A Christmas Story in Palestine

I just realized that it's been a month since my last blog - completely unacceptable! My apologies to anyone who has been anxiously awaiting my next post. So then, there's a lot to cover; I'll try to pass on the highlights as I remember them. After Thanksgiving, we (the elementary teachers) had to decorate our classroom doors for Christmas. I must say that I loved mine. I made a nativity scene that included a stable with opening doors - it was so cute! I wish that I had a picture of it that I could post, but unfortunately my camera died and I've been unable to take pictures for quite a while. A sad affair, but c'est la vie. The last week at at school before the holiday break was tiring, but fun. The kids were so excited and hyper, but I was already on holiday in my head, so the craziness didn't really bother me. We had a Christmas program and my kids did two songs. I was really frustrated with them because they just didn't want to do anything. Last year, my kids were so excited and they really wanted to do well, but this year I felt like I was pulling teeth just to get them to even participate. I chose a song that we did last year, a really fun version of "Joy to the World," in which the whole class sang, and then I chose a very special song that I had envisioned for one kid in particular. It was the Elvis version of "Santa Claus is Back in Town." If you've read my previous posts, then you will have noticed my "little Elvis." He's the one that I had in mind when I thought of this song, and so it had to be. (Both songs were performed along with CD's.) In order to make this fun for the others (only guys did this one), and really, the only way I could get them to even want to do this, I had to make instruments for them to "play" in Elvis' band. I made 7 guitars and a set of drums out of craft foam, and we used the piano upstairs for the pianist. The instruments turned out great; they even had guitar straps and real drum sticks - so, so cute. We practiced for 4 days and I taught them motions to do for "Joy. . ." and barely got them to even sing up until the last day. And then I taught the boys motions for "Santa. . . " and they were mostly cooperative. The day came & I knew that if all went according to my "vision," it would be the best act in the program. But I also knew that if they didn't cooperate, it would be the biggest flop. So the day came and . . .it pretty much flopped. Most of them barely moved or even sang for "Joy" and for "Santa," well, some of them did well, but some of them stood there like a deer frozen in headlights. I danced and sang more than any of them and I think most of the kids and teachers in the audience were watching me instead of them. I must say, though, that "Elvis" did a very good job, even though at the end of the song the guitar fell down around his ankles and he was yelling "Oh my God!" instead of finishing the song. It was an adorable disaster.
The last day of school finally came; we had our party, and the kids were so happy. They loved their gifts and were on top of the world, for that moment in time at least, and they left school on a very high note. All the stress of the last week had finally paid off. It was so wonderful and fulfilling to see the joy on their faces - it was priceless.
The time came to send Wilma back across the pond for the holiday break - she ended up missing her ride to the airport, so I had to drive her at the last minute, but of course I didn't mind. Michael, another teacher from Dalton who happened to graduate with Wilma, was with us and we all had a pleasant drive. We did have to say a little prayer though, because our vehicles aren't registered (for reasons beyond our control), and if we got stopped it would have been really bad. But, thank God, it went smoothly. Wilma is now having a lovely time with her family in the States, but she is very much missed here.
The first few days of the break, Erin and I pretty much just rested, occasionally going out in the evening. Keeping a Christmas tradition that I share with my dad, I watched "A Christmas Story" a few times, which never gets old to me. Erin, Eric, & I spent Christmas Eve in Bethlehem, which was something I really wanted to experience this year because I didn't get to last year. Plus, I'm not sure if I'll be here again next year, so it had to be done. It was nice enough; the music was lovely - the choir was singing Handel's "Messiah," and the weather was nice: cold, crisp, and clear - just the way I like it. It was very crowded with nothing to do but stand around and listen to the music, so it got boring after a while. We chatted with some of our fellow teachers at Manger Square and at length, we left and went to the Tent to eat, with Michael and a couple of our high school students joining us. The food was good, but the restaurant was full of smoke. We stayed there for at least 3 hours & I was tired and miserable when we finally left. Christmas morning arrived and I felt horrible from the smoke exposure of the previous evening, but I had decided to make makloubeh for the teachers and so Erin and I had a Christmas party to host. I got up, got groceries, & started on the meal. I was really excited because I had plenty of time to get everything done, but then sometimes things just don't go as we expect them to. I was preparing to fry some veggies, but apparently the oil was way too hot because when I dropped some carrots in, they instantly turned solid black, smoke started going everywhere, the oil started boiling over (onto the GAS stove), and I was praying that a fire wouldn't start. I stayed in as long as I could; coughing and hacking, tears streaming down my face, nose in a terrible mess. . .it was not a pretty sight. Erin came in and convinced me to come out and take a break and so I did. I sat for a while, unable to open my eyes, and just had to laugh at the situation. Once I recuperated a bit, I made the decision to go buy more oil because what I had used was ruined. And so I did. I got back, started afresh, and apart from running late, the meal was fabulous. Erin took care of the ambiance and hors d'eurves, and played hostess while I stayed in the kitchen. I finished the makloubeh, and then made brownies. Everyone loved it and I was so happy. We ate, chatted, had a white elephant gift exchange, and watched the animated Santa Claus is Comin' to Town classic from 1970. Plus, I got some special phone calls from home & that was lovely as well. It was a very pleasant evening and everyone left with full bellies and a smile on their face - a very merry Christmas in Palestine.

