I will return home to you all back in the States and be able to share my stories in person, but how will I do that? This is a question that has started to creep into my mind.

Ah, and then, "heaven is my home". That's kind of the point of the whole hymn. Yesterday I was able to Skype back home to the Seminary community and talk about YAGM for a few minutes. Before I went "on air" I caught up with my friend Julie, who now works for the Admission Office at LTSG, and we talked about hope and idealism. I have so much hope for this region and the relationships between Palestinians and Israelis and between Jews, Christians, and Muslims. Perhaps it is very idealistic to think that peace could come to this area in the next 50 years, but I can't give up that vision. Sure it's not easy, but if we think it's not possible, then what is the point? If we give up the work for peace because it doesn't look like it can ever happen, why do anything at all? Again today, I met some EAPPI (Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel) volunteers working in Bethlehem and we talked about this necessity for hope. Sometimes this is really challenging. The volunteer I talked with most mentioned that before church they had put some time in at the Bethlehem checkpoint and it didn't seem like they accomplished much...but they had helped a little boy get through to Israel for kidney dialysis. That's a pretty big deal, especially for that young child. But even the hope that brings can get get clouded by the daily struggles- the rest of the things that happened that worry, stress, sadden us.

The hymn today reminded me that there is hope, both for now and also for the future. At the beginning of my newsletter I have a quote from a the poem "Passover Remembered" by Alla Bozarth-Campbell: I am with you now and I am waiting for you. Heaven is my home, but heaven is also here, although seemingly hidden at times.

"Comfort, comfort my people"

This post was originally written on 11 December 2011. I wrote it immediately after my experience, and then I sat on it. I've now gone back to re-read the post and feel that it needs to be posted. It is slightly outdated (or so it seems in the fast-paced world we live in), but still, I feel, relevant. I'd enjoy hearing your responses either in the comment box or by email.

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Today I was able to worship at the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Beit Sahour, the church that sits on the campus of the school I volunteer with. Although most of the service is in Arabic, there were times when I was able to pick out words here and there; as usual, the pastor was helpful in translating certain parts (we do have a transliteration and translation of the liturgy as well) and in giving the readings. The guest preacher today, however, gave his sermon on a different text than those prescribed for today, and decided to speak on the New English Translation of the beginning of Isaiah 40 (v. 1-4) :

"Comfort, comfort my people,"

says your God.

"Speak kindly to Jerusalem, and tell her

that her time of warfare is over,

that her punishment is completed.

For the Lord has made her pay double for all her sins."

A voice cries out,

"In the wilderness clear a way for the Lord;

construct in the desert a road for our God.

Every valley must be elevated,

and every mountain and hill leveled.

The rough terrain will become a level plain,

the rugged landscape a wide valley."

Sitting in the pew, in a church of Palestinian friends who are more than hospitable, I was on the verge of tears. The first two verses hit me solidly in the heart, perhaps now more than ever because of some of the political talk I've been hearing from back in the States regarding the Palestinian people. From what I learned, the preacher spoke about the first line and who exactly "my people" are. When Isaiah 40 was written it was addressed to Jerusalem, a specific group, but today many of us would agree God commands ("Comfort", in the Hebrew, is in the imperative form, therefore a command) us to comfort all people, as we are all God's children (for reference, see the gospel of Jesus). We can read Isaiah 40 as a reminder that God wants us to comfort ALL PEOPLE.


