June 9, 2003 — Mudeif Productions

As 12th graders from the Jenin district gathered at the Latin school for the first day of their comprehensive tawjihi exams, Elizabeth joined a handful of teachers and two busloads of students for a trip to Beidan. At Beidan, natural springs support agriculture and recreation. There are at least three swimming complexes here, with modern pools which are filled and drained twice each day (without chlorine). The setting was beautiful, freshwater swimming tucked in arid, pine-treed mountains. The drained water continues downstream, a bit later than it would have otherwise.

The trip was conceived of as a way to thank and encourage the kids who helped with school projects all year, and they were definitely excited. From first to eleventh grade, the kids came ready for fun, with packed lunches, swimsuits, towels, and floaty pool toys. Most kids older than second or third grade didn't have swimsuits per say, but rather brought shorts and T-shirts, which is what Elizabeth wore for a brief dip.

For the most part, "swimming" is a misnomer; the pools are not filled deeper than perhaps five feet, and most kids are kept (by a lifeguard) in much shallower waters, where the activity is essentially standing or sitting in the cool waves and splashing each other. Maybe five or six of the oldest boys managed flying dives and dog paddling across the "deep" end, but it was clear that learning to swim is not something kids here have much opportunity for. At any rate, after a few minutes in the pool, Elizabeth was mobbed by kids wanting swimming lessons.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing, eating, singing, and chatting. We finally packed up, most of us browner (or in some cases redder) than when we arrived, and returned to Zababdeh around five in the afternoon.

Marthame made his way to Ibillin for the final exam. The van was able to enter again (two weeks in a row!) and pick Marthame up. At the checkpoint, the soldier gave back Marthame's passport, saying, "I know you." He then asked, "Where are you going?"

"Nazareth."

"You're coming back today?"

"No . Tomorrow."

"OK." He seemed to think for a minute, as though that may not be possible. "What's your name?"

"Marthame."

*Elizabeth joins some of the teachers in the shade.*

"OK. Have a nice day." We'll see what happens tomorrow.

Marthame made it to Nazareth and his (last!) weekly lunch with Fr. Hatem and family. In the evening, Marthame got to see the best and worst of Eastern and Western cultures. Even after all the flak about the midterm, the students were still trying to wrangle their way out of the final. Everything's negotiable here - a bit too much, in fact! Marthame retired to the guesthouse, having dinner on the porch with a Brit volunteering with Fr. Chacour for a few weeks. But by 9:00, all of the guests were tucked away in their rooms - the excessive privacy drive of the West. Ah, we have found our way to the uncomfortable middle of the cross-cultural experience!