Driver's Education and Pregnant Men
An hour ago, I descended a hot Egged bus from Haifa, where I was hosted by one of my friends, Rana, and her lovely family. Rana was one of the Arab-Israeli participants in Hands of Peace, summer 2003, when we were the founding members of this new Israeli-Palestinian conflict-resolution program.
Her entire family hosted me in such a gracious way, really making me feel like the role of guest was one of distinction and honor - from showing me around Haifa, bringing me to the beach and a new cafe with some of Rana and her sister's friends, to preparing Arabic food (that they don't otherwise exclusively eat) during meals.

Rana's family and I

In a new cafe, downtown, with Tamar and Rana
On Saturday, my friend Tamar, a Jewish-Israeli participant in HOP, picked up Rana, her sister and I, and took us to Acco, an ancient, coastal Arab village. There, the old stone churches, mosques and walls were beautifully framed by the azure waves of the Mediterranean. If I could just bottle some salty breezes and the sounds of sighing waves, and bring them to Jerusalem!
After Tamar dropped us back off at Rana's family's apartment, we got into her father's car to go out for lunch at a restaurant where, in order to help me decide what fish I wanted, the waitress brought both fish, partly gutted, to my place at the table, and, upon noticing a flicker of indecisiveness cross my brow, left them in front of me!
Her father is a driver's education instructor, and had to move the big "lamed" (Hebrew letter "L") sign that's usually on top of these cars from the back seat to the trunk before I got in. Though I was tackled by a few moments of bewilderment during the drive, I guess it was appropriate to Israel that he occasionally ran red lights.
After lunch, Rana's family brought me to a Druze village, where we spent some time in the shuk (market place). After first learning this a month or so, ago, I continued to be fascinated by the fact that Druze men wear pants styled with large pockets hanging down nearly to the men's knees because of the Druze belief that a man will give birth to a prophet at any moment.
On our way back to Haifa, we paid a brief visit to Rana's extended family's house. Rana's sister explained to me that this complex of apartments contained her grandmother, cousin's family, and several aunts and uncles. Apparently this phenomenon is common in villages, but not cities. Rana's mom told me that this is where she (Rana's mom) was born, so the property's been in the family for a long time.

Rana seemed to have a weakness for posing with silly hats everywhere we went!
Her entire family hosted me in such a gracious way, really making me feel like the role of guest was one of distinction and honor - from showing me around Haifa, bringing me to the beach and a new cafe with some of Rana and her sister's friends, to preparing Arabic food (that they don't otherwise exclusively eat) during meals.


On Saturday, my friend Tamar, a Jewish-Israeli participant in HOP, picked up Rana, her sister and I, and took us to Acco, an ancient, coastal Arab village. There, the old stone churches, mosques and walls were beautifully framed by the azure waves of the Mediterranean. If I could just bottle some salty breezes and the sounds of sighing waves, and bring them to Jerusalem!
After Tamar dropped us back off at Rana's family's apartment, we got into her father's car to go out for lunch at a restaurant where, in order to help me decide what fish I wanted, the waitress brought both fish, partly gutted, to my place at the table, and, upon noticing a flicker of indecisiveness cross my brow, left them in front of me!
Her father is a driver's education instructor, and had to move the big "lamed" (Hebrew letter "L") sign that's usually on top of these cars from the back seat to the trunk before I got in. Though I was tackled by a few moments of bewilderment during the drive, I guess it was appropriate to Israel that he occasionally ran red lights.
After lunch, Rana's family brought me to a Druze village, where we spent some time in the shuk (market place). After first learning this a month or so, ago, I continued to be fascinated by the fact that Druze men wear pants styled with large pockets hanging down nearly to the men's knees because of the Druze belief that a man will give birth to a prophet at any moment.
On our way back to Haifa, we paid a brief visit to Rana's extended family's house. Rana's sister explained to me that this complex of apartments contained her grandmother, cousin's family, and several aunts and uncles. Apparently this phenomenon is common in villages, but not cities. Rana's mom told me that this is where she (Rana's mom) was born, so the property's been in the family for a long time.

3 Comments:
You DID buy the hat - right?! It's SO you!
haha. if i'd have bought every hat that rana and i tried on in the various shuks we visited, i wouldn't have been able to carry them all back home!
Oh, that hat is SO fabulous!
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