Jordan: Amman and Petra
I was reminiscing recently about how fun our 2013 trip to Jordan was. Then I looked here on the blog and found nothing. I remember blogging the trip, so that means the post must have disappeared when I changed blogging platforms later that year. What a shame.
Here we are two years later on May 1, 2015. I'm going to backdate this to May 1, 2013 since I know our trip to Amman and Petra, Jordan happened around that time. It'll be interesting to see what details I remember (or misremember) two years later. I don't think I'll remember much so this post will mostly be photos taken by Prince Charming.
In some of the photos (like the one above taken in Amman) I appear to be bursting with Spring-induced ebullience. That was probably true, but it was also true that I'd recently been inspired by this photo series to dance in as many photographs as possible. Thus the leaping, the arabesques, and the generally whimsical feel of many of these pictures, like this one:
We took this trip with Prince Charming's dear friend Eric:
Amman
One of the first places we went was the lovingly restored ancient Roman Amphitheater in Amman. Although it was built over 2000 years ago, the acoustics are so good you can hear everyone on the "stage" from the very top row. I remember that it was funny to sit in the seats and hear everything uttered by every tourist who wandered in the front entrance. We also tested the acoustics by reciting some Shakespeare. ("To be or not to be...")
Next we went to see some ruins. Hold a moment while I try to find out the name of the ruins.
Okay, got it. The area is called the Citadel. Wikipedia says:
The Amman Citadel is a national historic site at the center of downtown Amman, Jordan. Known in Arabic as Jabal al-Qal'a, (جبل القلعة), the L-shaped hill is one of the seven jabals that originally made up Amman. Evidence of occupation since the potteryNeolithic period[1] has been found, making it among the world's oldest continuously inhabited places.
The Citadel is considered an important site because it has had a long history of occupation by many great civilizations
Petra
After 1 or 2 days in Amman, we went to Petra for a day and a night. Wow. Two years later, that visit stands out as one of favorite my travel experiences of all time.
After the trip I went back to Ramallah, Palestine and Eric and Charming continued on together to visit Beirut, Lebanon.
Let's Talk About Making Money
I totally hear your heart’s deepest concern about following your passion and doing what you love, creatively speaking.
You've told me in so many different ways what your main question is regarding your art:
Is it sustainable?
Can I make a living?
Can I make it work?
Can I do this full-time?
Can I succeed at this?
Can I support myself financially?
How do I make this profitable?
Will I have consistent income that I can actually live from?
Will I run out of clients or projects?
IT’S THE MONEY QUESTION.
I used to believe that when it came to the way we earn money, we had to pick something “realistic” or, at least come down from the airy-fairy world and be “practical.”
Then I found out about a company full of professional fairy princesses. I was so excited, but wasn't sure if I had what it took to be one – or even if they had any job openings. A few weeks later, I found out this company had an opening. I interviewed and got the job. I worked for a year and a half as a professional fairy princess. This completely changed my outlook on careers. Many little girls dream of being a fairy princess, but that dream is soon squashed by adults around them who say dream-squashing things like “fairies are pretend.” Nope, not pretend. Real. Fairies are real and they are making real money. Not a bazillion dollars, but an actual, decent, fair wage.
Bottom line? If I can be a fairy princess, you can be anything you want… an artist, writer, painter, world-traveling acrobat, or whatever!
SO HOW DO YOU DO IT?
If I had to distill down the money stuff to one article, and give you specific focus points, (which I do, because I want you to have the best information possible) I would tell you eight things:
1. Cultivate a number-neutral attitude. Whether you are thousands of dollars in debt, or have thousands in savings, the numbers are neutral, meaning they just are. They aren’t good or bad, and they aren’t positive or negative. They say nothing about who you are right now. They don’t mirror your character. Should I say that again? They don’t mirror your character! They don’t reflect who you are right now. Money has nothing to do with your true identity.
2. Cultivate a sense of abundance. If you have five dollars in your pocket, appreciate it. Don’t confuse this with thinking the five dollars is part of your identity (see #2), but just be grateful for the five dollars. Being thankful is the KEY to cultivating a sense of abundance. Don’t just be grateful for the money in your pocket, but ALL the abundance in your life. Perhaps you have an abundance of health, or an abundance or friends, or an abundance of canned corn in your kitchen. Whatever it is, you are rolling in it. YEAH!