Isaiah 40 also struck me at the lines that proclaim that Jerusalem's "time of warfare is over, that her punishment is completed." I haven't made much mention of it in prior posts, but living here is tough. No, I'm not scared for my safety; instead, it's tough because there is a division in the mentality of some here (and around the world) that says that there are some people who are "God's people" and some who are not. Right now, the time of warfare and punishment are not over, at least, you wouldn't think it was if you travelled through the West Bank/Palestine. There are military checkpoints not only between the West Bank and the State of Israel, but throughout the West Bank between towns and villages. [Edit 1/26/12: As of two weeks ago, my usual bus transport ceased making certain usual stops along its route because the buses are not allowed to pick up or drop off people in certain parts of the immediate Bethlehem area because they are different "Areas". Area A: Controlled and Administered by the Palestinian Authority. Area B: Controlled by the State of Israel, Administered by the PA. Area C: Controlled and Administered by the State of Israel.] This week Newt Gingrich claimed that Palestinians are terrorists. Have there been Palestinians who did acts of terrorism? Yes (as are there Americans, Israelis, Brits, Australians, Russians, Brazilians...every nationality). Should we ever stereotype one group based on the actions of a few? No. Yet, in media and in action, the punishment of all on the basis of the actions made by a few that are in no way connected to a majority of the whole, the punishment continues.

• It's difficult to think otherwise when women and men, young and old, from the West Bank, trying to seek medical care in East Jerusalem, are denied thoroughfare at a checkpoint. Essentially, denied their ability to either get healthier or lengthen their remaining days.
• It's difficult to think otherwise when you see young men and women holding high-powered weapons and making cars completely unload and get searched (or breeze right through) on the basis of ethnicity and visual religious affiliation.
• It's difficult when you hear of politicians back home using the situation over here for their political gain, not caring about the people behind their pandering. [Edit 1/26/12: It was the domino effect  as one after another of the politicians in the States tried to out-do the next in how much they disliked the Palestinians. How sad.] Ya haram. ("Oh, the shame.")

So then, how do we comfort people, God's command, in light of the fact that the punishment and warfare is not over? My computer defines "comfort" as being "a state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint", which may seem pretty radical if you apply it to the Palestinians (freedom from the constraint of prejudice, freedom from the literal constraints they face as being treated as second-class humans). There is a second definition, too: "consolation for grief or anxiety". We can take this as both providing care for after someone has been grieved, or as taking the steps and being proactive in preventing such grief and anxiety.


For me, this means speaking out. With stories, with experiences, with the images of real people. Quite often this is difficult for me; I don't like conflict and I don't like the fact that because I speak for the holding up of a section of God's children, the Palestinians, that there are some who may get angry. Now, please don't misunderstand me: being pro-Palestinian does not mean you are anti-Israeli. I consider myself both pro-Palestinian and pro-Israeli. I am pro-people loving. In my experience, the Palestinians are in need of more comforting at this time in order to get them to the same "state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint" that many Israelis already feel. (A Seminary professor once painted the picture of being a parent with two children; you love them equally. If one breaks their leg, you tend to that child more to help them be at the same level of well-being as the other child. You do not love one more than the other, but sometimes it means taking extra measures to care for one.)


So what does this comforting of the Palestinians look like? Well, many things involving the work for justice; for me, it means dealing with my fears of speaking out. For me, it means not only telling the stories and truths, but correcting the mistruths. In the Ten Commandments we hear that we should not bear false witness against anyone. Yet, in the interconnectedness of the Body of Christ, are we not also our sister and brother's keepers? If I allow someone to bear false witness without correcting it, am I not also to blame?

Over here, those of us who live, work, laugh, and cry with Palestinians have been extremely hurt by what has been said by public figures about the Palestinian people. Most recently, Newt Gingrich claimed that Palestinians are made up, terrorist, have a huge desire to destroy Israel, did not live here before Israel was established, and all belong to Hamas, and that "the burden to show a willingness to reach a peace accord with the Israelis lies squarely with the Palestinians". 

I can't, in one post, get into the complex history behind the people of this land, both Jewish, Christian, and Muslim, but you can rest assured that everything Newt Gingrich has had to say about Palestine is grossly misleading. These lies mislead some well-intentioned people but also create a mentality of fear and hatred, which stands as a wall infront of later efforts for the truth to be told.


So, in an effort to comfort God's people, let us try to fulfill the prophecy: "construct in the desert a road for our God. Every valley must be elevated, and every mountain and hill leveled. The rough terrain will become a level plain, the rugged landscape a wide valley." My hope is that together we can work for justice for all that turns the desert of conflict into a road that brings glory to God.

