Just returned from a special visit to the Dome of the Rock. A friend arranged a tour of the interior for me. Security is incredibly tight for the Temple Mount. I was finally allowed in at the entrance near the Western Wall. It's an intensely powerful place, very moving. I'm still processing. I understand the security issues, as I did at the Western Wall, but it's a shame more people aren't able to experience it. I'll have photos up tonight.
Salaam.
29 July, 2008
27 July, 2008
Not A Good Night
I was just shutting down my computer when this headline popped up - 13 Killed in Istanbul blasts. My quiet night in a holy city ended. The two explosions are another blow, following the murders of the police officers at the U.S. consulate earlier this month, to a city and people I love. I hope all my friends and loved ones there are safe. If you read this, please check in with me. My thoughts go out to the families of those killed.
Salaam.
Salaam.
Salaam min al-Quds
I arrived in al-Quds this afternoon from Bayt Lahem, where I'd spent the night at Ibdaa to see a friend before he returns to America to complete work on his graduate degree. I took the 21 bus through the tunnel straight to the Damascus Gate. Unfortunately, one Palestinian passenger with a Canadian passport was held at the checkpoint and not allowed back on the bus for what seemed like weak reasons.
It's quite a great deal to take in and process, really, this place. It's sacred, profane, mystifying, maddening, joyful and kitsch all at once. You stride over stones worn to a sheen by six thousand years of steps, pass covered women, Muslim and Jewish, and half-naked women, tourists in everything from gold stilettos to micro-shorts and bikini tops, and plenty of grumpy Israeli soldiers and police with guns, in and out of uniform but all with their radios at their shoulders. Nuns, priests, hustlers, pilgrims, posers, tour groups, muftis, rabbis, shopkeepers, beggers, ebb and flow the way it's always been. It is a spiritual place, but that brushes up against the costs in the city. The second coming may be canceled due to insufficient funds. I don't think the carpenter's kid can afford this place anymore.
I've made friends with just about every kid who speaks Arabic in the Old City. It helps dodge the requests for shekels and yields some surprising results - one boy insisted I fire off a round of his pellet gun and I got to sit in on a rather intense game of marbles.
I just spent the afternoon wandering around the streets. I expected the Old City would be larger; that new Jerusalem would be like the Jerusalem of old. I've seen most of it, at least the exteriors, in one afternoon. Not to say I won't be retracing my steps in coming days. I've been turned away at almost every entrance to the Temple Mount by Israeli security, who told me it's closed. However, a shop keeper told me otherwise and his young grandson told me to try early in the morning. The dome and al-Aqsa are a powerful sight, even at a distance.
I visited the Western Wall this evening, God's Inbox. Women are again marginalized here; their share of the prayer area is far smaller than the men's. There were hordes of young, conservative girls squealing and schooling around the square. One tiny boy stood in rapt wonder at the pigeons milling about him. A bride and groom arrived in their white bests to offer prayers, the bride having a hard time keeping the bobbing hoop skirt of her dress from revealing to much to the eyes of God and the rest. Another couple had their photo taken kissing in front of the barrier to the prayer section. I offered to take a photo of a young Jewish family, who gratefully accepted, so dad might make it into at least one picture.
The soundtrack to the day has been the adhan and church bells, a heady combination of wake-up calls. The mosque across the street from where I'm staying has a fantastic muezzin, whose adhan is a joy to hear: melodic, a touch mournful, but not overwrought. We're surrounded by at least ten mosques, given my quick initial count of minarets, which produces a remarkable, if not unified, stereo effect.
The Old City is dark and quiet now, it's after eleven. The whole places begins shutting down around 8, security prowling the streets, metal doors slamming shut, dangling racks of goods fished down from their perches. I'm staying at the Austrian Hospice of the Holy Family, which is lovely and highly recommended, at least the dormitory where I'm sleeping is. I'll be here through my birthday, a little spiritual retreat on my own, before returning home. I want to be up early tomorrow to see the city wake up. I have a few new photos posted on Flickr, by the way.