3. Be open to your businesses looking different than you originally envisioned. The money-making spot is where your passions and strengths overlap with what the world needs. This is a big overlap space, with lots of room for all artists to make a living. However, the overlap might surprise you. If your community of buyers, clients, or customers looks different than you thought they would, be open and accepting of that, and embrace them. They are your people, even if you thought they would be different people. Love them.
4. Embrace help. Do you have an independent streak? So do I. It’s a huge gift, but also something to regard carefully and beware of in business. Success requires making requests of people, and the steps that grow your business significantly will involve seemingly mind-boggling acts of generosity from other people. For example, someone with a larger customer base might introduce your stuff to their customers. Your significant other might do the dishes a dozen times while you are studying your art. Your best friend might volunteer to provide snacks at your book launch party. Accept these as gifts. Thank them. You also give generously to others, which leads me to…
5. Give generously. Especially give to those you are tempted to view as your “competition.” Give appreciation, offer connections, and offer support. These folks are not your “competition,” they are your colleagues. This is called web-thinking or partnership thinking, and it requires an abundance mindset. The second group of people to give to are your customers and would-be customers. When you find those people who are willing to pay for what you have, treat them with the ultimate respect, love, and appreciation. Give them presents
6. Charge money! It’s your job to make it clear to people that you run a business. When pricing your stuff, find the sweet spot that seems and feels fair to your customers, but that involves a bit of a risk for you. Setting prices should be a little scary. You should ask for a little bit more than you think you can get. Then watch your business boom.
7. Remember that it’s not just about money! Focusing only on money will lead to burnout, and no body wants to be a burned-out artist. That job description usually involves long, sleepless nights, alcohol and drugs, and an early death. I believe in sustainable artistry. For an approach to your art that will keep you physically, emotionally, spiritually, AND financially healthy, follow my 12 Royal Rituals for Art and Income. (You get that info-drawing when you sign up for my free updates. Also, I write about the 12 Rituals constantly.)
TAKE ACTION:
Leave a comment telling us which of the 7 steps you would most like to focus on to grow your creativity business!
Jotting down your comments helps every member of this community learn and grow together.
As always, thank you so much for being here. I truly value your presence, your heart, and your art.
Bulldozer on the Beach
Also, a real live Scot.
So with two Americans in the front, a Scottish lass named Kate, and a Palestinian habibti in the back, we set off for a beach we'd never been to called Herzaliya.
Now, normally, I'm prepared with my realism and slight cynicism about traveling to and fro between Palestine and Israel. It's always hard. We always get lost. There's always traffic. Checkpoints suck. Blah, blah, blah.
But lately, things have been easier. We've been making local friends who've helped us through the more difficult parts of life here. We sort of know where things are, and when we need to avoid certain checkpoints. It's about time, since we are just a few months away from the one year mark.
So as we rolled up to the checkpoint, I made a swaggering comment about how I'd bet money that the guard would just wave us through. I was willing to put money on it. Seriously.
No ma'am. They asked for all our paperwork, and our Palestinian friend pulled out her I.D. and her special card from the UN giving her permission to enter Israel.
Holding our passports hostage, they told us to pull the car over, and open its cavities.
Then we had to get out, and put our bags through the x-ray machine. We had to pull out water bottles and for some reason, our Kindles had to get scanned multiple times.
Then they pulled aside our Palestinian friend to get her alone to interrogate her. In the end, they told her she couldn't pass through this checkpoint.
What was so frustrating for me is that I'm pretty good at negotiating with the teenagers who run the entry points to Israel. (Yes, it helps that I'm a white American female.) I realize that negotiating with teenagers is always a delicate and unpredictable process. And I'm aware that negotiating with teenagers who are CARRYING FIREARMS is a delicate, unpredictable, and dangerous endeavor. However, I've done it before. with success and the help of an adorable puppy.
So I asked the soldiers what was up, and where our friend could get the information that said she couldn't pass. Turns out, she needed to find out from the DCO (which stands for District Control Office or something) to find out which checkpoints she is able to pass through. At that point, I was thinking of trying the puppy method, which I'm pretty sure would have worked.