Photos: Nazareth

We arrived at the Basilica of the Annunciation close to sunset (around 4:30pm nowadays) and walked around the perimeter of the building before going inside. Around the outside is artwork from around the world depicting the Annunciation.

A beautiful series of stained glass depicting the Annunciation in the Basilica of the Annunciation in Nazareth.

Me standing in front of the Basilica of the Annunciation in Nazareth, over what is believed to be the childhood home of Mary. The Basilica is the largest in the Middle East and reminded me a lot of Saint Peter's in Rome.

A system of water ways has long since dried up, but now it's open to walk though.  The YAGMs took many photo opportunities, including this one :)

The YAGM crew took a ride on the Sea of Galilee and our boat guide cast out a net for fish. We didn't catch any fish, but we did enjoy dancing on the boat, which we had to ourselves, for the rest of the ride. The boat offered a nice rest and panoramic view of the sea.

A model of a door from Nazareth Village, a living history museum that recreates life during Jesus' time. Doors like these had a large opening and a small opening. The large door was only opened for camels and carts to get throught the city, the smaller door for people. Because a person would have to duck to get through the door, it offered protection should anyone invade. The smaller door is called the eye of the needle, perhaps what Jesus was referring to when he said, "It is easier for a camel to get through the eye of the needle than for a rich man to get into the kingdom of heaven." Of course, take this with a grain of salt. Check out this site for more on the "eye of a needle" reference.

Mary's Well in downtown Nazareth, where it is believed the Angel Gabriel visited Mary to tell her that she would bear the Son of God (Annunciation). 

The Greek Orthodox Church of the Annunciation (aka: Church of St. Gabriel) which is located over an underground spring that feeds into Mary's Well (pictured above).

Palestinian youth working on a project on a stairway along a main street in Nazareth.  Cue "Greatest Love of All" sung by Whitney Houston: "I believe the children are our future; teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside. Give them a sense of pride to make it easier."

Blessings and Future Posts Promised

I've been pretty silent on here for the past few weeks but hopefully that will be changing. Life has been moving along here quite well; there have certainly been bumps in the road, but it's an exciting road that I'm blessed to be riding on.

I have a few blog posts all lined up, just about written but not yet published, and my hope is to have them up this week. If you have a few minutes during your busy pre-Christmas week and the following Twelve Days of Christmas, take some of them to sit down and read my posts. Until then, here's a short recap of what's been going on...

School has continued per usual, with the students getting extra busy as exams began last week. Thursday is our last day of school (since we have school Monday-Thursday and Saturday, and we will have Christmas Eve off) and that will begin a two week vacation for the students. I'm excited for all of them to be done with exams; they've worked hard and deserve the time off. Of course, I won't mind the breather, either!

The Christmas celebrations in the place where it all began have finally begun! I'll be posting about the Christmas Tree lighting in Manger Square and other events that have taken place.

I've seen and experienced a lot, even in a months time. The weekend after Thanksgiving, our Jerusalem/West Bank YAGM group travelled north to Nazareth and the Galilee. It was an absolutely AMAZING experience and I'm so glad I was able to go. Pictures to come shortly!

Not everything has been sunshine and rainbows (although there was one day when I saw a double rainbow outside my apartment after a particularly rainy hour). In the next few weeks I want to share with you an experience I had travelling with the Bethlehem Bible College Choir during one of their Christmas concerts. Most of the trip was ridiculously fun, but I also witnessed a heartbreaking moment of "just how it is" over here with regards to the Occupation. The strength of the Palestinian people constantly amazes and inspires me.


So get ready for a plethora of posts, pictures, and maybe even some videos. May the remaining days of Advent keep you in patient anticipation and awe at the Incarnation and God's love for us :)

Q&A Corner

Every issue of my bimonthly newsletter contains the "Q&A Corner," where I answer the questions you've asked. The following two questions appeared in the November Newsletter, and were submitted by two inquiring minds from the States (thank you!). Leave the questions you want to be answered in the comment section below or send me an email. As always, comments and reflections are always encouraged in the comments section of this post.

