The Shirt that Attracted the Catholics...

Reformation Day!

As I'm sure ALL of you have marked on your calendars...October 31 was not only Halloween, but REFORMATION DAY!!! Now, I have always kind of known that this day existed, but the day has never really been more than a passing thought on Halloween. It has never really meant something to me. However, on this October 31, that all changed.

Basically everyone I know in the Holy Land went to Redeemer in the Old City for a special service. It was packed! There was this really cool procession at the beginning where the Protestant clergy from all of these different countries walked in. There were men and women from the USA and Canada (I think they were all Lutheran..I actually think everyone who processed was Lutheran even though my Scottish Presby friend was asked), Finland, Denmark, Germany (3 pastors), Norway, and Jerusalem. They were all wearing their regional robes and fancy things and you know how I feel about that stuff...I was like a kid in a candy store! OH! And Bishop Younan walked in with a pope-like hat and his gold shepherd's staff. It was so cool!!! Well, the bulletins were in German (yikes) and a lot of the service and songs were in German, but every once in a while (for really important stuff) they would have one person from the three major languages in the area (German, English, and Arabic) go up to the mic. It was just so cool and overwhelming to be in this packed cathedral with Protestants from all over the world! The service was an hour and forty minutes, but I didn't notice b/c it was just such a special moment in my life. It was also really overwhelming when we all sang "A Mighty Fortress"!! Even though it was in German, the place was thundering!! Protestants are such a small, small population, but we went crazy that night!!

Then after the service there was a reception. As we were leaving the cathedral I noticed that all of these Catholic priests, nuns, monks and Orthodox, Coptic, and Syrian priests showed up!! I flipped out! WHAT WERE THEY DOING THERE!?!? They even came to the reception and one monk came up to me and introduced himself and said that he was having a great time (I had changed into my "Luther is My Homeboy" tee-shirt even though it was a formal occasion). I asked my boss what they were all doing there and he said, "When Christians as a whole make up less than 1% of the population, you become really supportive of each other...You can't afford not to." That really made me happy. The whole night was just a really great night and I can't believe I got to be here for Reformation Day! (Now it has become painfully obvious how much of a Church History nerd I have really become.)

The Olive Harvest

I don’t know how to relay “The Olive Harvest” to my friends and family back home. For anyone who knows me AT ALL, it is pretty obvious that I’m not an outdoorsy kind of girl. I’m just not. Never was. I just want you to keep this in mind when I talk about this.

My job during harvesting season has been to clear and prepare the olive trees so that groups can come in and pick the trees for us. *SIDENOTE: The olives are made into olive oil, which are then sold all over the world. The money is then used for “The Poor Fund”, which aids Palestinian people who come in to the hospital and don’t have the money to pay for medical help.* There are about 800 trees that Brit and I have to go out and clear. Now, I know you’re asking yourself, “What do you mean by ‘clearing’ Stephanie?” Well, here is where the pain comes in.

Brit and I go out with clippers and mini saws and clear out all weeds, unwanted plants, and suckers (which are new braches that sprout near the base of the tree and use up a lot of water and sun, but don’t produce any olives). Alright, this doesn’t sound so bad right? Wrong. Just imagine the kind of weeds that can possibly last and thrive in the desert. These weeds have thorns like you wouldn’t imagine!! My arms and legs look like I either am suffering from millions of paper cuts or that a cat decided to use my limbs as a scratching post (and this is with pants and long shirts on). Alas, there is also the MULTITUDE of blisters that have formed and popped on my hands. On my first night after we started, I couldn’t open a door handle or squeeze a lotion bottle. My hands look like they have leprosy.

Then there’s Mother Nature. The olive grove is planted in what I can only describe as dust. It’s not sand and it’s not dirt. It looks and feels a lot like a combination of dust and ash. This, in turn, attacks the body and laughs hysterically. By the end of the day, we are COVERED in dirt (imagine that Peanuts character)! It is pretty hilarious when we come in and the only part of our bodies that aren’t almost black is where our sunglasses were. We just have a funny imprint of where our glasses used to be. It gets EVERYWHERE! When I blow my nose, I blow out dirt. After a shower, when I’m cleaning my ears, dirt. I go to the bathroom and pee dirt. It’s like glitter (don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about). I’m fairly certain when I get home, I’ll still be finding dirt 6 months from now.