However, as I talked to the guards, the other members of my party were giving me "let's get out of here," looks, so I didn't continue to negotiate with the guards. However, I think that, given another year of experience here, I will have the confidence to negotiate more effectively with the guards. It's all about confidence, whiteness, and having a few phone numbers of U.N. representatives in one's pocket. We seriously needed to get to the beach, and I was and will be willing to negotiate with armed and brainwashed teenagers both now and in the future.
But the story doesn’t end there. We turned around and drove maybe three more hours, getting lost and irritated as our planned time in the sun dwindled. We finally made it to another checkpoint where we had to get out again, and went through the same x-ray process, right down to having to scan our Kindles twice.
This time, they let all of us through.
But then we got lost again. Charming simply gave up, his foot cramping from driving so long. Our normally bubbly and outgoing Palestinian friend felt so humiliated that she stopped talking. That left me and Kate to figure out how to get to the beach. We pulled over, and thankfully, Kate offered to ask some nearby people for help.
They gave us directions, which matched Charming's suddenly operating phone GPS directions.
We finally made it to Herzeliya beach, with just a few hours left to enjoy.
But we did enjoy them, filling up on sushi overlooking a marina.
Seriously.
This was a huge beach, and the bulldozer was just a few feet away. You can see from my body language how pissed off I am.
(Charming has decided to appear photographically on this blog. I'm so happy! This is a rather mundane photo for him to be making his first appearance in, but I'll try to add more shots that show his good looks later.)
But this was Israel, where if someone wants to plant a pole on the beach on Sunday afternoon, they are going to do it.
And fly a kite.
4 Ways to Avoid Being Hoodwinked
Prince Charming and I visited Greece as part of our 2012 honeymoon. Our taxi driver from the Athens airport to our hotel near the Acropolis was named Giorji. He was so cool he even did a magic trick for us. After de-planing, we’d withdrawn cash from the ATM. 200 Euros. The problem was, the machine gave us four 50 Euro bills. When we arrived, we wanted to give the taxi driver a tip, although our grand total on the meter was almost exactly 50 Euros. Charming handed over a 50, and we began whispering about the need for a tip and to check our bags for spare change. Well, sometime between handing the fifty Euro bill to Giorgi and his hand receiving it, it turned into a ten! Amazing! He held it out for us, embarrassed-looking. “This is a ten,” he said, his expression that of an indulgent parent who has caught his child making a mistake on their homework.
Well, we knew we hadn't given him a ten. In fact, our whole problem of the moment was that we didn't have any small bills. We politely thanked him for his display of magic and left the car.
Just kidding. When we refused to give him more money, he said “are you sure?” and accepted our “ten,” possibly cursing us under his breath. Shaken and distressed at Giorgi’s attempt to rip us off so convincingly, we got out of the car, breathless and eager to put some distance between him and us. Later, we found out it should have been a flat rate of 35 Euros from the airport. He wasn't even supposed to use his meter.
It’s a common fear — worrying about being conned, hoodwinked, bilked, ripped off, or scammed. Especially as we build our creative businesses. There are so many services and products being dangled before us, promising to help teach us more about our art, or to give us the skills to sell it more effectively and profitably.
HERE ARE 4 WAYS TO STEER CLEAR OF HOODWINKERS:
- Be familiar with your money.
Know how much you have, and where it’s going. We did this in the taxi in Greece, and it saved us from getting totally scammed.
- Be extremely wary of anyone promising instant solutions – especially those that require a recurring monthly payment.
Google the heavens out of them. Google their name or business together with the word “scam” and see what comes up. Make sure they have a return or refund policy you can live with. See if there’s a way you can get to know their products or services for free. That leads me to…
- Get their stuff for free.
In the services industry, most true experts have a desire to see people succeed, and will give away a lot of their stuff for free. I do this. It gives you time to get to know me, and know that what I have to offer is helpful and valuable. You can decide to work with me or not, but either way, I want to see you succeed. That’s why I share so much free expertise.
For other, non-training based businesses, look for free trials and return policies that include shipping for physical products.
- Let go.
If you have a run-in or a close encounter with a scammer, here’s how to let it go. Don’t try to forget it happened, or downplay how violating it can feel. Just take a deep breath, and feel your present-moment emotions. Let the emotions naturally pass. Talk about it with a friend. Then put yourself in the scammer’s shoes to cultivate compassion. Their life must be full of hardship, pain.
TAKE ACTION:
Is there a time when you were scammed or almost scammed? How did you avoid it, or what lesson did you learn?
