Our Ulpan is over, and about twenty of us are on a four-day excursion to Tel Aviv for our short break, which includes Purim. As the basic formula for Jewish holidays goes: Someone tried to kill the Jews; By some unlikely luck or resilience, the Jews are not dead; Let's celebrate! Purim is the epitome of this concept and the celebrations in Tel Aviv are across the board. A group of Hassidim dance in circles, little kids dress up as fruit and zombies, and the streets are filled with DJs, music and people of all ages roaming around. Day and night. ...continue reading "Purim"
Tag: Middle East
Cookies and Cooperatives
By ahblackwell
For the past week, I have been traveling through Morocco on a southern excursion with my program. The trip has taken us from the coast of Rabat to the cedar forests of the Middle Atlas Mountains, through the first dunes of the Saharan Desert, west through the High Atlas Mountains, and back up to the beaches of Essaouira. There have been so many highlights of the excursion that it is almost impossible to name my favorite part. However, the purpose behind the trip, visiting NGOs and associations dedicated to the education and well-being of women and children in rural areas, has been both interesting and enlightening. ...continue reading "Cookies and Cooperatives"
Not Your Average Pet
By Adar
Haifa is a city filled with nature. Hills, forests, shrubbery and very strange animals. Here are a few you may come across in normal, urban areas (though the latter four are mainly in the park)
Cats.
For those who have never been to Israel this may be unfamiliar, but the streets are ridden with undomesticated cats. During the mandate, the British brought over a lot of cats to kill the rats. The rats left and the cats stayed. One day while I was sitting outside playing guitar, three cats came over to where I was and just sat and listened (albeit suspiciously). It was weird, and I’m scared to already be turning into a cat lady. And they go everywhere. They sit on your doorstep, they scamper around inside academic buildings. They wait with you at the bus station.
Hyrax
Kind of like a bunny, but uglier, the hyrax is an animal that can be found near the sea, on rockier shores. We saw quite a few at Rosh Hanikra.
Wild Boars
No joke, there are wild boars in Haifa. Because we are practically inside the national park, which includes all manner of wildlife, occasionally a few boars from the woods with wander into the streets of Haifa. Don’t mess with the mamas. 
Golden Jackal
Along with the boars, the jackals are mainly found in the National Park. I haven’t personally seen one yet, but I imagine seeing one will feel a bit like seeing my life flash before my eyes.
Egyptian Mongoose
I think this is probably the weirdest looking creature found in Haifa. Again, in the national park (which is about a seven minute walk from my dorms). 
The Old and the New
By ahblackwell
I stood on my tip toes, my elbows resting on the cool stone wall and my chin sitting on my hands. The green stretching before me wound its way through rows of carefully planted vegetables until it joined the maze of leaves and trees and climbed up the hills before us in smooth, perfectly partitioned grass. Long boney trees jutted out of the grass, their knotted gray bark standing out darkly against the vibrancy of the green hills, and sprouted large twisting nests at the tops of their trunks where storks were perched and clicking happily. I turned to retrace my steps back along the stone wall, but not before pausing to drink in the serenity of the green space before me.Following my friends as we walked single file and chatted about the beauty of the countryside surrounding us, I shielded my eyes against the afternoon sun that was making its way from behind the clouds that had been darkening the walls of the expansive towers around us. We meandered our way through the stone paths that took us up and out of the ancient site, making sure not to trip over the tumbling rocks that made up the inside of the fortress. We passed under the crumbling brown walls of the gate that has been standing for almost 2,000 years and turned towards our city, its traffic and noises rushing back into our senses. Challah, the great stone walls that stood behind us, were built in 40 A.D. to protect an early Roman fort. They encircle expansive grounds that hold the stone outlines of ancient bedrooms and public baths. The mosque’s minaret stands tall and beautiful against the Rabatii sky, its blues and turquoises and oranges only slightly worn thanks to occasional up-keep of the building. ...continue reading "The Old and the New"
When in Rabat, Do as the Rabatiis
By ahblackwell
“Nemshiioo,” said Mama Fatiha around eight on Saturday evening. I’ve learned a good amount of Darija in the past week, but after only two days of attempts at translating in my homestay, I only knew this as “We’re going.” I slipped on my boots and took my time tying them, which I’ve realized inconveniences my family members (who wear slip-on shoes) more than I expected, and headed out the door with Khouloud, Khalid, and Mama Fatiha. I followed close behind them down several windy streets until we ended up in front of a door on a street that I recognized as being close to my school. I could hear a number of voices overhead, and as we climbed the stairs to the top floor, I realized this was not the normal evening visit that I had already become accustomed to. The room we walked into was filled with women and young girls, several of which I was relieved to discover were my fellow students. After several minutes, the situation of the evening was explained to me. We had gathered for Hiba’s birthday, the 6-year-old daughter of Saana, who is the daughter of Mama Hafida, my