Salaam.
It's quite a great deal to take in and process, really, this place. It's sacred, profane, mystifying, maddening, joyful and kitsch all at once. You stride over stones worn to a sheen by six thousand years of steps, pass covered women, Muslim and Jewish, and half-naked women, tourists in everything from gold stilettos to micro-shorts and bikini tops, and plenty of grumpy Israeli soldiers and police with guns, in and out of uniform but all with their radios at their shoulders. Nuns, priests, hustlers, pilgrims, posers, tour groups, muftis, rabbis, shopkeepers, beggers, ebb and flow the way it's always been. It is a spiritual place, but that brushes up against the costs in the city. The second coming may be canceled due to insufficient funds. I don't think the carpenter's kid can afford this place anymore.
I've made friends with just about every kid who speaks Arabic in the Old City. It helps dodge the requests for shekels and yields some surprising results - one boy insisted I fire off a round of his pellet gun and I got to sit in on a rather intense game of marbles.
I just spent the afternoon wandering around the streets. I expected the Old City would be larger; that new Jerusalem would be like the Jerusalem of old. I've seen most of it, at least the exteriors, in one afternoon. Not to say I won't be retracing my steps in coming days. I've been turned away at almost every entrance to the Temple Mount by Israeli security, who told me it's closed. However, a shop keeper told me otherwise and his young grandson told me to try early in the morning. The dome and al-Aqsa are a powerful sight, even at a distance.
I visited the Western Wall this evening, God's Inbox. Women are again marginalized here; their share of the prayer area is far smaller than the men's. There were hordes of young, conservative girls squealing and schooling around the square. One tiny boy stood in rapt wonder at the pigeons milling about him. A bride and groom arrived in their white bests to offer prayers, the bride having a hard time keeping the bobbing hoop skirt of her dress from revealing to much to the eyes of God and the rest. Another couple had their photo taken kissing in front of the barrier to the prayer section. I offered to take a photo of a young Jewish family, who gratefully accepted, so dad might make it into at least one picture.
The soundtrack to the day has been the adhan and church bells, a heady combination of wake-up calls. The mosque across the street from where I'm staying has a fantastic muezzin, whose adhan is a joy to hear: melodic, a touch mournful, but not overwrought. We're surrounded by at least ten mosques, given my quick initial count of minarets, which produces a remarkable, if not unified, stereo effect.
The Old City is dark and quiet now, it's after eleven. The whole places begins shutting down around 8, security prowling the streets, metal doors slamming shut, dangling racks of goods fished down from their perches. I'm staying at the Austrian Hospice of the Holy Family, which is lovely and highly recommended, at least the dormitory where I'm sleeping is. I'll be here through my birthday, a little spiritual retreat on my own, before returning home. I want to be up early tomorrow to see the city wake up. I have a few new photos posted on Flickr, by the way.
Salaam.
25 July, 2008
Living in Neopolis
Some things to note about living in Neopolis:
Water is very tight. It's a problem in many parts of the region and wider world for sure. Even posh Istanbul endures water cuts from neighborhood to neighborhood at times. Here things are compounded by Israel and the illegal settlements in the WB, where most of the ground water is siphoned off before it can reach Palestinian villages and towns. In Nablus there is a municipal water system for delivery, but all water is rationed. Roofs are topped with large, black plastic water tanks where your rationed water is stored. Despite gravity, water pressure is generally low and the responsibility to conserve water is high. We have a washing machine, but it uses too much water. The summer volunteers found this out the hard way last month and had to endure several days without water for the bathroom. One good thing is that the tap water is safe, clean and tasty, something Istanbulites cannot even brag about.