The Pain of Joy

This has been an interesting couple of weeks. Last week, we celebrated "Palestinian Independence Day," a bit of an oxymoron, but it was a great excuse for the teachers to have a day off & head up to En Gev. It was so nice there and the weather was perfect. We went to the Canada Center in Metulla, where there are several recreational activities to enjoy. There is a shooting range that I really wanted to try out, but the cheapest option was an air rifle with 15 shots, and I wanted to shoot a real gun. It was just too pricey. So I decided to go ice skating, which is something that I've only done twice before, many years ago. What a lovely feeling gliding oh so gracefully over the ice - yeah right - but really, I wasn't doing too badly, and it really did feel lovely until I decided to stop. I started into a kind of spin, panic set in, my arms and legs started doing that I'm-falling-backwards dance and then, with both feet flying high into the air, I landed right on my tailbone. Something cracked, I saw a flash of light, and I instinctively turned over onto my hands and knees, panting from the intense pain. It took me several minutes and some helpful hands to finally get up, and then I tried to "work it off" by skating some more. After a few times around the rink, the foolishness of my actions hit me. What the heck was I thinking, skating after a fall like that? I decided that I shouldn't push my luck and, thankfully, I got off the ice before I had another wipe-out. The damage, however, had already been done. I'm pretty sure I cracked my sacrum, and I've been moving rather cautiously since then. It seems to be getting better now, though when I'm walking up stairs or climbing into a van, I am reminded of the impact of that happy day. Believe it or not, it remained a nice day after the fall, aside from the pain. And the rest of the trip was pleasant as well; I was sad to leave.
A couple of days after our return, Mandy, who leads a small group that I help with, hosted a sleepover for some of the high school girls. Erin and I helped chaperon; the girls made pizza and then we made bracelets and key chains and watched Friends. We had a good time. Erin got into a wrestling match with one of the girls over a recliner dispute. I got some pictures and had a good laugh. Sadly, my ice skating incident kept me from participating in any wrestling matches that night. The next day, we went to watch the last soccer match of the season. The boys played first and Wilma and I mainly wanted to see the girls' game, so we left and found a nice place to have some lunch. When we got back to the field, the girls' game was already underway. I went to sit with Erin for a while and we saw some of the guys go into the woods behind the field; just mischievous boys having a bit of fun. Within a couple of minutes, two of the guys came rushing out; one of them badly wounded. He had fallen onto a broken bottle and cut his wrist wide open. He was rushed to the hospital and spent two days there. Erin is really close to this kid because she tutors him, so she was particularly upset. Thank God that he is doing much better - it was quite a serious wound. We all know that God had His hand on this boy: normally, a bus drops the team off and picks them up after the game, but we had a van there that day. Also, the field just happened to be less than 5 minutes from the hospital, so they were able to get him there almost immediately. There have been people praying for him here and back in the States way before this happened, so I know that God wants to bring something good out of this. He can't come to school for two weeks and he is in a lot of pain. Erin visits him regularly & I think it means a lot to him. Hopefully this will be a wake-up call in his life, at least, that's what we're praying for.
This past week's highlight revolved around a lovely American-style Thanksgiving Dinner. We had everything one could wish for: turkey, dressing, sweet potato casserole, and so much more. . .it was grand. It was much better than I expected; definitely better than it was last year. God bless America. Unfortunately, I began to feel a little nauseous later that evening. I went to bed slightly uncomfortable but slept well for about 5 hours. I woke up feeling really sick, but I waited it out & fell asleep again only to wake up again in an hour, this time unable to suppress it. I won't go into details; I'll just say that the next hour was unenjoyable. The good news is that afterwards, I felt much better and didn't get sick again. It's a good thing too, because we didn't have water that day. . .but that's a different story that I don't have time to get into right now. If you've lived here then you would understand. God bless Palestine.
That night I had a new experience. For the first time in my life I felt an earthquake! I know an earthquake is serious business, and I think it actually did some damage in Tel Aviv, but we just felt the tremor for a few seconds and it was over. I was almost asleep when I felt it. I was a little confused at first, but then I realized what had happened. Apparently this is the second one to hit within the last two weeks. It was pretty cool and I was really excited that I felt it, but that's about as strong of a tremor as I care to feel.
So yeah, this has been an eventful couple of weeks, but that's par for the course here. More adventures soon to come. . .

