14th July
After a day of observing activity in the centre, Mayada took me to her aunty
and uncle's house for dinner. They
live in Ramallah, close by to me. I will never become used to being a muslim person's
guest; even after Jordan. Its a rule in islam that the guest isn't allowed to help out
with anything. They're to be spoiled silly. I was seated around the table, restless, when
Mayada's aunty handed me a plateful of capsi. The serving would have made up the volume
of my head! I would have stopped her but I didn't think to consider such a big serving would
be for me. Whats worse is that spread across the table you have more delicious food; yogurt
and salad.
Whats worse; it's rude not to eat it.
I ate it all. Quite quickly, actually.
And then I ate desert of fresh fruit and icecream.
Turned out I needed a big serve: it was amazing.
We got back to the centre by 11 and I spied on Maher teaching dance before we all head
off for the dead sea. Much of the dead sea is meant to be a part of the West Bank, yet
still most Palestinians here are denied access, as though it lay in the occupied
territories.
We arrived to a big israeli flag and two stubborn men who insisted we pay extra for
entrance. It was worth it. Floating on the thick sparkling water beneath a thick sparkling
sky was magical. It was bazaar looking back to Jordan, where my past stared back at me.
I must have been walking in a dream the whole night long. A large cresent moon
moon arose at 2 am above the horizon and three hours later framed by the large Jupiter and Venus.
Soon enough the sun shadowed beneath it, leaking hot pinks and blues across the earth.
Sun rise was extraordinary and right on cue Max and Thomas began to film Maher's solo
dance. I painted the sunrise whilst watching. Sleepily.
Straight after we got back to the centre, Mayada yips me out of sleep and we jump into
a car for Jerisliyye to visit her other aunt and uncle. The service taxis here are the
best ever. They're maxi taxi sized, and are meant to have specific routes. They're frequent
(save for fridays) and squeeze as many people in as possible for a very small fee.
The Palestinian country side is beautifull. Mountains and mountains, with neat little
villages on their tops and a tumble of olive groves drooling down the sides. Decorating
the mountain farmers long ago built large (giant sized) steps to steady the land as it
slopes. This makes the land for suitable for trees as well as very pretty.
Jerisliyye is one of these villages atop a mountain. It's full of families whose
'man of the house' has spent time working in America. I still dont understand why. But
the families all put their money towards huge welcoming houses ('villas') of a mediterranean
architechture, with colourful arabic furnishings (a bit like taita's but more colourful).
The service taxis drop you off to the door (hallelujah) and I'm warmly welcomed by breakfast.
I so wasnt hungry. Foul, lebne, zartar, salad, bread, and the sweetest honey I've ever had.
I accidentally ate a chilli and cried. hehe.
Atop the house is an attic, where a party of pidgeons have made themselves at home.
They fly back and forth between the sun.
Once I have woken up we eat dinner. Mansaf like none other. A wonderful, yoguhrty lamb
atop bread atop bread with yoghurt sauce. As well as vine leaves (cooked with tomatoes as
stock) salad (all salads here are tabouli varients) and a gourmeted chicken.
Who knew food made you hungry?
I sleep some more after dinner (as I'm unallowed to help) and then I'm taken out by the youngest
daughter Haneen (who's 17 and has learnt good english at school) as Mayada meets the mother
of a man who wishes for her hand. As we leave the house, we become a party of four, then six
then ten as more and more children (from 5 to 18) leave their homes to join us on our walk.
Of-coarse they can wander at night: everyone in the village knows and trusts each other.
And whilst it is a quiet village, its much noisier at night as this is when everyone is up
and active (it was a very hot day). We are invited into most houses along the street (my aunty
and her mother's house, my grandmothers house, etc) where I'm made to eat more and
more delicious types of food (all foreign with arabic names). The two youngest boys insist
we pick something I thought would be snow peas. As they ran through the fields of green
plants, a farmer came out yelling from his house and we all sprinted down the street. I
think I was the most terrified. The fruit turned out to be like a furry cucumber and after
I really liked it I was invited back to someones house where they had it pickled.
Finally back at the house I collapse as everyone else stays up until early morning watching
a tape of the most recent engagement party (I'm invited to another one tomorow night).
I wake up to watch the sun rise and sparkle Palestine with a soft pink.
I was sad to leave Jerisliyye, and though they invited me to live there a while I said no.
16th
Arrived back at the centre after staying at Jerisliyye and spent the day trying to help everyone.
I have not been assigned to any job in particular and as I tried to help I felt more and
more helpless. Austistic children simply do not notice you And the other children need
too much of you And everywhere is inevitably messy and you just cannot escape things which
need to be done.
Reflecting now I think, surprizingly, it was a good day. Ive almost stressed all my stress
out and know it can only get easier.
It's now the 18th and I cannot discern the days apart from eachother. Each day is similar
to another in that the children have come in the early morning, they leave at 4 ish (depending
on when their parents/a bus can come). It's hard for me to explain what my role here is but
I don't stop helping. See tomorow night the theatre holds a big performance for all the parents
to see and so it's the climax of movie and everything is chaotic. The centre is suddenly full of
people (helpers?) it's not organized enough to handle. More rules have been put in place for control,
causing more confusion and chaos. The atmosphere causes the children to loose all sense of
peace and they're difficult to tame...
So I jump from working with the autistic kids (observing Mayada and taking over when she's called
elsewhere), to working with the children (not very well. They all need too much attention each
at once), to helping to build a stage, to serving coffee and water to kids or construction workers
(who're building a stage). I really like the people I work with here, it motivates me
to keep learning their language so I can properly communicate with them.
Last night we went to a circus set up by a similar (yet far better funded. Since here we run off nothing)
group of people. Afterwards we went out for drinks! A few locals took a large group of us
to a western bar for beer. The local beer is delicious, strangely enough, as the demand for
it is pretty low.
The taps now offer but a dribble here in Ramallah, but unlike outside the West Bank, we are not distributed clean
water anyway. I bought a six pack of water this morning but its now finished.
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