All foreigners look alike. Almost every day I walk to work through the old city. And every time most of the same people welcome me to Nablus. It's very nice of them, but rather amusing and leaves me feeling a bit like Bill Murray in the film Groundhog's Day. The people I buy my coffee, spices, honey, cheese, olives, etc. from know me well, obviously. It also reminds me of my former-mother in-law in Morocco commenting that I looked exactly like the anchorwoman on BBC who did bear a striking resemblance in that she was carbon-based, human and female.
The kunafe comes two ways - "hard", with the shredded phylo on top, the way it's served in Turkey and Syria and the only way I'd ever seen it made, and "soft" with a simple wheat meal topping. Soft's the way to go. Nichole and I have decided to eat at every kunafe place in the city and write the definitive guide. You know, as a service to the public. If unsure, start eating at Damascus Sweets, just west of the fruit and vegetable market at the clock tower.
You will see a variety of what I term "public art": shaheed (martyr) posters, election posters and graffiti. What strikes me most about the martyr posters is how nonthreatening almost all of them look, even holding ridiculously large weapons, like boys playing war. That and how incredibly young some of them look and were.
There is a mall, not American-sized mind you, but the Israelis are shutting it down August 15 because they claim it funds Hamas or the shop owners fund Hamas or something, depending on which story you here. The closing date is also flexible. I'm meeting friends there for lunch tomorrow.
Supposedly the whole place is having a going-out-of-business sale at the moment, in case you're in town.
Some people believe you should boycott all Israeli goods and a boycott can be a good form of non-violent protest. However, almost everywhere I go, people stock products from Israel, so the consensus on boycotting seems a bit weak.
Ladies, there are no tampons in Nablus. Trust me. Head to Ramallah.
There are goats on the roof of the souq. Seriously. Two of them almost fell on me through a hole in the roof in front of a butcher shop the other day. I heard a commotion above my head and looked up to see the shadows of two goats scrambling around like fallen ice skaters. No word on what else is up there.
Off to the pool with friends.
Salaam.
Water is very tight. It's a problem in many parts of the region and wider world for sure. Even posh Istanbul endures water cuts from neighborhood to neighborhood at times. Here things are compounded by Israel and the illegal settlements in the WB, where most of the ground water is siphoned off before it can reach Palestinian villages and towns. In Nablus there is a municipal water system for delivery, but all water is rationed. Roofs are topped with large, black plastic water tanks where your rationed water is stored. Despite gravity, water pressure is generally low and the responsibility to conserve water is high. We have a washing machine, but it uses too much water. The summer volunteers found this out the hard way last month and had to endure several days without water for the bathroom. One good thing is that the tap water is safe, clean and tasty, something Istanbulites cannot even brag about.
All foreigners look alike. Almost every day I walk to work through the old city. And every time most of the same people welcome me to Nablus. It's very nice of them, but rather amusing and leaves me feeling a bit like Bill Murray in the film Groundhog's Day. The people I buy my coffee, spices, honey, cheese, olives, etc. from know me well, obviously. It also reminds me of my former-mother in-law in Morocco commenting that I looked exactly like the anchorwoman on BBC who did bear a striking resemblance in that she was carbon-based, human and female.
The kunafe comes two ways - "hard", with the shredded phylo on top, the way it's served in Turkey and Syria and the only way I'd ever seen it made, and "soft" with a simple wheat meal topping. Soft's the way to go. Nichole and I have decided to eat at every kunafe place in the city and write the definitive guide. You know, as a service to the public. If unsure, start eating at Damascus Sweets, just west of the fruit and vegetable market at the clock tower.
You will see a variety of what I term "public art": shaheed (martyr) posters, election posters and graffiti. What strikes me most about the martyr posters is how nonthreatening almost all of them look, even holding ridiculously large weapons, like boys playing war. That and how incredibly young some of them look and were.
There is a mall, not American-sized mind you, but the Israelis are shutting it down August 15 because they claim it funds Hamas or the shop owners fund Hamas or something, depending on which story you here. The closing date is also flexible. I'm meeting friends there for lunch tomorrow.
