January 14, 2001

Today was the third day (the traditional Arab day for visitation) after the death of fourth grader Annas. We returned to Rummani with other teachers to sit with and show support for the family. We were suprised to see that many roads have been opened up again, and the bulldozed dirt that has blocked side roads is slowly being removed. We have heard that the recent incident near Zababdeh where the IDF shot at the Bishop of Nazareth was such an embarrassment that they've eased up on things around us - maybe that explains why things have been quiet at night (thank God).

In Rummani, all of the men sat were silent observers as Annas' father and Abuna Louis exchanged words of comfort. The father expressed an interest in helping to have a doctor on-call in Zababdeh around the clock in case something like this should happen again - the grace of a grieving parent. We also drank bitter, bitter coffee - nothing sweet at the time of death. The women gathered together, and each was given a date. Again, not to eat, but seemingly as a hopeful symbol of sweetness to come. Each was given a plate of food to eat, as at a wedding, but to be eating quickly with no few exchanged - again a reminder of the need for sustenance to the body, but for the moment there is little joy.

Some flowers as a reminder of signs of life, even in spite of it all.

We then gathered in the home of one of the teachers who was Annas' aunt for more visitation (her house, and all of Rummani, sits within sight of the Israeli checkpoint on the way to Megiddo, where we had had such surreal experiences with our French consular vehicle two months ago). Few words were exchanged except for the formal greeting, "Allah yerhamo" - God have mercy on him. We're not sure how much was tradition and how much was no one really knowing what to say. A little bit of both, most likely.