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Q: Is it making a difference?

A: I appreciate the open-endedness of this question and will answer it two ways. First, is it making a difference to those I am serving? I like to think so. At school I help out teachers with grading, tutor children in class, and do administrative work. Am I absolutely necessary for this work? Probably not; everyone at the school is far more qualified than I am. However, my helping out with little tasks frees teachers up to cover more material or spend more time working on other classroom activities. One day, after simply helping the First Grade English teacher check the student’s worksheets, I was thanked because, if I hadn’t looked at the student’s papers they would have only gotten through one worksheet, whereas we were able to get through two that day. Overtime, that adds up.

Is it making a difference to me? More than I can put into words. Along with the impact the daily life has had on me (there will be more on this in the next newsletter), I am overwhelmingly privileged to gain perspective on the reality in Palestine. Being able to put another piece into the narrative helps me understand the Truth of the situation over here and its vast complexity. It makes a huge difference because, when I return, I will be able to bring these stories and share them with everyone back home. It’s much more impactful to the stories of Palestinians direct from the source than conjecture simply based on what I see from the outside. I know that my future ministry will benefit greatly from my time spent among my gracious hosts.

Q: Is it "scary" to be where you are?

A: This is a question I have been asked a lot, both before I left for Palestine and now that I’m living here, but I love to answer it because the answer sheds light on the reality of Palestine! Back in the States most of what I heard on the news regarding Palestine was that of violence, something that frustrates me even more now when I try to tell people that I’m living an average life over here. Are there acts of violence? Of course, just like there are in the United States. Yet, I hear much less of murders and violent robberies than I do back home in rural NY and PA. There are certain areas I would not go to at night, or during particular political events; the same as there are areas of Albany or Harrisburg or D.C. I would not go to at night, or during particular political happenings. We hear “Gaza” and think that the situation is black and white. They are either all good or all bad. It’s not that simple. Yet, even when there is violence, one has to look at the whole picture: why was this person led to act in this way? How have we contributed to this despair? 

There is a certain element over here that does scare me, but it is not particular to Palestine or Israel, or even the Middle East. It is the global epidemic that has allowed us to go on not seeing the face of God in our brothers and sisters, the fear of those who seem different than us. The lack of unity and unrecognized humanity is truly frightening, because it is once we fail to see how we are all equal and deserving of peace and happiness that a more tangible “scariness” is birthed.

More Adventures with Food & Language (and an introduction to Eid al-Adha)

I'm starting to realize there is a trend between my language mishaps and food. Luckily this one has a happier ending than the egg episode (which ended up fine, albeit thirty eggs richer)...

Yesterday I woke up to the sound of a rapping on my front door. It was slightly early for my day off, but I thought it could be something important from either my host Grandparents or other YAGM friends. I opened the door to find someone with what appeared to be a screen laying down on the gate in front of my apartment (ok, so honestly, it looked like a silk screening screen, or, for my archaeology friends, a sifter). I was wholly confused. I started to speak in a mixture of Arabic and English to try and figure out what my visitor wanted. I assumed he was there to see my host family (especially since he had that screen). Between the two of us we spoke perfect Arabic and English...unfortunately, neither of us actually understood much the other said. But then, as luck would have it, we began to make sense to each other and he showed that the screen he had was not, in fact, a screen, but a box! A box of delicious sweet bread!!! I bought one and hoped that what I asked him in Arabic was to bring the bread by every Saturday. Unfortunately I was not sure that I had conveyed the verbs and nouns I wanted to and so there was a chance he would either come today, or... not at all.

You see, this week is also a holiday week for my Muslim friends and neighbors: Eid al-Adha, which means "Feast of Sacrifice". It's one of the two biggests feasts of the year (with the other being the Eid after Ramadan). It commemorates Abraham's obedience to God in almost sacrificing his son. During the next few days people will be out in their finest clothes (and from what I've heard, doing lots of shopping...today is like Black Friday in the States). Then families will gather and butcher their finest animal, dividing it into three. One third is kept for the family, another third is given to relatives, friends and neighbors, and the last third is given to those in need.