Supposedly the whole place is having a going-out-of-business sale at the moment, in case you're in town.
Some people believe you should boycott all Israeli goods and a boycott can be a good form of non-violent protest. However, almost everywhere I go, people stock products from Israel, so the consensus on boycotting seems a bit weak.
Ladies, there are no tampons in Nablus. Trust me. Head to Ramallah.
There are goats on the roof of the souq. Seriously. Two of them almost fell on me through a hole in the roof in front of a butcher shop the other day. I heard a commotion above my head and looked up to see the shadows of two goats scrambling around like fallen ice skaters. No word on what else is up there.
Off to the pool with friends.
Salaam.
22 July, 2008
No time for kunafe!
Just finished: The Plot Against America by Philip Roth
Reading: White Noise by Don DeLillo
On Deck: Gardens of Light by Amin Maalouf
Listening to: The Seeger Sessions by Bruce Springsteen
Things are very hectic here at school, with summer camp ending and planning for the coming school year shifting into high gear. With about a month to go until the first day of school we've made the rather momentous decision to scrap the existing textbooks that coincide with the Palestinian curriculum and create our own. While this is exciting and will produce far more challenging materials for our students, it's also a bit crazy-making at the moment. We'll be deciding who will teach what grade at today's curriculum meeting. Each of us will be creating books for English, science and math. The math we'll be teaching is not simple arithmetic but rather what's not covered in the Palestinian curriculum: measurements, word problems, time, money, etc. We'll be selecting themes based on the grammar points included in the Palestinian curriculum and building from those. The overall goal is, obviously, to create a challenging, innovative and well-designed course of study.
In addition to that small task I'm working in the library to catalog the English-language materials. It's slow going, but I enjoy getting to see what I have to work with and reminisce over some of the titles from my childhood. I'm also working on updating the school's web site with stories and photos from summer camp. In short, I'm crazy busy and wildly happy.
Last night we enjoyed a wonderful time at the palatial home of Munib al-Masri, the wealthy Palestinian businessman who is working hard to develop his beloved hometown. He was kind enough to invite all our students to his estate for an evening of games, music and a quick tour of his home. Click on the title of this post to read more about him and see the estate.
The internet's been out at the house, which makes updating challenging with all the work to be done first at school. We may be moving again, splitting into seperate homes for the men and women. I hope to get to Jerusalem for at least a few days while school is closed for the next two weeks, but my original plan to travel north had to be postponed due to the massive textbook project. I finally have a few new photos up on Flickr and am trying to post more when I - ha, ha! - have time. Bear with me, folks!
Salaam.
Reading: White Noise by Don DeLillo
On Deck: Gardens of Light by Amin Maalouf
Listening to: The Seeger Sessions by Bruce Springsteen
Things are very hectic here at school, with summer camp ending and planning for the coming school year shifting into high gear. With about a month to go until the first day of school we've made the rather momentous decision to scrap the existing textbooks that coincide with the Palestinian curriculum and create our own. While this is exciting and will produce far more challenging materials for our students, it's also a bit crazy-making at the moment. We'll be deciding who will teach what grade at today's curriculum meeting. Each of us will be creating books for English, science and math. The math we'll be teaching is not simple arithmetic but rather what's not covered in the Palestinian curriculum: measurements, word problems, time, money, etc. We'll be selecting themes based on the grammar points included in the Palestinian curriculum and building from those. The overall goal is, obviously, to create a challenging, innovative and well-designed course of study.
In addition to that small task I'm working in the library to catalog the English-language materials. It's slow going, but I enjoy getting to see what I have to work with and reminisce over some of the titles from my childhood. I'm also working on updating the school's web site with stories and photos from summer camp. In short, I'm crazy busy and wildly happy.