The second punishment that Mother Nature has decided to inflict on us, is the weather. It’s supposed to be Fall here. It’s supposed to be cool enough to wear long sleeve shirts and still be cold. It almost snowed last year at this time. And yet… It has been AT LEAST 100 degrees the last four days. It was 114 degrees in the sun yesterday. Let me repeat that for you…one hundred and fourteen degrees!! Working out in this heat is ridiculous!!

OK. Now here’s the part where I stop complaining and count my lucky stars (although I would almost kill for a little AC).

I’m seriously helping a lot of VERY needy people. This is really cool and I’m honored that I can do anything to help the people who need it the most. The blisters, dirt, heat, unexpected bugs, olive branches smacking me in the face, dehydration…it’s all worth it.

There are also some really cool people who donate their own time to come and volunteer to pick our olives. Today, the US Consulate came out in droves (on their day off) to spend their whole morning and afternoon-in the heat and dirt-to pick olives for us. They were some of the coolest people and they didn’t complain once. They then broke out this amazing BBQ/picnic (actually invited us to join) and we all got to have amazing food from home (including some seriously awesome Smores) and talk about living in Jerusalem!! Who does that?!?! Who gets to laugh, talk, and hang out with the coolest people who just happen to be the US Consulate?!?!

As much as I hate the outdoors and I can’t wait to be home in a library reading and researching---I am having the time of my life out here! I’m doing things that I NEVER thought I would be doing! I don’t know what I did right, but I am one seriously lucky chick!

Frustration

I realized this week that I haven't written in a while and I wondered why. It's not because of lack of things to write about. If anything, this week has been more "exciting" then any of the others. Then I realized it's because I'm not "allowed" to talk about anything I've experienced in the last week.

I'm just getting so sick and tired of having to stay silent and having to lie. I have to walk around all of the time, lying about who I am and why I'm here because of safety issues. Then I can't talk about what I see or go through with my family and friends, because it's against the law and I could get kicked out of the country (or worse, cause serious harm to my co-workers). I have to be cautious about what I write in e-mails or facebook or what I say on Skype because the government reads and listens. I have so much to say and write about! There are infuriating things that happened to me this week, but I'm not allowed to say anything!! I even have to lie to the cab driver about why I live where I live instead of in West Jerusalem because I don't want to bring any unwanted attention!! UGH!!! I'm so sick of this!!

Yom Kippur

Yesterday was Yom Kippur-the Day of Atonement in the Jewish faith. I had previous plans to go to Petra this weekend, but my boss said that Yom Kippur in Jerusalem is something that needs to be experienced; even if it is only once. About a week before the holiday, we all got e-mails from the government (well really it was really just my boss, who then forwarded them to us) telling us what cities and check points were shut down. Basically, if you didn’t live in Jerusalem (even if you worked here and had a pass and everything), you weren’t coming in. There was also a declaration that no cars could be driven on the Jewish half of Jerusalem.

My friend Brit and I decided that we were going to go to the Western Wall and then to the uber-orthodox neighborhood of Meah Sharim. If you haven’t heard of Meah Sharim, it is a VERY orthodox neighborhood in Jerusalem that has decided to basically stay in the 18^th century. So they shy away from cars and technology and basically everything they want is within their neighborhood.

The Urban Dictionary eloquently defines it as:

A extremely religious city in Jerusalem that is known for being very conservative. It is filled with Haredi Jews that will woop your ass if you break a Jewish rule or expose too much skin.

When people come back saying that they were literally stoned for having shorts or a tee shirt on (Mom), this is probably where they were. So, Brit and I dressed up in our Yum Kippur best to try to look as much like an orthodox Jew as possible. Although, my boss rightfully stated that we weren’t trying to trick anyone into thinking we were orthodox, we were just trying not to offend anyone.

After the Western Wall (which was really cool, but can someone tell me why so many Jews sleep there over night during Shabbat and high holy days?), Brit and I headed to Meah Sharim. At first, it was really cool. Right near the entrance of the neighborhood were all of these orthodox Jewish kids playing with each other. This was a new site for us due to the fact that we live on the Muslim half of Jerusalem. We hardly get to see the Jewish community.

We then started walking through the neighborhood. There were so many children playing in the streets, men walking to services, and women pushing children in carriages. It was amazing to see all of these people in their orthodox dress! It really was like going back in time. My Church History self was loving it!

However, once we got about a block in, there was a noticeable change in the air. All of a sudden, I felt SO uncomfortable and slightly in danger. All of these people were staring at us and there were LARGE signs saying how unwelcome outsiders were (in large red lettering no less…I’m not joking. Red letters are REALLY scary!). It was the first time since I’ve been here that I have really felt scared. I was seriously terrified.