Please share your story n the comments section below. This can really help every member of this community to learn how to deal with the hoodwinkers of the world.
As always, thank you so much for being here. I truly value your presence, your heart, and your art.
The Moving Story
Meet Our New House
I'm writing this from my new desk in a room I painted blue with a white heart on the wall. In front of me is a window looking out in onto a veranda where I can see Jelly with her paws up on the ledge, looking down at the street from our second-story view.
We are in Ramallah. Prince Charming and I were so sure we were going to move to Jerusalem, that I almost posted that a while back. Instead, I opted for "seriously considering." Which we very much were.
But then a funny set of circumstances happened. Right as we were making the decision to up and leave Ramallah, seeking what I referred to as a "cleavage neighborhood" (defined as: 1. A place where, if one wanted too, one wouldn't be stared at/harassed/spat on if the division between one's breast were to show above the neckline of one's shirt 2) a place in the crack/seam between Israel and Palestine because we can't live in Israel proper for professional/political/ethical reasons), we met friends.
Specifically, I met a friend on the day my other friend told me she was leaving the country for good. I sat at a cafe with this other friend, sort of sad, and wanting to order a drink. The menu at this cafe had all sorts of yummy cocktails on it, one of which I ordered. I really wanted it, but the server said they were out of whatever it was they needed to make it. "Well, what DO you have?" I said as bitchily as I could, thinking Of course. No cafe in Palestine ever actually has what they advertise on the menu. "Any of the other ones," the waiter said. "Why don't you just tell me what you actually have so you don't have to keep checking," I said, or some such. He wandered off, and shortly, a tall, energetic American with long curly hair and multiple piercings bounded over and sat down with us. "Can I help you?" she asked, pointing at the cocktail menu. And that was how I met Morgan, who is married to the Palestinian who owns the cafe, and who has lived in Palestine for about 9 years.
After what my mom aptly called a "whirlwind romance" of a friendship, that included hiking, discovering a shared love for rescuing dogs, DIY, organic food, Pinterest, and puppets, among many other things, and discovering our husbands' shared love for planning projects that they may or may not follow up on including cheese-making and beer-making, we decided to move in with them. Or, more precisely, to move in above the cafe they run and live behind.
We are happy because Jelly now has a garden to run around in, and other doggie friends. However, I think it was the chickens with their daily fresh eggs that did us in. Or the fresh lemons and grapes from the orchard outside could have tied the knot. Or maybe their organic garden of fresh greens and the Vitamix blender that came with the apartment allowing me to make a green smoothie this morning from these ingredients:
Prince Charming would vote that it's the endlessly flowing cheeseburgers (best in town) & Guinness downstairs. What I really like about this place is that it's right next to the city center, so I can walk to the market, yoga, and dance class without getting into a smelly cab.
Finally, I got to paint it those bright colors I love, y'all. Enough words, it's time to show you some before and afters.
I did a lot of the painting, but I wasn't the only one painting and doing the mountain of work required to make the place polished. Morgan and her husband and dad, the carpenters, as well as my Prince Charming and another friend did a whole lotta work. And the work continues. We are decorating it using cast-off furniture from a carpenter's pile of extras, some new stuff, and a whole lotta DIY creations.
Now you know why I haven't blogged for a month. Whew! I can't believe we are actually in. Last night was our first night in the place, and it was a good one. I'm feeling so grateful and happy.
Jaffa Flea Market
And Art in Tel Aviv
The ever-charming Charming did all the planning for a little surprise Valentine's getaway this weekend to a cottage (sounds better than a one-room concrete slab house) just one block away from the BEACH in Tel Aviv! He sure knows how to win my heart. There are no photos to prove it, but I did a February swim. It was invigorating and refreshing and freezing cold.We've been to Tel Aviv before, but I forgot to tell you that the city's full name is Tel Aviv-Jaffa, because the old city of Jaffa was there before they built Tel Aviv. It's just south of what is Tel Aviv proper. Jaffa was and is home to many Arabs, and this means that Tel Aviv in its entirety is fairly well integrated. Tel Aviv-Jaffa, as I've raved before, is art and fashion friendly. I suspect it's also the only place in the Middle East where an Arab boy or girl could openly choose to love whoever they want to love. All this freedom attracts people who like freedom, and from what I've seen in my travels, that often means artists. Everyone in Tel Aviv has an eye, even the graffiti artists.