Last night we enjoyed a wonderful time at the palatial home of Munib al-Masri, the wealthy Palestinian businessman who is working hard to develop his beloved hometown. He was kind enough to invite all our students to his estate for an evening of games, music and a quick tour of his home. Click on the title of this post to read more about him and see the estate.
The internet's been out at the house, which makes updating challenging with all the work to be done first at school. We may be moving again, splitting into seperate homes for the men and women. I hope to get to Jerusalem for at least a few days while school is closed for the next two weeks, but my original plan to travel north had to be postponed due to the massive textbook project. I finally have a few new photos up on Flickr and am trying to post more when I - ha, ha! - have time. Bear with me, folks!
Salaam.
08 July, 2008
What incursion?
"Did you hear any explosions last night?" asked Jon.
I was making breakfast and stopped to look at him, puzzled.
"Uh, no."
"I could have sworn I heard them," he said, scratching his head. "Maybe I was dreaming."
We learned today that 140 Israeli soldiers had entered the city the previous night and Jon had, in fact, heard some small explosions in the distance. As is usually the case with me, I slept right through it and didn't hear a thing. No precise word on if they're still in the city, but my understanding was that four men were taken due to their involvement with Hamas. Or something. Honestly, at this point everything is very second-hand, at best, if not third- or fourth-hand. I'm not belittling it, just admitting that, after just one week in the city, I'm not exactly tapped in yet. On the walk home this afternoon I could hear a man's voice broadcasting to the city on a loudspeaker, but could only make out a few words, more due to the distance and sound quality. I think it may have been a form of protest or a call to strike (think labor not violence). I'll be checking with folks in the morning.
In better news, my kids loved the running around/practicing the alphabet game and were rewarded with a few rounds of sharks and minnows because there are few funnier things than a bunch of kids running around with there hands on their heads pretending to be sharks. I'm trying to teach them a rather complicated alphabet song, Alligators All Around, taking it apart bit by bit for them. We'll see how they do. Today we made it to D: doing dishes. My acting out the parts garnered some quizzical looks, but they did sing with me, if only to placate the crazy lady.
Made some new friends this evening on a long walk up towards the Quran Academy with Jon and Nichole. Met two very nice women in a pharmacy and an elderly man near the academy who warned us of yet another checkpoint just up the road. The road up that way is quite dark and we decided we needed to be extra careful in the area. Somehow we figured out that some of the rules for hiking in bear country could also apply to hiking in the vicinity of checkpoints: make lots of noise to alert them to your presence by speaking loudly, shouting or banging on pots and pans; if confronted, make yourself appear larger than the soldiers to scare them away; never play dead or the will eat you. O.k., I admit we're not really sure about the last two...
Our friend, the shopkeeper across the street, said there was talk of the city being closed tomorrow, but was very vague as to why. Another roommate said he'd heard from friends that a general strike had been called. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring and how or if it will effect school and our kids. We'll see...
Salaam.
I was making breakfast and stopped to look at him, puzzled.
"Uh, no."
"I could have sworn I heard them," he said, scratching his head. "Maybe I was dreaming."
We learned today that 140 Israeli soldiers had entered the city the previous night and Jon had, in fact, heard some small explosions in the distance. As is usually the case with me, I slept right through it and didn't hear a thing. No precise word on if they're still in the city, but my understanding was that four men were taken due to their involvement with Hamas. Or something. Honestly, at this point everything is very second-hand, at best, if not third- or fourth-hand. I'm not belittling it, just admitting that, after just one week in the city, I'm not exactly tapped in yet. On the walk home this afternoon I could hear a man's voice broadcasting to the city on a loudspeaker, but could only make out a few words, more due to the distance and sound quality. I think it may have been a form of protest or a call to strike (think labor not violence). I'll be checking with folks in the morning.
