With Open Doors

In planning the trip to Nablus, I made sure that Waseim understood clearly that we needed to leave Nablus in time for me to get back, showered and dressed for Nasri’s engagement party. Nasri is Ranim’s brother, to be engaged to his fiancé Rula. Engagement among the Palestinians is real big. It is all very formal and very public. The engagement party is the responsibility of the boy’s parents. The local priest comes and does a ceremony. There is a blessing and exchange of rings, to be worn on the right hand until the wedding. A couple hundred people come to the rented hall, with just a three days notice, all dressed in their best. All are to be present and seated before the boy comes in with the girl, in a very formal entrance. There is music and a little dancing, a bit of champaign, a piece or two of candy, a piece of cake, and everyone goes home. All is over in a couple hours. The boy goes home to his parent’s house; the girl goes home with her parents, which is where they stay until the wedding, however long that might be. Being engaged, they are now permitted to date and be seen alone in public. “We don’t do things the way they are done in America,” I have been told frequently. During the party Ranim was constantly watching hand checking in on me. I sat with her soon-to-be fiancé, Amir, and his parents Kane brother. He and they were welcoming and kind. You may have read in a previous post that I told Ranim that I hated him even before I met him. I told Ranim after the party that I am worried, because I am beginning to like Amir. She smiled, and said she hoped that one day I will love him. Obviously, she does.

Don’t ever tell anyone from Nablus that you think Ramallah is bigger than Nablus. In population, Nablus is second to Hebron. In area, Nablus is bigger than Hebron. Ramallah is third in both categories. Now you know.

Nablus is known for its production of soap. These bars were all cut and stacked, and will be wrapped by hand. My return suitcase will carry a couple bars home.

If something is really good, or there is something that you really like, it can be said to be “swe-e-e-et!” Drag out that “e”as long as you can. Nablus is said to have the best kanafe you can find. In old Nablus we ate at the place that is supposed to have the best of the best, a new tray out of the oven very two minutes, and served hot. It is swe-e-e-et! That is Waseim with me, or rather, that’s me with Waseim.

It was many hours – but it seemed like a short time – that I sat on the balcony and at the family table for stories, laughs, food and drinks with Issa’s mom and dad, his two brothers and his sister, the princess. At the end of dinner, we watched one performer on “Arab Idol.” For the first time, there is a Palestinian contestant. He is good. The Palestinians are so excited. I sure do hope he wins. Samia is a fan, can you tell? One other thing that you would obviously see if you were in their home or in their presence for even a short times: victor and Samia really love each other a lot!

Not only does Victor make my “priest shirts” in his tailor shop. He also cooked up one tasty display of meats on the grill at his home with his family. I learned a new way to “fan” the coals.

One of the patrons of our St. Andrew bingo, who reads this blog, handed me a $100 bill one Tuesday night before I left Milford, “Here is something for the nuns that have that school for the children in that valley that is being taken from the nuns and the children.” The nuns are grateful. This is a photo of me taking a photo of “your” school, Shirley.

Three ago I spent a couple hours in the emergency room of the Beit Jala hospital that is seen on the top of the hill looking down on Cremisan Valley. It has a name, but I refer to it as “my hospital.”

An honor it was to be with Father Gabriel and Father Mario to celebrate Mass with the hope-filled faithful in Cremisan Valley, an area of Beit Jala that is being taken from the Palestinian people of Beit Jala, unless God chooses to somehow intervene, that is. “Thy will and kingdom come on earth …. trespasses: forgive ours, and we, theirs …. deliver us from evil.” In the petitions I heard “Robert” and “America.” They prayed for us!

I am looking at the names of our “HOPE” teachers and folks from Cincinnati signed into the bottom of the chalice that they left in Beit Jala for Masses to be celebrated in the Cremisan Valley.