So, I was not sure if the sweet bread was just being brought around for Eid al-Adha, in which case, next Saturday would not be filled with more sweet bread. [I realize also that "sweet bread" is not very descriptive, aside from you knowing that it is both sweet and bread. I liken it to an Easter bread (also, so very vague), perhaps with a hint of anise, but in the shape of a cinnamon-less cinnamon roll. Or, if you are familiar with the baked goods at Starbucks (I'm giving away too many of my secrets!) it's very much like their sweet bread (Mallorca Sweet Bread) without the powdered sugar (Miriam, you know what I'm talking about!). Either way, it's delicious! Trust me!]

Yet this morning I heard someone calling out in the street that runs by my apartment and I knew that the sweet bread was back! Today I bought five (I'm thinking ahead, see!) and hopefully have ensured that the bread will be back often.

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I should also add that this episode feeds into the running joke that is more truth than actual joke: At times when I am very hungry (at breakfast or lunch) and need to buy groceries in order to really eat, there seems to always be someone who brings food to my door. It's an absolutely wonderful thing, the hospitality and generosity of people, especially my host family, to bring down an extra plate of something. Last week, my host family (who live in the levels above my apartment), after finishing harvesting their olives, had a traditional Palestinian dish of pasta and some type of bean, a generous portion of which they sent down my way. Again, this morning, I realized I would have to go get groceries before I could have my breakfast. Then, I hear the man selling sweet bread. Perfect timing :)

Link to November Newsletter in Google Docs

In case you haven't received a copy of my November YAGM Newsletter, I've included the link to a version uploaded to Google Docs. Granted, the graphics aren't as stellar...but what can we do, eh?

I hope you enjoy reading the newsletter as much as I enjoyed putting it together. Please send me any questions or comments, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Peace!

Courtney's November 2011 YAGM Newsletter from Jerusalem/West Bank

Egg Salad, Boiled Eggs, Scrambled Eggs, Deviled Eggs, Macaroni Salad, French Toast, etc.

After volunteering at the school today, I decided to grab some groceries on my walk back to my apartment. It was a splendid idea and I love making the most of my trip home. I gathered up a shopping basket full of food and made my way to the deli section where there were mountains of eggs in giant egg cartons. This is it, I thought, it's my time to shine. I'm going to use my Arabic to order my eggs! And so I did, I ordered a whole dozen. Although I probably only needed six, I thought it would be worth it to get the extra now and have them in my fridge when need be. The gentleman helping to pack my eggs (in the carton with the pastic wrap) even gave me the option of which section of eggs I wanted. I didn't know the difference so I said I would take the bright white eggs in the larger container.  I went around the corner to grab my newest and final parcel for this grocery voyage and met with the man giving me quite a few more eggs than I thought I had asked for. I didn't count, but I thought, a dozen and a half or so, perhaps? That's nothing to make him rewrap the eggs for. 


Needless to say, I am now sitting with thirty bright, white eggs in my fridge, trying to come up with recipes to use them. Next time, I think I'll let go of my pride/embarrassment and just say that I don't really need two and a half dozen eggs. Oh, and I'm having French Toast in the morning ;)

C'est la vie! Roll with the punches...or eggs, as the case may be!

Embracing Mistakes

Have you ever done something, gone along with life like everything is peachy, and then realized you inadvertently hurt someone or otherwise screwed up? Sometimes there's not much you can do aside from trying to brush all the shattered pieces of glass into the same bucket and pray for the best, having faith that God is right beside you, guiding you.

Me? No, I never make mistakes! (I can't even pretend to not laugh at that.)

All month, in fact, all my life, I've made mistakes. You, too? You don't say! And all this time I was down on myself for being a unique peculiar oddball imperfect woman...you say that's all of us? (Minus the woman part for some.)