We made it to the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, and saw some Picasso, Renoir, a Monet, and an Israeli artist whose name I've already forgotten and who I don't think will go down in history. I got inspired, as I always to in musems, to make more art.Although the museum was modern and beautiful (and had a lightfall, whatever that is), my favorite arty experience was visiting the Jaffa Flea Market and seeing the pop art that is the collections of flotsam, collectibles, trinkets, and old shoes that fill the market.Here's one corner of the Jaffa market.
Inside that shop:
The trip was musically completed by a trip to the cinema to see Les Miserables. It made me SO happy, despite the saddest song in the whole thing ringing through my head these past couple of days ("So different from this hell I'm living!"). Charming and I have been taking turns singing "But the tigers come at night." Sometimes I can hit that low note. Or pretend too. Anne Hathaway worked so hard! And they gave her most of the beginning of the movie, which probably should have been edited down, but I'm so glad they didn't.Anyway, that whole Lay Miz tangent was so I could tell you about the bathroom mirrors in the mall curled around the cinema. Are they doing this in the U.S. now?
Looks like a normal mirror. But it's a surface for advertizing.Genevieve's vanity: Sponsored by oscillococcinum. (I had to wikipedia it. A homeopathic treatment for the flu derived from duck liver and heart.)
So you're supposed to look in the mirror, and be like "Dang. I look ________________. Yeah, I need some duck liver."Then the screen fills with the image, but you can still sort of see yourself through a haze of duck liver product.
Offal good fun,
Genevieve
Packing for Someplace You Visit Frequently
Today's guest post comes to us from my Prince Charming, who generously offered up this advice after I generously complimented his speedy (ten minute) packing for a trip to Gaza. Considering it still takes me an hour to pack, I was impressed. He makes this trip to Gaza so frequently because he has a lot of work to do in the Gaza office of his organization; he sort of lives there for a few days every couple of weeks. This information will be helpful to you if you:
a) Often travel to the Gaza Strip. b) Often travel to any one location (for example, you travel to your sister's house every couple of weeks to accompany her to medical appointments). c) Are a minimalist international (or national) traveler.
How to Pack for a Split Life in Gaza
By Prince Charming
For a visit every two-three weeks, when you start traveling each time you come, bring at least one or two items you can leave behind. The things you leave behind should be
toiletries
a pair of jeans
a clean white t-shirt
pajamas
flip-flops or slippers
a hat
a sweater
extra socks
underwear
If you arrived as a minimalist and only have one of each of these things, slowly acquire cheap extras as you build up your Gaza closet. In an ideal world, if you will have lots of important meetings, it is good to leave a sports jacket or suit behind as well as a tie or two, one tone no fancy design, in blue, yellow, or red.
I brought in an extra flashlight, travel alarm clock, and two pictures of my wife (can I get a collective "awww" says Genevieve) for my bed stand.
Once you’ve got a basic after-work attire settled there, all you need to bring in is work attire. I usually stay 2 – 3 days at a time.
My usual clothes packing list is:
2 pair khakis
2 -3 pair socks and underwear (enough to leave at least one clean pair of each behind for the next visit)
2 t-shirts, exchange with the last one you left behind
1 Work sweater if winter
1 – 2 long sleeve knit shirts or button down depending on weather
1 jacket, casual if no special meetings planned
1 pair of shorts if summer
In the event that I have to stay longer than three days, there is a washing machine available.
I also bring:
dual-sim card cell phone (to cover the trip from Palestine-Israel-Palestine,)
Kindle
travel umbrella if looking like rain
reading glasses
a snack
R2-D2 (a small good luck token - see above photo)
my work laptop
phone charger or mini-usb cable for phone charging on laptop
I usually bring a phone charger, but that is only because I’ve been too lazy to pick one up in Gaza. An even easier approach is to bring a mini-usb cable and charge the phone through my laptop. A travel speaker such as our Jawbone is good if going for a longer visit. I take the projector from my office and use it with my laptop and speaker to watch movies in the evening.
Of course, you can assess the local market and buy within Gaza as needed too if you don’t want to shuttle items back and forth. I bought a chess set and cards locally for the guesthouse in case anyone else is staying aside from me and wants to play a match. You can get a pocket knife locally as well; don’t bring one across the border, and don’t bring any spirits either.