People had told us that to get out of Meah Sharim, you just walk 5 blocks in whatever direction. False. IF that is true, those were the longest 5 blocks of my life. 3 blocks in, I was literally praying that the end of Meah Sharim would come so that I could just get out. I haven’t wanted something so badly in a LONG time.

Well, eventually we got out (thankfully without getting hurt or having to talk to anyone-including each other. Brit and I both felt the same thing and not a word passed between us until we were a safe distance away. There was about an hour of silence) then we had to walk all the way back to the Muslim half of Jerusalem so that we could catch a bus and get home. My feet were black from walking so much!

Even though I was a little terrified, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. I’m really glad I did it and I will remember this Yom Kippur for the rest of my life. However, I’m never going there again. Mission accomplished scary red signs!

MMmmm...Mmmmm...Sanitation

As my Scottish friend, Ian (shout out!), so eagerly pointed out, I've been on quite the emotional roller coaster recently. So, I decided I would get off the Debbie Downer track and go onto the, "Aren't You Glad You Have Sanitation Laws?" track. This'll be fun!

Around here you get all of your produce and meat right down the street. Since everything is so fresh, you just kind of go to stands and butchers a couple times a week instead of once every couple of weeks (like you would do at home). I actually really like this and have gotten some what used to it. However, I don't think I will ever get used to the butcher here!

The reason we go to this one, as opposed to others, is because 1. he's down the street and 2. he actually has a refrigerator that he uses to put his meat in...sometimes. Just to give you a glimpse into a weekly meat shop experience, I thought I would take you through the first time I went to get chicken (and basically every time).

Stephanie walks in to EXTREMELY small and warm butcher shop at the end of the day. Butcher has nice pants and shirt on (points), but where is his apron? He is slicing a massive piece of lamb that's hanging from a hook in the middle of the room (normal-ish) with his bare hands (not so normal). So he's going after this meat (grossing me out already), using all of these different knives, and putting in on the scales. He wraps up the meat, hands it to the person ahead of me, and asks me what I want.

"Chicken. 3 Chicken breasts."

Great! So he wipes his hands on his shirt (gross), uses the sames knives that he used on the lamb on the chicken (oh yeah. that's what I like.), places the on the already REALLY bloody scale (yum), then places it on a equally bloody wood table (ugh! Salmonella), and wraps it up. It is then that I ask myself the question, "why aren't there any sinks in this room?" (nervous whimper)

"33 shekles."

OK. I hand him a 100 shekle paper note. He reaches into his pocket with his very bloody hands and pulls out a wad of cash and hands me my bloody change (appetizing!). I walk out and die a little while my friend says, "well, it COULD be worse!" Yes. But not by much.

Maybe you guys aren't as grossed out as I am every time I get meat there, but I GUARANTEE that if you were here, you would AT LEAST cringe...even the littlest bit!

I don't know if I'm cut out for this...

I know, for my own safety and the safety of my co-workers, that I am not allowed to talk about anything political on my blog. That's been really hard as I've been writing this, but I have something I need to get off of my chest. I think I can manage to be pretty ambiguous, but we'll see.

I work all week and my weekends are designated for adventures and sightseeing. Stuff that everyone else gets to see while they visit, but that I don't get to see during the week because I'm working. I look forward to these weekends. They are my break from heavy stuff all week. Well, this weekend was up in the air, so I asked around the group that I go on adventures with to see what they wanted to do. One person sent a suggestion and it's just weighing on me a little.

There are MANY cities, towns, and Bedouins that have had their water completely cut off. Their crops die, their animals die, and they have 1/3 of the water that their neighbors (who legally shouldn't be there) have. I've been asked to join a group of people to go down with trucks and deliver some water.

This is a really cool opportunity. I realize this. I acknowledge this. But the other half of me just doesn't know if I can handle seeing this horrible stuff. I hear the most atrocious stories all week. My heart is heavy all of the time. I know that so many people (most of the people I'm in community with), get revved up when stuff like this comes along. They are ready to drop everything and run. Please don't get me wrong. I want to help! That's what I came here for. But I just don't know if I can handle very much more sadness and depression added on to the weight that I carry with me all week anyway. The injustice and unfairness is staggering. Most nights I either stare at a wall imagining that it MUST be made up or I cry.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I just needed to get that off of my chest.