August 24, 2002

It was wonderful to walk through town today - smiling faces, warm handshakes, and kisses greeted us. It really is home in many ways. And this was just on our way to school for the last teacher planning day. We tried to catch up on everyone's news - one marriage, a few babies, neighbor's house blown up, round-the-clock curfews, military detentions (including one of Marthame's former religion students) and arrests - you know, the usual summer news.

Fr. Aktham greets the teachers as we prepare for a new school year.

There are also two new teachers in our midst. We gathered close to noon so that Father Aktham could talk to us. After welcoming everyone, he talked about the challenges that lay before us collectively this year. Last year was hard. Very hard. And very unpredictable. As far as anyone can plan for this year, we can anticipate that it'll be more difficult - possible closures, absences, etc. - there was a general nod of resignation and dedication to the task ahead. He then mentioned the two of us in particular and asked us to say a few words to the teachers about our summer.

Before we could begin, one of the teacher's asked: what do Americans think about the situation here? (The number one question we get from folks after our return) This gave us the opportunity to talk about exactly what we had been up to over the past two months. We brought the two interviews we had done (one in Lubbock, one in Atlanta), the huge butcher-paper Prayer-Gram children in Park Ridge, Illinois, had created for us (with encouraging messages and pictures added by other churches we visited), and pictures from our travels. As we explained, Americans come with a variety of assumptions (or none at all) to the situation here. Part of our job is to give Westerners a fuller picture of life here through our lives and experiences. Particularly, when it comes to the School, a place where Christians and Muslims work and learn together is particularly prophetic (and hopeful) to a Western audience.

Later on, one of the teachers from Tubas approached Elizabeth. "You know," she said, "I used to think that all Americans hated us. Thank you for showing us that not all Americans think the same." What's amazing is to realize that there are probably others who think and feel the same, especially when we've known nothing but unconditional welcome here. Humbling to say the least.

In the evening, we went up to the Arab-American University of Jenin to reconnect with a friend and hear news from there. As we drove back down to Zababdeh, we noticed something - the absence of something - no lights at the Israeli training camp on the outskirts of town. How odd...Have they finally left, after it's been discussed for five years?