friend Kayla’s homestay mother. Mama Hafida is my homestay father’s sister or cousin or some type of relative, which makes Kayla and I distant cousins of some kind. Hiba was running around with an electric blue silk kaftan (the traditional dress for Muslim women, worn by Moroccan women at special events), silver bedazzled dress-up high heels, a beaded necklace, and a tiara, and it was easy to tell that it was her birthday with little explanation. The evening commenced with dancing in a tiny side room. One of the older daughters tied a scarf around her hips and began to dance, her arms raised above her head. One by one, the other girls rose and pulled us up with them, and soon we were all shaking our hips to the beats of the music. Throughout the rest of the evening, which consisted mostly of eating, we were abruptly pulled from the couches and told to dance. At one point the courtyard outside exploded with drums and shrill horns and we were all rushed outside to dance with the musicians who had come to surprise Hiba. Mama Fatiha did not gather Khouloud, Khalid and I to leave until almost one in the morning, at which point, belly full and legs sore from dancing, I was more than willing to leave. We walked home in a content silence and rolled into our beds, the Medina sleeping silently around us.
Every moment I spend with Khouloud and Mama Fatiha, the more I am impressed by the lives of women, here in Rabat. For all young girls, as far as I have seen, the day is spent in school and the night is spent visiting friends and family and gossiping over tea and cookies and cakes. Although Moroccan girls are not encouraged to “go out” to clubs and bars late at night, their evenings could not be more social. Together, women talk and laugh while huddled together under large blankets on their couches, or cry while they watch the evening’s dramatic talk shows, or dance to the songs on the radio as they move throughout the house in their pajama pants, bringing out more and more plates of food. The camaraderie between women in this medina is enviable, and I feel so lucky to be a part of it for the few months that I am staying with Mama Fatiha and Baba Bouselham, in Rabat.
On Wednesday night, I had another intimate bonding experience with my family that I cannot imagine is shared between men. Kayla and I accompanied Mama Fatiha and Khouloud to the hammam, or the public bath that is a popular destination for Moroccans. Khalid, as a young boy, was allowed to tag along. In the steamy room, stripped down to nothing but underwear or less, we all sat on tiny stools next to our own buckets of hot water and scrubbed and shaved and shampooed for over two hours. Mama Fatiha rubbed me down with henna (similar to clay), Khouloud scrubbed my back with a keess, and I shaved my legs while laughing about Khalid dunking his entire head into his bucket. I gossiped with Kayla and my host mother for hours as I repeatedly poured hot water over my head and watched my dead skin run down the tile floor and into the drain at the back of the room. Men also go to the hammam; it is not strictly an experience for women. However, the general comfort and normalcy I felt while laughing and talking with my family as we all sat around naked and scrubbing each other was something that, as I have heard from talking to my classmates, only the women share. Not only was the hammam something I thoroughly enjoyed and plan to do at least once a week (I have never felt so clean in my entire life), but it was also a place where the dynamics of gender and humility, which are so present in Muslim cultures, are completely erased. As an American woman in Rabat, I exist in a domain where I am not held to the local norms that young Moroccan women are responsible for maintaining. However, living with a family in the medina has allowed me to experience the lives of women who are so often misunderstood and doused with western assumptions. My little sister Khouloud and her cousins and classmates constantly experience restrictions that exist simply because they are female; however, they also experience a world full of love and laughter that most men are prevented from entering, and it is a world that I will cherish as long as I am living in the medina.
Come as a Tourist, Leave as a Pilgrim
By Adar
There’s a saying in Nazareth that if you come as a tourist, you’ll leave as a Pilgrim: and if you come as a Pilgrim you’ll leave feeling holy.
Though that saying may be hyperbolic, I will say I found it very cool to walk through the hometown of the most famous person in modern history. And further, to see what kind of society stands there today. As far as I could tell, Nazareth is primarily Arab residents and has a large religious Christian population (not surprisingly). The Christians are Roman Catholic and Orthodox. I got an opportunity to walk through both sects’ Church of the Annunciation to see the differences The Church of the Annunciation is where Mary was met by an angel who told her she would give birth to Jesus. Though I personally would find that conversation a little unsettling, two churches were built in honor of it. The orthodox church is covered in paintings, and is bright and decorative with Armenian-looking patterns on its walls. It has a simple main room and many decorative altars. The Catholic one has engravings etched into the facade of important figures, and is absolutely huge. The bottom floor is where supposedly the exact location of the announcement was held (first holy site of the semester!) And above it there is a sanctuary with a beautiful pyramid ceiling. In the Catholic church, nearly all of the walls hold representations of Mary from every country with a large Catholic population. That aspect was absolutely beautiful.
