TYO mini-cameo

Students of the World does some great videos for TYO, and they interviewed me for one. It's a teeny-tiny cameo, that I did after leaving TYO to work for Souktel. Souktel provides SMS services for the local university volunteers, so my participation was as alum-cum-partner, but I guess that video didn't get made. In any case, these videos are extremely well done and all by students who have little to no familiarity with documentary production. It's really impressive and gives TYO some great PR material.

In other news, I've left Palestine and have started law school. I miss it every day. Haven't figured out what to do with this blog yet, especially as I'm nobody reads it anymore, if they ever did. Now that I'm no longer in Palestine, I feel a little freer to make this blog a bit more political, but there are so many people out there that do that better, I'm not sure what I'd add to the canon, but we'll see.

Ode to White Girls

I've always been hard to peg, appearance-wise. My middle-toned skin, my curls, the shape of my nose and lips... all of it seems to just confuse people, and especially so when I was little. A strange need to categorize me as a child prompted the abrupt question "what are you?" I don't know if my circles have changed as I've gotten older, or if people's preoccupation with race has subsided, or if it is just not as easy to question an adult about herself as it is a child, but I rarely get this question anymore.

Naturally, as a child, I think I would have preferred to be less ambiguous, but as I get older I've grown much more comfortable with the way that I look. And, as it turns out, the way I look is also extremely useful for someone who likes to travel a lot. Suddenly, everyone looking at me quizzically because I was different turned into everyone ignoring me because I looked the same. This has been true in almost every country I've visited outside of East Asia. Peru - check. Brazil - check. Portugal - check. Palestine - check!

And even if I don't quite look like the natives of whatever country I happen to be in, I have another trick up my sleeve-- I am brown. And in the colonial legacies left in so many countries, I am just not interesting. My color hasn't been fetishized. Nobody is buying skin cream to look like me. While I certainly haven't gone completely unnoticed, and I have had uncomfortable (sometimes disgusting) moments of sexual harassment, I am for the most part let be.

Of course it's hard to notice the absence of something. I didn't become aware of the privilege of my anonymity, my undesirability, until I ventured out with my fairer friends. The catcalls got worse. The staring became unbearable. The turning heads. The honking cars. It made me cringe.

So this is my ode to the white girls of Ramallah. I don't know if I could endure what you do on a daily basis. I know you don your sunglasses and your earphones and look steely eyed ahead of you. And you stick it out cuz you're tough. Tougher than I am, hiding behind my nondescript looks. :)

A Strange Sense of Honor

I went to a "musical protest" today at Qalandia, the massive checkpoint that separates Jerusalem from Ramallah. Students from a musical school gave an impromptu concert just before the metal-barred walkways that bring you to passport control. (Spotted -- Sandy Tolan, author of The Lemon Tree, a book I did not care for, sorry Sandy!) While there, a young boy, maybe 8 or 9, whom I've seen before, tried to sell me a bottle of water for 5 NIS. I declined, but he persisted, and when I was about to give in, another young boy informed me that the water should only be 2 NIS, not 5, which I assumed anyways.

So I handed the boy 2NIS and told him I didn't want any water. "Bideesh," I said, as he profferred up the bottle, "I don't want it." So what does he do? He sticks my two shekl back in my front pocket and walks away. He'd rather overcharge me by 3 than accept 2 outright. I'm having trouble explaining the logic of his morality, does anyone have an idea?

Blah blah blah blah blog

If you've managed to find your way to this site without being my FB friend or on my gchat, then you haven't found out that I wrote a blog post for techchange.org. It's my biggest publication to date (haha so pathetic!) so I'm proud of it. Ch-ch-ch-check it out!

Dead Sea

At a lovely bbq on the Dead Sea last weekend. The sun sets to the East (obviously) and from Palestine you're facing the Dead Sea to the West, so no pretty picturesque sunsets like from the Jordanian side. But the water still was a perfect reflection of an orange sky. So lovely.

Again!

I was walking down the street when I felt a little face at my hand. She followed me down the street again until I got to a busy part, where she fell back.

She Came Back!

I know I said I'd keep her if she found me again, and she must be a reader of my blog, because when I walked out of my house last night I was startled by a little face popping up outside of the gate. My dog was waiting for me! I wish she'd appeared 6 months ago, I would have had to keep her then, and then she'd move with me to New York.

Shabab Lite

Three boys dressed in perfectly matching outfits: shiny silver jeans, striped shirts, white sneakers, gelled hair. Between the ages of 11 and 12.5. Pretty amusing!

Dabkeh

Two things my one-time dabkeh lesson taught me:

1) Dabkeh is on a 6 count, which is why it was so freaking hard for me to figure it out when I first got here. (Most Western dance is done on the 8 count.)

2) Those beautiful embroidered dresses that the women wear on special occasions (older generation and rural women wear them more regularly) are unbelievably hot! I was absolutely sweltering in it and had to pull it off mid-class.

Saudade, Schadenfreude, Vacilando

There are some words in other languages that have a very specific meaning, often related to a particular feeling in a particular situation. I find that English, despite its magnificent breadth and willingness to borrow from other tongues, lacks this. I need a word to describe something: when you wake up in a new country and everything--every sight, sound, scent and sensation-- feels unfamiliar in such a wonderful way. Being removed from your familiar elements makes you hypersensitive, and just savoring everything around you is the most thrilling thing in the world.

I feel like the Germans must have a word for this, but that it sounds better in Portuguese.

Expats: The best of the best

I secretly discovered today that one of the friends I've made in Palestine is not only sweet, humble, and unbelievably laid-back, she is also phenomenally, awe-inspiringly intelligent. I've met phenomenally smart people before, I've met humble and laid back people before, but it's a rare gem that is both.

I got nothing

Some days, you can't find something to like.

Grapevine

I threaded the grapevine through the lattice over the entrance to our house this weekend. I have visions of coming home and walking through the cool air and dappled light. My grapevine will need to grow fairly rapidly over the next few weeks to arch over the walkway...

Summa Summa Summa Time!

The coming of summer seems to be most directly marked by the advent of BBQ season: one last weekend, two this weekend, and one already booked for next weekend. Bikinis, bacon and beer, oh my.

Led A Stray

Walking home this evening, a dog I'd befriended the other day found me again on the street. She followed me all the way home, jumping and nipping and happy to see me. It hurt my heart to leave her out of the yard; if she finds me a third time I'm keeping her.

Love letter to Palestine

I am in denial about the fact that I am leaving Ramallah. (Although the fact that I am aware of my denial kind of negates the denial altogether, right?) It’s like a tender wound that I circle but never directly prod—I just don’t let my mind go there. For a little while I tortured myself by counting the weeks and days until I leave, but that made for a bad mental state. I’ve found it’s best to keep my focus off of it, and if my thoughts tend to wander that way, I quickly redirect them.

I’ll allow myself this though: in honor of my deep love for Palestine and the life I have here, I’m going to post one thing each day, a snapshot of my lovely life here. It will be my long goodbye, my how-do-I-love-you-let-me-count-the-ways to Palestine. I began with the one below (“Blackberries”) and I’ll continue until I leave.

Blackberries

I walked through a shower of blackberries today as truant boys shook them out of the trees.