In better news, my kids loved the running around/practicing the alphabet game and were rewarded with a few rounds of sharks and minnows because there are few funnier things than a bunch of kids running around with there hands on their heads pretending to be sharks. I'm trying to teach them a rather complicated alphabet song, Alligators All Around, taking it apart bit by bit for them. We'll see how they do. Today we made it to D: doing dishes. My acting out the parts garnered some quizzical looks, but they did sing with me, if only to placate the crazy lady.
Made some new friends this evening on a long walk up towards the Quran Academy with Jon and Nichole. Met two very nice women in a pharmacy and an elderly man near the academy who warned us of yet another checkpoint just up the road. The road up that way is quite dark and we decided we needed to be extra careful in the area. Somehow we figured out that some of the rules for hiking in bear country could also apply to hiking in the vicinity of checkpoints: make lots of noise to alert them to your presence by speaking loudly, shouting or banging on pots and pans; if confronted, make yourself appear larger than the soldiers to scare them away; never play dead or the will eat you. O.k., I admit we're not really sure about the last two...
Our friend, the shopkeeper across the street, said there was talk of the city being closed tomorrow, but was very vague as to why. Another roommate said he'd heard from friends that a general strike had been called. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring and how or if it will effect school and our kids. We'll see...
Salaam.
07 July, 2008
The "battle" for Nilin
Just a too-short, but interesting article in the Guardian to show there are non-violent organizers and protesters in the West Bank.
Off to school.
Salaam.
Off to school.
Salaam.
Some parting thoughts on Istanbul
My final column for the Turkish Daily News was published last week. I wrote it in the midst of my first day of teaching, which I did not expect to be my first day of teaching, which is probably why I'm sort of ho-hum on the outcome. See for yourself...
I have a new class of six children who are all more or less absolute beginners and of varying ages, but who will be attending the school this fall and need to be brought up to some sort of speed in the next two weeks. We worked on the alphabet today. However, as this is "camp" and not "school" they would prefer an hour of running screaming through the gym to an hour of lesson, but I persevered and I think there was progress. Tomorrow I devised a game that incorporates running screaming through the gym while reviewing their letters and some simple vocabulary. We'll see if they're fooled by my academic cheese on the broccoli trick.
Salaam.
I have a new class of six children who are all more or less absolute beginners and of varying ages, but who will be attending the school this fall and need to be brought up to some sort of speed in the next two weeks. We worked on the alphabet today. However, as this is "camp" and not "school" they would prefer an hour of running screaming through the gym to an hour of lesson, but I persevered and I think there was progress. Tomorrow I devised a game that incorporates running screaming through the gym while reviewing their letters and some simple vocabulary. We'll see if they're fooled by my academic cheese on the broccoli trick.
Salaam.
04 July, 2008
Lazy Friday Afternoon Post
Seriously, not much to report as yet. Well, I shouldn't say that...I've already made several new friends, mostly staffers at school, but a few in and around my neighborhood. Wandered through the souq yesterday with Z, R and F. Z introduced me to the best olive and cheese seller in town, who told me he wouldn't sell me the olives he had that day because he had better ones coming on Saturday.
My friend Z.'s mother cooked up a storm on Wednesday afternoon for me and my co-teacher for next year, N. It was a really lovely afternoon with a great bunch of ladies and Z.'s one-year-old nephew who is the most expressive baby I've ever seen. He and I engaged in a spirited discussion, and occasional disagreement, through a series of gestures, gurgles, clicks and intense stares. He was pretty convinced as to his side of things and an effective debater, until I blew raspberries on his forehead and he lost his concentration amid a series of mad giggles.
Everybody's gone for the weekend and I am home alone, which is actually nice this week. The city shuts down on Fridays and it is intensely and enjoyably quiet. I'll go up on the roof in a bit to enjoy the sunset. Speaking of the roof, provided we stay in this house, I'll be putting down roots, so to speak. There's a perfect spot for a garden up there, just one of my many plans for the coming months.
