So it is believed that this is the first time "Peter Pan" has ever been performed in Palestine. And let me say, it was amazing! It was a better production than many high school plays I have attended and this piece was performed by third and fourth graders in English and for whom English is their second language. The set in particular was gorgeous: the school had a local artist draw a beautiful mural on the library wall, or the room in which it was performed, of Indian Americans and their houses settled right next to a beautiful sea with rocks upon which sat mermaids. I arrived during one of their last rehearsals so classes were frequently canceled and I found myself unknowing of where I should be or what I should be doing. Grades were handed in the previous week so as far as teachers and students alike were concerned, school was over. Eventually I was given the honor of being stage crew so I stood behind the wooden set, which on one side was painted the deck of a pirate ship and on the other side of the panels were painted the walls of the children's room. I was impressed because the middle panel, which was painted in the likeness of the night sky, was made to be pushed open like a revolving door so both Tinker Bell and Peter Pan literally entered from the sky. In fact, the parents complained that everything was so phenomenal, it was a sin for others to not have the ability to see it. Much to the surprise and delight of the kids, it was decided that the play would be professionally filmed and put on national TV. Poor Tink, the one production that was filmed was the only one in which Noor, as Tinker Bell on skates, fell...but it was amusing. She was also wearing a pretty risque outfit (by Nablus standards) and one of the boys approached a teacher asking, "Shouldn't we get her a jacket; she looks chilly." Which if you live here is amusing because children often toe the line of haram, or "forbidden," and in this case, her skirt was too short and her shoulders too bare.
Haram is the exciting and overly-utilized phrase for the international teachers because many of the things we do and the clothes we wear could be considered haram. For example, I have kept pretty well within the realms of appropriateness, but sometimes teachers wear relatively tight shirts with scoop necks and I know that I have shown an ankle once or twice. Our pants might also be a tad on the overly fitted side. However, the local teenage boys seem to enjoy it as the foreign girls prove to be elusive, but a fun game as many try to woo us, particularly because for them, winner gets an American visa. So far I seem to have been the most exotic because of my red hair and blue eyes. In fact, my first time at church, I was approached following mass and asked if I would marry an Arab man. Thinking this was a hypothetical scenario, I said yes. The lady then offered me her 29 year-old Arab son...and this is fairly normal. The Christian population is dwindling quickly because they are often able to leave Palestine so the demand for Christian girls is skyrocketing.
On the night of one of the productions of "Peter Pan", we had a young boy who currently resides with several nuns in the area (women from the same order as Mother Theresa) come visit the school because there was hope that he might receive a scholarship to attend our school. The only problem is that he is paralyzed from the waist down so he is in a wheelchair and he cannot control his bodily functions. The school thought that it would be easy enough to move him in his wheelchair since the school has quite a bit of stairs, but there was concern that if he had an accident, there would be no one to change his diaper. The international teachers all were eager to assure the school that we would be willing to do it, but they were concerned because the Arabic teachers here cannot do it because it would be considered inappropriate. However, once he raced around the school in his wheelchair shouting, "beep beep," the teachers and parents immediately requested that he attend. I am very excited because he will be coming to summer school so I will have hopefully plenty of time to get to know the young feller.
My first week in Nablus was amazing! I was there when two more teachers arrived, one of whom studied library science and with whom I will work on the library. Primarily my first week consisted of eating knafah, for which Nablus is famous,a weird confection to say the least. I would say it is akin to pouring maple syrup on mozzarella sticks. It consists of a layer of cheese breaded on top with ground pasta and then smothered in syrup. My first reaction upon eating it was to get nauseous, but then it grows on you like foot fungus.
