It’s a Small World

And then we were back. Back to the land of almost eternal sunshine, insane traffic and endless security checks. Back to breathtaking hikes, cats, and pita bread oozing goodness all over your fingers, sweater and lap.

The bustle of the airport felt like home and I breathed the cigarette smoke laden air with deep contentment. It was so good to be back. So. Very. Good.

Unfortunately I had packed not one but two dysfunctional phone chargers, so our phones were down to single digits on the batteries. The Israel SIM cards I had lovingly packed “in a safe place” were nowhere to be found, and we had to somehow meet up with 6 fellow travelers. A local SIM store soon had me up and charging and supplied me with 2 new SIM cards. Of course I found the other ones right after, but that’s insignificant.

Eventually we were all together, eight strangers who were about to spend 2 weeks together. Marshall, Steph, Dalen, Andrew, Karen, Kari, Heath and I. The thing about meeting at the airport after a long flight is that you all truly look your worst. Nasty hair, bags under the eyes, crumpled clothes and on one dress, a big pink spot:). You feel your worst too.

We all climbed into our Toyota Proace, a large 9 passenger van that would be our combined sleeper car, dining car, changing room, storage zone and transportation the next 2 weeks. It was not just an average van. It was a well used van. The only thing the rental car company charged us extra for was the stain on a seat. Spilled ice coffee I believe? They didn’t notice the places we fixed with a rubber hammer and zip ties, or know that the spare tire now had a patch. But those are stories for later.

Our home was in Abu Dis, a hectic West Bank town that used to be East Jerusalem before the wall was erected. We rented an AirBnB from a sweet lady named Fadwa. It’s a typical Palestinian home, four stories high with an apartment on each story. They start with one story, and then as they get sons they build up. One floor per son. Well, mom and dad were both dead and the sons all moved to Ramallah, so that left the 3 sisters with a lot of space. We happily filled it. Our floor had 5 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and a skinny kitchen/dining area. So skinny that when you are at the table nobody can get around you. We took turns sitting at different places. If you sat on the North side you had to continually hand people cups, plates and silverware. The East people had to get stuff out of the fridge, the West people had access to the coffee maker, paper towel and sink, and the South people just asked for stuff, but were right next to the toilet. The West’s also had to do dishes more than the East’s, but they often had to pack the lunch. Like I said, we rotated to be fair.

The yard is full of little beds and pots of blooming flowers and herbs. The lemons trees were loaded and were also blooming, so that was spectacular! There are several sitting areas, two pet turtles that wake up at 10am and lots of cats. A tall wall surrounds the yard so to really look out you need to run up to the rooftop. Incidentally the rooftop is also where the laundry is located, so you have to work a bit to get your wash done. The views up there stretch for miles, past the other rooftops with their metal wash lines, water tanks and solar heaters, to the minarets of the city’s mosque’s and finally on to the distant mountains covered with houses, rock terraces, a few trees and sheep. Sound is muted, the honking horns more distant, and the prayer call that rings out 5 times a day is clearer, less corrupted by vendor’s shouts and noisy kids.

What bliss it was to crawl into my bed in room 1, snuggle under the red mink blanket and fall asleep across the ocean from my home. How lucky were we, eight strangers, to embark on this adventure together? As it turned out, very lucky.