Reasons to smile

As I write, I'm feeling the all-too-dreaded sensation of a sore throat. I'm now drinking jamine green tea with honey and lemon, and I plan to gargle with salt water before I go to bed tonight. Erin was really sick a couple of weeks ago, and I do not want what she had. Actually, several of the teachers have, or are currently recovering from, an illness of some sort. It hasn't been the healthiest couple of weeks for us at school. Anyway, I'm watching "Rushmore" for the first time. I've wanted to see it for a really long time, and I'm enjoying it very much so far. Until now, I haven't been much of a Jason Schwartzman fan, but I think this may change my mind.
There are some moments during class that truly give me joy. Not so many, but a few. My students are such cuties, but that's charming for only a little while. The cuteness is either enhanced or becomes almost non-existent according to the personality of the child. In some cases, you find yourself stuck with an adorable brat. There are many different personalities in my classroom, and I have found that some of them are very entertaining. There is one boy in particular who makes me think of Elvis - young, cute Elvis, except that he's blonde. Yes, a blonde Arab. Now that I think about it, Elvis was actually blonde too. Anyway, this kid lifts his hands in the air and shakes his hips with his feet spread wide - oh my goodness, it's so cute. I can't help but laugh when he does it. Sometimes I get marriage proposals from some of the boys, which of course will always make me smile. There are lots of hugs given and received from both boys and girls, and I realize how precious it is to have such an opportunity with these children; although, at times, it can be difficult to remember that. We have music and art this year, and I really enjoy seeing the kids sing and dance. Even though the sound isn't always pleasing to the ears, the heart of it is.
We had a sleepover last night at the high school with 3rd - 6th grade girls in the Stars program. I didn't stay all night because I don't feel that great & I don't need to be staying up all night, especially since lack of sleep is probably the reason that I'm feeling ill these days. But, I did get to spend time with some of the girls I taught last year and it was so nice. They painted my nails and then drew on my face and I got to do "Twister Moves" with them, which is basically doing dance moves on a mat to an instructional CD. I was surprised at how difficult it was to do, but we had lots of fun with it.
There is so much that I'm learning here. Not only am I learning how to teach children, but I'm learning how to love them. Until last year, I had never really been around children before. I am so thankful to God for giving me this opportunity and experience - I can't help but feel that He is preparing me for a family of my own someday. It seems very odd to me to write that, but it's how I feel. I guess only time will tell.