I spent two nights in Maggie's old crib, which is absolutely lovely (or at least the view from nook was because it is located on a very large hill...and Nablus consists of nothing but hills). We moved into our new summer housing, which is a fantastic family house with three bedrooms for six women so we will each have a roommate. There are two bathrooms, which is fine, except that water is scarce and so it is necessary that people really ration water usage. Therefore twice I have had my shower cutoff mid-scrub and I have only had two warm showers since being here. Extra bonus, the water is naturally heated! And fun fact, the water here is drinkable, but it will give you explosive diarrhea the first two days.
The city is beautiful although painful to see all the bullet holes in housing away from the main street. We heard gun shots my third night here, but that just means I have been formally welcomed to Nablus. Palestinian soldiers must be off of the street by midnight when Israeli soldiers replace them until the Palestinian soldiers return around six in the morning. That is why from 11:00 p.m. until 1:00 a.m., shooting is a common occurrence. Therefore, we are all at home around 11:00, midnight at latest, which is not hard to do since there is no nightlife, particularly for females.
It was exciting, however, because I smoked my first sheesha...although it did not do anything for me so I feel like with the exception of one free sheesha in Jerusalem, that will be my last sheesha.
I have been in a car now in which Maggie was forced to drive, and let me assert, she was quite a good driver, which considering how people drive around here, is no easy feat. The food so far has been excellent, a lot of falafel as I am the token vegetarian, consisting of a lot of vegetables and we buy most of our food off of market vendors on a daily basis. Oh, how I crave those evening walks although the females usually try to return before nightfall. However, nights can get pretty wild since we stole a projector from the school and watch movies on a wall outside, or at least that is the plan.
And on the plus, plus side, there is a super, uber cute tech guy working at the school. Unfortunately, he is already an American citizen and therefore my offer of an American visa will not help me capture his heart.
Overall, my first week here, or at least what I have bothered to remember has been excellent. Primarily it has consisted of me walking around the city with other teachers, getting my bearings and figuring out what I am actually supposed to be doing. But next week will really test my fortitude...
Für meine Mutter und mein Vater, ich kann Kinder Schokolade kaufen!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Adventures in Getting Here!
So I certainly was not overly concerned about getting to Palestine. In fact, I was a lot more anxious about going to Germany last summer than Palestine this summer. Perhaps it is because I am not visiting my family (and therefore need not make a fantastic impression) or maybe because it is not the first time I am going alone to an unknown territory in which I do not speak the language. Whatever the reason, I was primarily excited about being on the plane and unable to turn back.
My flight from RDU to Philly was relatively uneventful and primarily boring with me reading trashy magazines and sleeping. However my flight to Barcelona from Philly was extremely interesting as I was seated next to a friendly girl who was sligthly older than I. She told me she was studying in Barcelona and asked why I was going there so I told her I was transfering in Barcelona to a flight to Tel Aviv. When she asked me about it, I told her I would be teaching English in Palestine. She asked me where and imagine my surprise (and fortune) when I discovered that although she has lived most of her life in America, she was born in an area surrounding Nablus, the city in which I am working. We had a wonderful conversation and even chatted coming off of the plane. I was worried about getting my ticket and and finding the correct terminal so she offered to help because she did not have to be anywhere at a specific time. Grateful, I asked if I could put my two purses on her baggage cart just so that I would not have to carry them because they were so heavy. She was holding on to them when I went to check in at the baggage check-in. Immediately they were suspicious of me because I did not have a ticket, but a printout of the order. I explained that I was changing airlines and therefore, RDU would not submit to me an actual ticket, but I was required to pick one up when I reached Barcelona. Immediately they asked me if I was Jewish (which if you know me, was extremely exciting). I told them that unfortunately no, I was Catholic. They asked me several times how certain I was of this and I told them that as far as I know and have ever been told, my family has only ever been Catholic, both on the side of my mother and my father. This line of questioning continued until they began asking me about why I was there. Since on weekends I will be going with Maggie to Jerusalem where she works with refugees from Sudan teaching them English, I told them that is what I would be doing for the next two months in addition to visiting holy Christian sites. They began grilling me about who would pick me up, why I would by myself, where I would sleep etc. and did so repeatedly until I would make a mistake. I forgot a couple of the details such as which university I was working with, but everyone has momentary lapses of memory and therefore, they had no grounds to prevent my boarding...until they asked to see my carry-on luggage.