Sometimes you can fix these blunders, sometimes you can't. Either way, the only thing that keeps the peace within me is having faith that God will carry us through it (not without some effort on our own part, of course) and help us to grow from it. Lesson(s) learned...and new ones learned...and then more learned...


C'est la vie, eh?

Perhaps it's the History Major in me,
but I think letters are that much more
beautiful when they have crossed out
words and ink blotches.

Life certainly hasn't "stopped" while I've started this most recent journey. A new chapter in a book can still have typos. Hopefully not the same ones over and over, but small blotches, or what seem to be blotches, along the way. In the end, you can still have a brilliant book, complete with it's minor, unique spots and spurts and misspelled words. Sometimes, even, these misspellings become new words (seriously, Shakespeare created words so why can't I). So, this month I'm going to focus on embracing my metaphorical (and completely literal) misspellings and embrace them less as personal failings and more as ways of seeing the world in a new way and learning and looking forward from my mistakes. I encourage you to try this challenge with me :)

"I do not at all understand the mystery of grace-only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us." -Anne Lamont 

 

An excerpt from "Thoughts on Solitude" by Thomas Merton

                                   My Lord My God,
                                   We have no idea where we are going.
                                   We do not see the road ahead of us.
                                   We cannot know for certain where it will end.
                                   Nor do we really know ourselves,
                                   And the fact that we think that we are following
                                   Your will does not mean that we are actually doing so.
                                   But we believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
                                   And we hope we have that desire in all that we are doing.
                                   We hope that we will never do anything apart from that desire.
                                   And we know that if we do this,
                                   You will lead us by the right road
                                   Though we may know nothing about it.
                                   Therefore we will trust you always though we may
                                   Seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
                                   We will not fear, for you are ever with us,
                                   And you will never leave us to face our perils alone.

"Hello Chicago!" [Photo by Laurin-Whitney 2011]

I'm leaving! No, really...I'm actually leaving this time!

After quite the rollercoaster of emotions waiting for approval of our visas, waiting to physically get said visas, and needing to find flights to Tel Aviv (Hurricane Irene changed things up a bit), I am excited to say that our group of six is finally off to Jerusalem. It doesn't seem completely real, yet. Although I've been getting hit with waves of realization: over 40 weeks living in the Middle East.

Tomorrow morning we will pack into a van and scurry off to O'Hare to catch a flight to Frankfurt and then to Tel Aviv. We will be greeted by our wonderful Country Coordinators, Julie and Jeff, and then off to do who-knows-what as we go through our orientation. I've already been feeling the warm hospitality from the community that awaits us; it sounds as they are as excited to meet us as we are to meet them.

Please continue to keep the six of us in your prayers as we travel tomorrow and begin this new journey. Keep your eyes pealed for more blog posts soon, hopefully full of pictures!

As-Salamu Alaykum

(Peace be upon you)

I saw the following on a poster at the ELCA Churchwide offices and loved it. I hope it speaks to you as much as it has to me. I feel as if it explains a bit about what I feel called and empowered to do with my life in some capacity.

"Passover Remembered" by Alla Bozarth-Campbell

Pack nothing.
Bring only your determination to serve
and your willingness to be free.

Don't wait for the bread to rise.
Take nourishment for the journey, but eat standing.
Be ready to move at a moment's notice.

Do not hesitate to leave your old ways behind-
fear, silence, submission.
Only surrender to the need of the time-
love justice and walk humbly with your God.

Do not take time to explain to the neighbours.
Tell only a few trusted friends and family members.
Then begin quickly, before you have had time
to sink back into old slavery.

Set out in the dark.
I will send fire to warm and encourage you.
I will be with you in the fire, and I will be with you in the cloud.

You will learn to eat new food
and find refuge in new places.
I will give you dreams in the desert
to guide you safely to that place you have not yet seen.
The stories you tell one another around the fires in the dark
will make you strong and wise.

Outsiders will attack you, and some follow you
and at times you will get weary and turn on each other
from fear, fatigue and blind forgetfulness.

You have been preparing for this
for hundreds of years.

I am sending you into the wilderness to make a new way
and to learn my ways more deeply.

