Peace is Every Step

All of the Jerusalem/West Bank YAGM are safe and sound. The recent escalation of violence in this region (but far from our placement sites and homes!) has caused us to pay careful attention to news, heightened our awareness of the situation, and prompted an overwhelming desire to call for prayers for all that live here, make their lives here, raise children here. We are all incredibly thankful for the concern for our safety in light of recent events; however, all of us YAGM have expressed hope that your prayers and thoughts of our well-being can be extended to those who are friends, family, co-workers, neighbors, and people we do not know here. 

The reality is, I am just one of many human beings in this part of the world. To read posts, messages, and e-mails expressing concern for my safety was humbling and reassuring of the love and support. But just as I have dreams, plans, ideas for what my future might hold, so do the people in the West Bank, Israel, Gaza. I thank you for your care and prayers for my well-being and I ask that you extend those prayers to all those who call this land home.

When you pray, pray for peace. Pray for sound judgement for those who govern, for those who have influence and power. Pray that all people can see the shared humanity of the people who surround them. Pray for peace.

When you speak, speak out against violence and injustice. Speak words of comfort to those who are hurting, worried, or frightened. Use your voice to speak in solidarity for those who do not know what tomorrow might bring. Words are powerful tools; they can be twisted and corrupted, used to promote peace or perpetuate injustice. Speak clearly, calling for a just peace for all--Palestinians and Israelis alike.

Act with intention. Do not sit idly by. Read--read the differing news accounts, read the stories of human suffering, read about the political interactions that are taking place. The fact is, the United States has influence in the situation that is occurring; help the U.S. act in a manner that will recognize the humanness of all people and promote the need for justice. In all that you do, act with peace, compassion, and deep love. 

I cannot thank you all enough for caring for the YAGM here; the eight of us were moved by the outpouring of concern and prayers. Use your concern for us, knowing that we love this place, these people, and this culture, to learn, act, and pray fervently. We love you and are so thankful for all those who have supported us in this journey. Accompany us as we learn, listen, and live here in these beautiful communities. Ask questions, read accounts, wrestle with the big questions of justice and peace. But more than anything, be informed: know that this land is wrought with history, beauty, wonder, holiness; this conflict is only a small part of the richness of this place. Seek the beauty of each new day, wherever you are. Strive to see the humanity in every person you encounter today-even if you don't like them, seek to love and respect them. Small changes in the way we treat one another can change the world. Move towards understanding. As Thich Nhat Hanh says, "Peace is every step." 

Prayers and peace to you all.

Home

Last night, over makloubeh (a traditional Palestinian dish of rice, veggies, and either chicken or meat--an important distinction here--all mixed together in amazing goodness and topped with yogurt) and toscana pizza (topped with cinnamon, potatoes and carrots...mmmm), I was asked if I feel at home here.

Yes.

I have long realized that my concept of home cannot afford to be limited to one place or region. I have many, many homes-some of them near, some far, some logical, some yet a dream. So what makes home for me?

People are home to me. People to love me, hold me, laugh with me, share their stories and their lives with me. This is so abundant here: in my host family, in the YAGM community, in my co-workers.

Routine is a part of what makes a place home....I have to land long enough to have a rhythm to the place before I consider it home. Here's a glimpse of a day in my life--at least my Monday-Thursday life!

6:00-Wake up! Coffee, get ready for the day, pack snacks for work, along with a sweater (my office is COLD)

6:55-Mad scramble to find keys, get coffee into travel mug, scamper out the door, lock door, navigate down the series of slippery stone stairs, out another door and find myself in the most unique school bus EVER. Exchange morning pleasantries with grandma (Sahbah Ilher! Sahbah Nuur!) as I dash out the door. Samur, the son of my grandparents, is our driver and he, Rand, Rosana, Kamel (my three oldest host siblings) and I set off for Talitha Kumi, picking up more kids along the way. I have to say this: Initially, this trek to school was terrifying to me. The traffic here is nuts, no seat belts, LOTS of kids scampering about while the vehicle is in motion....but as I've gotten used to the hairpin turns and the incessent honking that fills the early morning air, I have come to LOVE this part of my day. No words, just purely wonderful strangeness.

7:15ish-arrive at Talitha Kumi campus, where the Environmental Education Center is housed. My work day doesn't really start until 8:30 or 9, so I typically will sit in the botanical garden and read, journal or just look over the city of Beit Jala and marvel at the fact that I LIVE HERE! Chat in Arabic (sort of) with Ahmed, the gardener/man-of-all-trades at the EEC....we mostly talk about tea and coffee, how each other is doing, and the weather. It's a lovely exchange and Ahmed is always telling me that "Laura, you speak Arabic good!" So affirming!

8:30/9:00-Work work work. My work is different everyday...some days there's a lot of reading or research, sometimes I work on grant applications or write e-mails for Simon. Some of my favorite days are the ones that are spent with Michael, the lead ornithologist at the EEC, who lets me tag along when he checks on the nets and collects data on our feathered visitors. He keeps promising that soon, my name will be in the book as the researcher who will have banded the bird--Inshall'ah (God willing!). Work is lovely-I work with wonderful people and am coming to feel as though I am a part of the EEC family!

4:30-Home again to my lovely rooftop flat. Typically I will sit and drink tea with grandma and grandpa, play with little Rena, and chat with the other kids before I ever actually make it up to my house. Some days I venture to Jumbo or FuFu, two grocery stores, before stopping by the fruit stand on my way up the hill, eager to try a new recipe (admittedly, some of these cooking adventures have been more successful than others!).

Evenings are usually spent cooking, practicing guitar, catching up on Arabic homework, reading, Skype dates, and enjoying having time to just be. Tuesdays I go to my Arabic lesson with Jen, Wednesdays I am hanging out with little ones at Shadia's library in Beit Sahour, so these "free evenings" are actually quite seldom.

It's such a good life. I am feeling as though I know people and people are coming to realize that I've been around for much longer than a tourist would, so I'm starting to not be such an anomally...I'll always stand out and will probably take a long time to master the language, but I'm comfortable and happy here. I cherish the beauty I see as I walk down my street. I love being able to smile and greet the women I meet along the way. I am enjoying the opportunity to cook for myself and get creative with my makeshift kitchen (mini-fridge, microwave, gas stove, toaster, tea kettle, coffee pot). I value a good night's sleep. I love my host family and I just continue to fall in love with this place and these people.

Am I home here? Yes, yes yes.
Do I miss Concordia, Esko, the Great Northwoods of Minnesota? You betcha. But the thing is, if I was any of those places, I would be missing this place, because now I know this place. I am loved here, a part of this place. I can't un-belong here. So, in the midst of being away from home, I'm creating a new home and loving every minute of this beautiful adventure.