So in retrospect, leaving my luggage with a stranger has not been my shiniest moment. However, the shiznit really hit the fan when the El Al security saw an Arab person in possession of my bags. They asked me if she was a friend and I explained that to an extent, yes she was, but only one that I just met on my flight from Philly. They asked if we discussed our backgrounds to which I responded that if that was an awkward attempt at asking if she is Palestinian, then yes, she is. I think the woman questioning me was torn between hilarity at my bluntness and disbelief at my stupidity. They asked if I would keep in contact and I responded by telling them that I had every intention of adding her as a friend on facebook. That is when I had my passport confiscated and I was taken into a back room.
I was asked to remove all metal and layers (short of being indecent) and hand over my belongings. As they went through my stuff, I was told to sit in a corner and have the curtain closed around me. Next thing I know, I am being asked to come with them so I can have my passport checked by Barcelona airport security and have my luggage which was supposed to automatically be re-routed to Tel Aviv, taken from the flight and searched. Everything was went through and repacked. Next I had to surf through my computer to disprove that it was in fact a bomb and remove the battery as I was informed all computers were to be taken from passengers and sent ahead in a seperate container. Imagine my surprise when passenger upon passenger was contently typing away on their laptops as I watched "Paul Blart: Mall Cop." The quession sessions continued for just under two hours as my background check came back negative for terrorist activity. What was most upsetting to me was the speed at which the guards, who personally took me to the terminal, watched me board the plane, and consistantly kept watch over me throughout the flight, walked which as I currently have an ankle the size of a grapefruit meant that I attempted (and failed) to keep up with his quick strides. This seems inconsequential, but when you are tired and pissed, a swollen, throbbing ankle is the last thing you need.
Coming into Tel Aviv, I explained why I was visiting Israel and was given a three-month visa in under 10 minutes. My biggest concern was calling Maggie which involved my calling international collect and paying with my credit card because I am obviously lacking in common sense ie: asking to borrow a phone from someone. Then came the taxi driver who flipped his nuts when he could not find me because he showed up at the wrong location. On the other hand, we had a lovely chat and boy was he awesome. Granted it was difficult to understand his broken English, but he gave me his perspective on the situation (as that is what everyone here calls it), which was an interesting take considering he is Christian Israeli, but of Arab descent. His sympathies seem to be with the Palestinians because he has seen the consequences of the conflict, but having been born in Tel Aviv and lived there most of his life, he has great love for the land (if not the existing government). He told me he once lived in New York and could not understand the appeal because everything you could want is in Tel Aviv (as many have compared it to a little America or my favorite, a Middle Eastern Venice Beach), but with a greater community orientation which lead to an interesting debate about the quality of New York (which I think farts daisies). I reached the checkpoint, crossed through encountering no soldiers, only a large array of taxi drivers, and was taken by the husband of the principal of the school I work at, to the school to see play practice.