Having done this, it now takes me ten minutes to pack for Gaza and for a while I was leaving with less than what I brought it.
Let's do Jelly Shots
And Chocolate Cake
This weekend was filled with simple pleasures. I baked a chocolate olive oil cake. I recently read in a book called Deep Nutrition that most vegetable oils, such as canola, destabilize quickly after production, making them a little bit toxic for human consumption. According to the book, olive oil stays stable for longer, and is therefore much healthier than canola. I was happy to find a recipe with olive oil in it because I was craving chocolate cake and we are practically floating in olive oil here. In fact, a walk around town is marked by vendors, mostly elderly ladies, selling their own homemade olive oil in repurposed containers. We currently have this Sprite bottle filled with aromatic local olive oil.
I used some of it to make my cake.
It was a deeply chocolaty recipe that used almond flour as well as regular flour, so it was nutty, dense, and slightly fruity with the olive oil. I served it with a whipped yogurt coconut topping.
When I eat something really sugary, I try to eat it with yogurt, since otherwise the sugar upsets my internal balance of flora and fauna resulting in infections. The yogurt provides pro-biotics that restore balance to keep everything healthy. The yogurt also provides protein so I feel more stable and don't get the sugar high/crash affect. We all know refined sugar is unhealthy for SO many of our body's systems, but if you love it and eat it once in a while, it's nice to know how to keep your body from freaking out from it.
Anyway. Let's move on to Jelly shots. I had a request from Natalie for more Jelly shots, so since I'm sure she's not alone in her desires, I'm providing more cute doggie photos right here. This is Jelly's favorite spot in our house. As you can see, she's a very smart girl:
She's a bit camera shy, so it's hard to get a photo of her holding still, but I did manage to capture her with her ears sort of up this morning by singing. When I sing to her, she gives me this quizzical expression, twisting her head side to side to figure out what is going on.
Everyone who meets Jelly says "she's so skinny!" which is true, but which also makes me feel like I'm not feeding her enough. For your information, she eats a lot. She eats more than my parents' dog who is twice her size. I think she's just a naturally skinny breed. She's extremely agile, alert, and quick on her feet, and this attentiveness must burn a lot of calories.
Jelly at Mulberry Springs
This weekend, and last weekend, we took Jelly to a place we drove by called Mulberry Springs. It's just off the road that is for the District Control Office (Reserved for Israeli military, NGO workers, and whoever else the soldiers decide to let pass). Last weekend Jelly got to romp and play off the leash while we hiked up the large hills that surround a creek bed. Jelly was hoping to get to play off the leash this weekend too.
We were thankful for beautiful weather, a rare thing, thus far this winter season in Palestine.
When we got out of the car this time, the first thing we noticed was a large flock of sheep on the next hill over (I didn't get a photo). The second thing we noticed was the way Jelly's vomit had decorated the side of the car when she puked with her head out the window while we were driving.
I was ready to run. I started jogging, hoping that Jelly would keep up like she did last time. I leapt over the creek, but she lagged back, look fearful. It was then that I saw the large dogs guarding the flock of sheep. I'll just run right by them, I thought. I would have to run the trail under them, but then I would pass them and go up another nearby hill. Jelly uncharacteristically hung back. When I got almost directly under the flock of sheep, I heard and saw the three large, furry dogs barking at me. I stopped and stared at them, trying a) to gauge how easily they'd be able to come down from the very steep hill they were on and b) to not act like prey on the Discovery Channel. My stopping was all they needed. They began charging down the hill, taking a small switchback trail I had not seen before. I considered running, but knew I was outmatched for speed. Just when I was preparing my most aggressive fighting stance, they got to the bottom of the hill and raced towards Jelly, back at the creek picnic site with Prince Charming. I felt instantly relieved, and then my protective instincts kicked in, and I ran after the dogs. I watched as Prince Charming, backed my Jelly, barked fiercely at them. They came to a screeching halt and ran away, up the creek bed.
I tried again. I ran the same path with Jelly cowering on the leash next to me and with a tube of powerful pepper spray in my right hand. This time when we passed the dogs and they started barking, I simply barked back. They let us pass. Jelly and I were rewarded with a glorious run up, up, up the long hill to a patch of green (green!) grass and blue sky at the top of a hill. I lay down on the soft grass and for the first time in Palestine, felt completely safe outdoors. There was no one around. I couldn't see any soldiers or military towers or security walls. Just me, the grass, the sky, and my fierce guard dog Jelly.