I'm very excited about working with N., also from the U.S. She and I are on the same wavelength about activities, projects and community involvement. I'm really looking forward to the year. For now, we have three more weeks of summer camp. My class was dissolved because too few students remained (some left for vacation) and the students were sent to the other classes. I'll be team teaching the rest of the time with N.
My friend Z.'s mother cooked up a storm on Wednesday afternoon for me and my co-teacher for next year, N. It was a really lovely afternoon with a great bunch of ladies and Z.'s one-year-old nephew who is the most expressive baby I've ever seen. He and I engaged in a spirited discussion, and occasional disagreement, through a series of gestures, gurgles, clicks and intense stares. He was pretty convinced as to his side of things and an effective debater, until I blew raspberries on his forehead and he lost his concentration amid a series of mad giggles.
Everybody's gone for the weekend and I am home alone, which is actually nice this week. The city shuts down on Fridays and it is intensely and enjoyably quiet. I'll go up on the roof in a bit to enjoy the sunset. Speaking of the roof, provided we stay in this house, I'll be putting down roots, so to speak. There's a perfect spot for a garden up there, just one of my many plans for the coming months.
I'm very excited about working with N., also from the U.S. She and I are on the same wavelength about activities, projects and community involvement. I'm really looking forward to the year. For now, we have three more weeks of summer camp. My class was dissolved because too few students remained (some left for vacation) and the students were sent to the other classes. I'll be team teaching the rest of the time with N.
Other than that, I'm just trying to get sorted and settled.
Salaam.
Salaam.
01 July, 2008
A New Start in Neopolis
Arrived today with absolutely no problems.Crossed the line, past the big read sign stating that it's illegal for citizens of Israel to enter the city and two Israeli soldiers sitting in the shade, looking a bit puzzled about the woman with all the baggage being handed off from Samaritan to taxi driver. I am just trying to process at the moment: the beauty of the landscape, the spartan settlements clinging to the hilltops, my to-do list for tomorrow, the fact that I will start teaching at 9 tomorrow, the overwhelming sounds of the muezzins echoing off the valley walls tonight, speaking Arabic again, more barbed wire than I've seen in my life, the smell of Jasmin, the delicious dinner my new roommates made for me, my new roommates...Time for a quick shower - water is precious and undependable here for many reasons - and a good night's sleep. Amusingly, at least to me, while most people in Turkey thought I looked Turkish several people here have already told me they assumed I am Palestinian by the looks of me. At least one asked if I was from here or elsewhere in the area
Leyla Sayeeda.
Salaam.
Leyla Sayeeda.
Salaam.
30 June, 2008
God bless you, Bill Ford
I happened across this obituary today and am truly saddened by the news of Mr. Ford's passing. I grew up in Miami during the bloody Central American wars. I may have been young, but I absolutely remember the murder of Mr. Ford's sister, Ita, a Maryknoll sister, and her fellow Maryknoll sister Maura Clarke, Ursuline Sister Dorothy Kazel and Catholic lay worker Jean Donovan. The terrors of the death squads - some aided and financed by the U.S. - were, in many ways, local news in Miami. Growing up in a family for who watching 60 Minutes was our Sunday tradition, I was well aware early on that bad things happen. However, for a child, or for anyone I suspect, the torture, rape and murder of nuns is something altogether horribly different. I am still convinced that the murders of these women and the 1989 murders of six Jesuit priests, their housekeeper and her daughter at Central American University helped change my world view and played a role in making me the person I am today. I don't talk about either case much, but every now and then I think about them. Mr. Ford's determination in bringing some of those involved to justice for his sisters murder and his success should be an example to us all about not throwing up our hands in defeat in the face of overwhelming odds, that one person can make a difference. God bless, Bill.
Salaam.
Salaam.
10 June, 2008
Go Dennis!
U.S. Rep. and former Democratic candidate for president Dennis Kucinich finally took the first step many of us have been dreaming of for a long time today. Turkey has AGAIN banned YouTube meaning I can't see it for myself (shakes fist angrily). Sadly, nothing will come of it, especially with Speaker Pelosi calling impeachment "off the table". But, a girl (and many folks in the US and abroad) can dream...