My flight from RDU to Philly was relatively uneventful and primarily boring with me reading trashy magazines and sleeping. However my flight to Barcelona from Philly was extremely interesting as I was seated next to a friendly girl who was sligthly older than I. She told me she was studying in Barcelona and asked why I was going there so I told her I was transfering in Barcelona to a flight to Tel Aviv. When she asked me about it, I told her I would be teaching English in Palestine. She asked me where and imagine my surprise (and fortune) when I discovered that although she has lived most of her life in America, she was born in an area surrounding Nablus, the city in which I am working. We had a wonderful conversation and even chatted coming off of the plane. I was worried about getting my ticket and and finding the correct terminal so she offered to help because she did not have to be anywhere at a specific time. Grateful, I asked if I could put my two purses on her baggage cart just so that I would not have to carry them because they were so heavy. She was holding on to them when I went to check in at the baggage check-in. Immediately they were suspicious of me because I did not have a ticket, but a printout of the order. I explained that I was changing airlines and therefore, RDU would not submit to me an actual ticket, but I was required to pick one up when I reached Barcelona. Immediately they asked me if I was Jewish (which if you know me, was extremely exciting). I told them that unfortunately no, I was Catholic. They asked me several times how certain I was of this and I told them that as far as I know and have ever been told, my family has only ever been Catholic, both on the side of my mother and my father. This line of questioning continued until they began asking me about why I was there. Since on weekends I will be going with Maggie to Jerusalem where she works with refugees from Sudan teaching them English, I told them that is what I would be doing for the next two months in addition to visiting holy Christian sites. They began grilling me about who would pick me up, why I would by myself, where I would sleep etc. and did so repeatedly until I would make a mistake. I forgot a couple of the details such as which university I was working with, but everyone has momentary lapses of memory and therefore, they had no grounds to prevent my boarding...until they asked to see my carry-on luggage.
So in retrospect, leaving my luggage with a stranger has not been my shiniest moment. However, the shiznit really hit the fan when the El Al security saw an Arab person in possession of my bags. They asked me if she was a friend and I explained that to an extent, yes she was, but only one that I just met on my flight from Philly. They asked if we discussed our backgrounds to which I responded that if that was an awkward attempt at asking if she is Palestinian, then yes, she is. I think the woman questioning me was torn between hilarity at my bluntness and disbelief at my stupidity. They asked if I would keep in contact and I responded by telling them that I had every intention of adding her as a friend on facebook. That is when I had my passport confiscated and I was taken into a back room.
I was asked to remove all metal and layers (short of being indecent) and hand over my belongings. As they went through my stuff, I was told to sit in a corner and have the curtain closed around me. Next thing I know, I am being asked to come with them so I can have my passport checked by Barcelona airport security and have my luggage which was supposed to automatically be re-routed to Tel Aviv, taken from the flight and searched. Everything was went through and repacked. Next I had to surf through my computer to disprove that it was in fact a bomb and remove the battery as I was informed all computers were to be taken from passengers and sent ahead in a seperate container. Imagine my surprise when passenger upon passenger was contently typing away on their laptops as I watched "Paul Blart: Mall Cop." The quession sessions continued for just under two hours as my background check came back negative for terrorist activity. What was most upsetting to me was the speed at which the guards, who personally took me to the terminal, watched me board the plane, and consistantly kept watch over me throughout the flight, walked which as I currently have an ankle the size of a grapefruit meant that I attempted (and failed) to keep up with his quick strides. This seems inconsequential, but when you are tired and pissed, a swollen, throbbing ankle is the last thing you need.
Coming into Tel Aviv, I explained why I was visiting Israel and was given a three-month visa in under 10 minutes. My biggest concern was calling Maggie which involved my calling international collect and paying with my credit card because I am obviously lacking in common sense ie: asking to borrow a phone from someone. Then came the taxi driver who flipped his nuts when he could not find me because he showed up at the wrong location. On the other hand, we had a lovely chat and boy was he awesome. Granted it was difficult to understand his broken English, but he gave me his perspective on the situation (as that is what everyone here calls it), which was an interesting take considering he is Christian Israeli, but of Arab descent. His sympathies seem to be with the Palestinians because he has seen the consequences of the conflict, but having been born in Tel Aviv and lived there most of his life, he has great love for the land (if not the existing government). He told me he once lived in New York and could not understand the appeal because everything you could want is in Tel Aviv (as many have compared it to a little America or my favorite, a Middle Eastern Venice Beach), but with a greater community orientation which lead to an interesting debate about the quality of New York (which I think farts daisies). I reached the checkpoint, crossed through encountering no soldiers, only a large array of taxi drivers, and was taken by the husband of the principal of the school I work at, to the school to see play practice.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