One of my favorite moments of the day was standing in the courtyard of the church and hearing the loud call to prayer from a nearby mosque. The juxtaposition of cultures and religions that remains harmoniously in Nazareth is something I deeply admire. I was thinking about why this can’t be the case in more places. And I think that maybe part of it is that Nazareth is an old city. It is a place that people live in because their families have never moved out, or because they came solely to practice their religion and don’t deal with those from other faiths all that much. It is not a city I would find myself moving to. Maybe the reason it functions with different cultures is not because it’s learned to deal with it better than much of the country, but because it hasn’t yet dealt with modern changes in politically charged faith. There is still much for me to understand.
Though I don’t think I became a Pilgrim after my trip to Nazareth, I was certainly glad to have gone.
Meeting and learning to greet :)
By mashod93
I recently received my placement of volunteer, which is working at an Oromo center in Old Maadi, Cairo, and I couldn't be happier!! I have been working with Oromo refugees that have been kicked out of Ethiopia and, most of them, smuggled across the boarders of Sudan. All of them forced to leave their families and sense of home behind, it has been amazing to see how willing and excited they are to learn English.
There is a very mixed group as far as levels of comprehension and vocabulary go so... ...continue reading "Meeting and learning to greet :)"
Working Hard
By Adar
I've been spending a fair amount of time with two of my Israeli roommates, who come from very distinct backgrounds. Iris is a Sabra. She was born and raised in a small town nearby, made up of almost all Israelis. She did the IDF and then worked in Tel Aviv for a year; then she started studying Communications and Sociology in Haifa. She's a tough girl, but with a friendly smile and jokester attitude. She wakes up late, stays up late, and is thoroughly annoyed (rightfully so) if there's too much noise in the morning. She goes out with friends often, and is holed up in her room studying for finals much of the time I've been here. I met Iris the first hour I arrived, and she offered me delicious food that she and a friend had just made. She's a no-nonsense kind of person, and gets right down to the point of things. ...continue reading "Working Hard"
You Can’t Catch a Cab on Shabbat
By Adar
In Israel, as is Jewish tradition, the weekend is one day from sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday, or Shabbat -- the day of rest. While in most places the weekends are busy for businesses and public transportation, on Shabbat Israel shuts down. This happens more in some places than others, and because Haifa has a large non-Jewish population, many things are still open and running. But much is still closed down or very much reduced. ...continue reading "You Can’t Catch a Cab on Shabbat"
Time to Adjust
By ahblackwell
My first week in Rabat is not even over, yet, and I already feel as though I could not possibly take in anything more. I’m excited to see myself after the end of the program. The amount of adjustments we (the other students in the program and I) have made over the past few days are endless, and yet we still seem to stick out. The biggest adjustment so far has definitely been learning how to walk through the souk (market) in the Medina (the old Arab part of the city). As a woman, especially a woman who is noticeably foreign, it is best to walk through streets without making much eye contact. I have never been so aware of my body language as I have been in the past few days. The more I have gotten to know the streets and the people, however, the more comfortable I feel about saying salaam (hello) and smiling at people. The first day that we arrived in Rabat, we dropped off our luggage in an old hotel and then headed for the Center for Cross Cultural Language, the center that hosts our program for the semester. From the outside, buildings in the Medina look old and worn down and poverty-stricken. However, when I walked inside the CCCL’s building, I was pleasantly surprised to see this is not truly the case. The whole building is covered in colorful tiles and curvy Andalousian architecture. A large enclosed courtyard dominates the middle of the first and second floors with archways dripping with engraved flowers and tresses. In order to get up to the cafeteria and the roof, or the terrace as our directors refer to it, you have to climb winding tile stairways that branch off into tiny doors and other mosaic-filled hallways. After exploring the building and meeting our directors, we headed down Rue Mohammed V and through the souk to a restaurant where we were having dinner. At first the souk terrified me because of its masses of people and smells and noises. However, after navigating it a few times and bargaining in Arabic with shopkeepers over the prices of the items, I’ve learned to love the souk. ...continue reading "Time to Adjust"