One reason I'm here

Well, I must say that this past Friday was a good day. I have a dear Arab friend here, Fadia, and I believe that she's part of the reason I've come back to Palestine for another year of teaching school. Friday was her birthday and I felt very ill-prepared for it when the day arrived. I had wanted to buy some perfume for her that I had heard her say she loved. I looked at the prices earlier in the week and I found the perfume for 489 shekels (about $122) - way more than I had planned on spending. So, if you know me, you will know that once I make up my mind about what birthday present to get someone, it's very difficult for me to change my mind. What was I to do? I decided to wait and try to find it somewhere else. On Friday, I hadn't had the chance to go shopping again, and so I had to find something that day. Erin and I went shopping and went to a department store to check the prices there. God is so good. I found the perfume there on sale for 245 shekels! And split between Wilma, Erin, and myself, that came to about 82 shekels (about $20) each. So, I made the purchase and Erin bought some flowers and we made plans for the evening. Fadia, Ameer (Fadia's 8 year-old son), Rula, Erin, and I had a wonderful dinner at Azkedinya (very nice), and at the table I heard the most exciting thing: Fadia and Ameer were talking about the day and how Fadia had asked Ameer to make a birthday wish for her. His wish was that she would get J'adore - the very perfume that we had gotten her that day! I was so excited; I couldn't wait to give her the present. We left and came back to our apartment for dessert and the presentation of the gift. It was so nice - the flowers were beautiful, the birthday cards were great (Erin hand-made hers - really cute), and then it was time to open the gift, which was very beautifully wrapped, I must say. (Another display of Erin's craftiness). The perfume was inside a cute little make-up bag with a matching scarf and mirror case. When she opened up the bag, her mouth dropped opened and she was in shock. Rula and Ameer were too, actually. Rula kept asking Ameer if he had said anything to us about the perfume, and he hadn't, of course. His birthday wish for his mom had come true. How awesome is that? I LOVE when God does things like that. The best part was when I took Fadia and Ameer home and she was almost in tears because she was so happy. She said that this had been the best birthday she had ever had. She also said that her birthday prayer for this next year had been that she would have a new beginning, and she truly felt like it was happening. I am so awed that God uses His children the way that He does. He absolutely loves us and so many times we have the priviledge of being the vessels of His love and provision for each other. Little things like a birthday present can be a reminder of His presence and His total knowledge of our needs and even our seemingly insignificant desires. He must take such delight in showing His heart for us.
Fadia had the best birthday of her life, and I had one of the best days of mine.

Some things I like about Palestinian culture

There are some really great qualities about the culture here. One is the love of family. Even teenage guys can't wait until they get married and have families. It's so refreshing to see high school kids holding babies, babies not even related to them. They just love children and the idea of family, and it shows in their faces.
Another great thing is that if there is an occasion to celebrate, no one does it like the Arabs. I had the priviledge of going to a wedding reception this past spring & it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. There was a huge hydraulic studio camera filming the whole event and there was non-stop dancing and feasting. It was a really great time. Just yesterday, our whole road was blocked off for what I can only guess was some sort of block party or wedding celebration. Our neighbors were kind enough to let us know that we would need to move our vehicles before they closed the street. It was very odd to see our street so bare - there were no cars to be seen, which before would have been completely unimaginable. Can you believe that people would actually comply with letting their street be closed off for someone else's party? Not just for a couple of hours - it's been going on for the last two nights, and it was only just a couple of hours ago that cars have been back on the street. Whatever the celebration was about, there was a stage stretching across the whole street with a live band (a really good one, I must say), a street full of people, and of course, fireworks. Erin and I walked up to it, but there was a tent surrounding three sides, so we couldn't see very much. We did peek in through the seams of the tarps and saw the band and lots of men dancing up front.
Speaking of men dancing, that would be another thing I like. I love to see men actually dancing; you know, lively, fun, traditional dancing, not nasty bump & grind junk. (I have an appreciation of hip-hop and break dancing as well.) Guys are much more openly affectionate with each other here - kisses on the cheeks, warm hugs - and it's all very natural and genuine. I love to see the interaction.
Now, there are some things that aren't so nice about the culture, which of course is true for any culture. But, I'll save that for another time.

Where do I begin?

Okay so, I've never blogged before, so this may be a little awkward at first. I decided to start blogging because I have recently begun to have an urge to write about some of the daily occurences of my life these days. I'm not exactly sure where this urge has come from because I'm not normally the type of person who writes for others to read. And so with that being said, let's just see where this goes...