Later I working on training Jelly and tried to grab a few more Jelly shots. Here's her "sit" almost wiggling off the camera:
And here's her "down." Good dog.
Hebron
Occupation Among Us
Charming and I visited Hebron last month, on December 8, 2012 with two of his co-workers: Birlam and Osama. Osama is the merry guy you'll recognize from my Gaza post. Birlam is equally merry, and together Birlam and Osama had a joking cameraderie that was fun to be around and put me at ease with these two.
This ease was in spite of our location, which, along with Nablus is one of the most traditional cities in the West Bank with strong anti-Israel sentiment.
There's a history of bloodshed on both sides. The Saturday we were there, and most days, the occupants, both Israeli and Palestinians, seemed to coexist, ignoring each other like cows of different colors locked in the same field. However, for a newcomer like me, the situation was shocking. The settlements divide the city, displaying a microcosm of what's going on in the whole area. The drama is played out street by street.
A local group was trying to make a clear point about where we were:
We walked through the old city, near what used to be the main street, called Shuhada Street. Shuhada Street was shut down by the Israeli army in 1994 to car traffic, and later, to foot traffic. The economic heart of the city was lost, with 570 Palestinian shops shutting down, and many residents moving out.
It looked like the same group with the red paint was at work again.
We emerged into a square - the center of Hebron. Ahead were Israeli soldiers guarding a settlement entrance.
To our left was a large stone structure, topped by a fence and what appeared to be some male Israeli settlers. They looked down at us, who were obviously tourists, and blew kisses. I took a photo and they instantly went from kiss-blowing to finger-wagging.
Walking more, we saw a street that was literally divided, with a large portion open for Israeli cars, and a side portion open for Palestinian pedestrians. The Israeli army was providing security to a small group of settlers who appeared to be on a tour. As one settler joined the group, he marched down the center of the road, flanked by solders. He stood out in civilian clothes next to the soldiers, and he held an assault rifle in front of him. I wanted to take a photo, but chickened out because we were too close to him. And he had a gun.
After that, we circled back through the portions of the market that remain open. I was eager to see the famous netting that protects the open-air market from the settlers who live in buildings that tower over the market. This netting protects them from the trash that settlers have been reported to throw down on them. I didn't see anyone throwing anything, but we were there on Shabbat, the Jewish holy day of rest.
After the market walk, during which we momentarily and unseriously considered purchasing a Santa Claus Argila...
...We went out for a meal and argila with Birlam and Osama.
The whole day, Osama was teasing Birlam about her thick fleece pants. I admired them; they were embroidered with colorful flowers and looked like a smart choice for a cold day. But like a playful younger brother, Osama kept teasing her, calling her pants "pajama pants." He kept finding moments to make reference to the fact that she was in her pajamas. She laughed along good-naturedly. Birlam heads up the regional office in Hebron, and her large extended family has great esteem in the city. Everywhere we went people greeted her with respect, and she greeted them with a friendly word. Later in the day, after another jab about her "pajama pants," Osama said "Well, I better be careful. With one phone call you could have me killed." Birlam grinned.
"Forget the phone call. With one word. My relatives are everywhere."
I asked Charming about the fact that Birlam seemed so, well, happy, compared to what I perceive as the busy, worried, and nonpublic lives of women in Palestine. He responded that she was well-connected, respected, had a good job, didn't take any bull****, and was not married. So my interpretation is that by not being married in this culture, she was able to keep her sense of independence and self-determination. On the not taking any bull**** front, she told us a story about driving in traffic. Someone cut her off, thinking, she said, "that he could because she was a woman." Well, she jumped out of her car and started yelling at him, and soon had him apologizing upside down and sideways.
Oh, I almost forgot one of the most sense-stimulating parts of the day, which was a visit to the Hebron Kefiya factory. Our tour guides said it was the only Kefiya factory in Palestine.
I chose a few Kafiyas for gifts for my upcoming trip to NC to see the family (you can see photos of them in Kafiya's here).
And that is what I remember from a full day in Hebron back in December. Hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment below; I love reading your comments.