Some of you will be so changed by weathers and wanderings
that even your closest friends will have to learn your features
as though for the first time.

Some of you will not change at all.

Some will be abandoned by your dearest loves
and misunderstood by those who have known you since birth
who feel abandoned by you.

Some will find new friendships in unlikely faces,
and old true friends as faithful and true
as the pillar of God's flame.

Sing songs as you go,
and hold close together.
You may at times grow confused
and lose your way.

Continue to call each other by the names I've given you
to help remember who you are.
Touch each other,
and keep telling the stories.

Make maps as you go,
remembering the way back from before you were born.
So you will be only the first of many waves
of deliverance on the desert of seas.
It is the first of many beginnings-
your Paschaltide.

Remain true to the mystery.
Pass on the whole story.
Do not go back.
I am with you now and I am waiting for you.

A foretaste of the feast to come

Since Wednesday me and my fellow YAGMs have been in Chicago going through orientation to prepare us for the next year. We've learned about the Accompaniment model of ELCA Global Mission work, self-care, health and well-being, YAGM/GM policies, and cross-cultural relations. For the week we're staying in University of Chicago housing, but hosted by the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Chicago, and it's been pretty fabulous.

Sara, Michelle, and I celebrating the approval of our visas!

Yesterday, however, was one of my favorite adventures so far :) After our afternoon session on health and well-being, we were told by Heidi, our director, to drop our stuff off in our rooms and head right back to where we had been. When our country group, Jerusalem/West Bank, had all arrived we were given a 24 hour bus pass, some directions in the form of riddles and sent off to find where we were going to be dining. We had to turn our cell phones off and rely on figuring things out ourselves and asking people if we needed directions.

My friend, Kaylyn, had a similar experience earlier this summer before she went on a missions trip to the Ukraine: when she arrived at the airport, her group had to navigate without using English, doing different tasks before arriving at her destination. After hearing about our task in finding our restaurant, I got a bit excited at having that same experience, too.

Needless to say, I saw a lot of Chicago. It didn't take us very long to get to the restaurant, but it did require a few bus and El Train transfers. At one point we had decided on getting off at a certain stop, but realized at the stop before that we needed to get off there instead. Our team worked well together, and all went smoothly.

This photo doesn't do my Chicken Schawarma
justice: it was so colorful and tasted AMAZING.

Then we found our restaurant, Chickpea, a Palestinian cafe. I cannot explain to you how good the food was, but suffice to say I am extremely excited about the cuisine I'll be experiencing this next year. I can't remember what everyone ordered, but Sara had a delicious (I would know, I tried a bit) dish of Musakhan -chicken, onions and pita- which is the Palestinian national dish. The chicken was amazing, like a meat pie.

I, however, went with my staple: Chicken Schawarma on hummus with pita. It was absolutely amazing, and the presentation was good, too. There was baklava on the menu but I was too full to indulge (I know, many of you know how full I must have been to pass up baklava).

Our group had a lot of fun spending time together and getting a small glimpse at some of what we will encounter this next year. It has certainly whet our appetites and filled us with more excitement :)

Chi-town

Ye olde Windy City. It's actually been quite overwhelming, as far as the city goes. I arrived here on Wednesday after saying goodbye to my parents at Albany International, switching planes and meeting a friend (fellow Jerusalem/West Bank YAGM, Michelle) in Baltimore, and flying into Chicago Midway. It was good to meeting Michelle in Baltimore, and it made travelling to the University of Chicago's campus, where we're staying this week, much less stressful.

As I've mentioned in earlier posts, we were aware that the six of us going to Jerusalem were still awaiting our visas to be approved, and we received an email on Monday acknowledging that even after the visas had been approved it would be another 1-2 weeks until the visas arrived in Chicago at the consulate where we could get them in our passports. So I knew upon leaving home that I was going to be in Chicago a little longer than the original one-week orientation. We met as a group, as the other countries had or will, with the wonderful director of YAGM, Heidi, who did her best to assure us that they had plans for us to learn Arabic, start readings on our country's history/current events, and otherwise start our Global Mission experience. Yet, I left the meeting feeling a little more than bummed that, to be honest, we didn't know when the visas would be approved or if the wait would cause us to go home in the stead.