Salaam.
Salaam.
09 June, 2008
The view from Greece
An interesting sign I noticed before leaving the island of Samos, Greece. The photos were from Afghanistan, Iraq and some I couldn't identify. If anybody out there knows Greek, I would love to know what it says.
This photo is the one that caught my eye:
Salaam.
This photo is the one that caught my eye:
Salaam.Thanks for the buzzkill, B.
While I was in Ormos, the closest I got to news from the outside world was when Inzela, who ran one of the tavernas and had lived in the U.S. for over 20 years, mentioned that Hillary Clinton was on television as we chatted outside while I was on my way to the beach one morning.
"Did she drop out?" I asked.
"I don't know and I don't really care," she said laughing.
It was only when I'd returned to Istanbul, relaxed and restored, that I discovered she was, indeed, ending her campaign. I felt a twinge of sadness, part of me giddy at the once very real possibility of an accomplished and deserving woman president in my lifetime. However, I like Obama. I heard him speak in Atlanta early last year, when he was in his ascendancy, and it was a truly moving experience, those of us in the audience looking around at each other, giddy with hope, ready to get to work doing something to bring about the change he spoke of and wanting to hold onto the feeling, together, when he finished. I want to say I didn't expect much from him on Israel. It seems a forgone conclusion in American politics that candidates will forever work from the same script. Sadly, I did expect more from him and his comments at the AIPAC meeting stung. This is a man who wisely said we must remember that true diplomacy should be about talking to those you disagree with. And, to those of you who believe talking to your enemies equates with surrender to your enemies, there is a big difference between negotiation and capitulation. I'll still vote for him and still believe he can do great things, at least I still have hope, but I am truly disappointed. People over here are still very interested in him and generally very supportive, likely because he's not Shrub or another Republican - yes, some people now associate the whole party with him. I'll be interested to hear what people have to say now...
Salaam.
"Did she drop out?" I asked.
"I don't know and I don't really care," she said laughing.
It was only when I'd returned to Istanbul, relaxed and restored, that I discovered she was, indeed, ending her campaign. I felt a twinge of sadness, part of me giddy at the once very real possibility of an accomplished and deserving woman president in my lifetime. However, I like Obama. I heard him speak in Atlanta early last year, when he was in his ascendancy, and it was a truly moving experience, those of us in the audience looking around at each other, giddy with hope, ready to get to work doing something to bring about the change he spoke of and wanting to hold onto the feeling, together, when he finished. I want to say I didn't expect much from him on Israel. It seems a forgone conclusion in American politics that candidates will forever work from the same script. Sadly, I did expect more from him and his comments at the AIPAC meeting stung. This is a man who wisely said we must remember that true diplomacy should be about talking to those you disagree with. And, to those of you who believe talking to your enemies equates with surrender to your enemies, there is a big difference between negotiation and capitulation. I'll still vote for him and still believe he can do great things, at least I still have hope, but I am truly disappointed. People over here are still very interested in him and generally very supportive, likely because he's not Shrub or another Republican - yes, some people now associate the whole party with him. I'll be interested to hear what people have to say now...
Salaam.
08 June, 2008
Watch this!
I hadn't seen this video before, only a screen cap of the "Broccoli is my jihad (struggle)" kid, which made me laugh out loud and sent me over to Google to find out what it was from. The whole thing, song included, is really lovely (and some of the messages hysterical) and well worth a few minutes of your time.
Salaam.
PS: Link TV is a great way to get news from the Middle East and the rest of the world. Wake up and educate yourself! I download the Middle East news briefing daily on iTunes - easy and free.
Salaam.
PS: Link TV is a great way to get news from the Middle East and the rest of the world. Wake up and educate yourself! I download the Middle East news briefing daily on iTunes - easy and free.
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