The days have been gently filled with presentations, so far on the Accompaniment Model (more on that in a later post) and Cross-cultural Competencies, time to socialize with our fellow YAGMS, both in small group settings, as a large group, and informally during our free evenings. The programming has been really great, not only in what we've had presented to us, but also in regards to the amount of stuff we have each day. Wednesday afternoon I went to sleep shortly after our evening chapel service, and Thursday (after our meeting as a Country group and discussing our current predicament and feelings about such) I decided to stay in and re-charge with some "alone time" both because there had been a lot of extroversion and also because the news about the visa had finally started to really bum me out.

Today, however, has been fabulously better than yesterday. Perhaps the best day ever. After breakfast and our morning devotions we found out that our visas have been processed!!! It was the *best* news ever, and when Heidi told us I felt all the emotions I hadn't felt the past few days flood me: excitement, anxiety, fear, sadness, relief, and joy to name a few. I felt my eyes tear up; it was finally real. We're going. Soon.


Today has progressed pretty nicely since hearing the joyous news of our visa status. This afternoon I went with a good sized group to Grant Park, in the downtown area of Chicago, for a free dance music concert. There was supposed to be cajun dancing (perhaps there was and I didn't realize), but it seemed to be mostly waltzing (which looks awfully similar to polka--I can strike that off my bucket list!). We all graced (or humiliated) the dance floor with our presence; I danced with friends and a few nice and willing (and need I say patient) teachers. It was a blast!

I'll post more tomorrow or Sunday about some of the great things I've learned in presentations this week while at the YAGM orientation, but until then, may you have patience and peace-of-soul as you give control over to God.

Airports

[Note: This was written 17 Aug; sorry for the delay in posting!]

Flying. I have a love/hate/love relationship with it. I love the airports, the excuse to take long naps during flight, arriving in a new place, but the actual moving on a speeding bullet through the air isn't really my favorite thing in the world. Now you may be thinking to yourself, "Courtney, you're just scared! Suck it up, be a woman!" but, alas, it is something all together different. Something that makes me feel nauseous, irritable and fuzzy-headed: circulated air. No, no, I won't write an entire post on the ills of circulated air, I've said my piece.

I do love airports, though (for the most part). Before heading through security, my parents and I grabbed some breakfast in the airport and talked about some of our previous travels and the number of airports we've been through (16 for me; I consider those merit badges). There are some that I've really enjoyed (Philly is one of my favorites, even though everyone always seems to hate it, tied with Albany) and some that are less than desirable (Newark comes to mind; although any airport that charges for wifi is lame-o in my humble opinion). But even in the worst of conditions there is something magical about airports (seeing people from all walks of life and from all over the world; and I always manage to see a monk or nun in full habit--I feel safer flying with them). Seriously! I could write a poem about 'em! ...but I won't.

I've just arrived at Baltimore via Southwest, where I will have a few hours until my flight around 1:20 to Chicago Midway. Greeting my hungry eyes was an Au Bon Pain, one of my favorite little cafes (I'm fairly certain that it was an Au Bon Pain in Oxford when I studied there that hosted me quite a few times). The food at airports has to be my favorite, because you *could* eat healthy...but all the other options are so much tastier! No matter what, I always treat myself when travelling. A sandwich, a coffee, or maybe some Junior Mints (perfect to settle that slightly churning mid-air stomach). It's like a vacation... (I have yet to get one of the airport massages, but rest assured I feel that is in my future either on the way to Jerusalem or on the way back at the latest)

So there you have it, I managed to write an entire post on the first leg of my flight. Makes me hopeful that I'll be able to post a lot each week :) 

Please continue to hold all the YAGMs in prayer as we descend on Chicago like the flock of eager beavers we are, as well as my parents as they plan my coming home party ;)