Nablus, third oldest city...?

What is the oldest permanently inhabited city?  Damascus is one claim, though the Chinese or Japanese or other countries in Asia may claim another.  Those standing with Damascus go with Aleppo as the second and Nablus as the third.  That was Ahmad's claim as we wandered through Nablus old city, Thursday, and I have no reason to doubt him.  He may well be right.

Nablus sweets shop with kanafeh (3rd large tray)

Early Thursday afternoon, we left Adahya, where Khitam lives, just outside East Jerusalem, and headed north to Nablus.  Our ultimate destination was Jenin, further north, but we wanted to stop in Nablus to visit Project Hope and to eat Kanafeh, or Kanafeh bit jibneh.  The latter is what I remember the Lebanese calling it, decades before I knew it was a Nablus specialty.  If someone here knows you're going to Nablus, they are likely to say, "Be sure to eat some kanafeh!"  Kanafeh, the most famous of many Nabulsi sweets, originated in the 15th century and by the late 16th century it was exported throughout the Ottoman Empire.

I remember Nablus as a medium size, sleepy town, perhaps because one of the last times I was there, it was mid-morning and the shops were just opening.  Now it is a large bustling city.  It is also the home of Project Hope, a Palestinian non-profit that works to provide activities, education and entertainment for the youth and families of the city and its surroundings.

Nablus' kanafeh and its old city were the secondary reasons I wanted to stop there.  Project Hope was the first because I had not heard of it until our granddaughter, Leila, volunteered there for two weeks last summer.  Most of Hope's volunteers are in the twenties or thirties; Leila was seventeen.  During her two weeks there, she taught a conversational English class at the university where all her students were older and also worked with younger children.

Hakim

AbdulHakim Sabbah, who goes by "Hakim," is the Director of Project Hope.  He founded it several years ago as a Palestinian non-profit and he is a no-nonsense leader.  In order to develop Project Hope and to pull off Nablus' first arts and culture festival two years ago, he has had to be.  He is witty, salmon the surface and a hard worker.  That, at least, is my impression from sitting with him and talking for less than an hour.  He is also quick to seize an opportunity.  When I mentioned storytelling and jokingly said maybe I could get to the festival next year, he said: "Why don't you tell stories there!"  I said I'd see if I could make it to the next festival and he immediately replied: "No, I mean next Friday.  This year!  We have Nablus' sole surviving traditional storyteller,  Friday at 5:00.  Join him."  "I'd have to tell in English."  "I'll translate for you.  So, you'll do it?"  I wasn't sure it was a question and agreed.

spices & veggies & beans in the souk

Au natural herb!

For the next two hours, Ahmad, a young university graduate who studied Arabic literature and works for Project Hope, led us through the city's souks, a few kilometers of covered narrow walkways between shops of all kinds, displaying everything from plastic and metal kitchenware from China to traditional Arab robes and kaffiyehs; from cheese shops - Nablus is famous for a white-brine cheese called jibneh Nabulsi, which not surprisingly means, Nablus cheese - to butchers with recently skinned animals hanging in front, to spice shops whose scents make you want to stay and breathe in as many scents as you can.

Ahmad in the souk with a visitor

seller of natural sweets and herbs

After a dinner of skewered chicken with tomatoes, onions and a side of fried potatoes, preceded by a mezze of hummus, baba ghanoush, pickles, jibneh Nabulsi and other local dishes, we returned to the guest house where we were spending the night, at least we thought we were.  There we sat up for a couple of hours, most of it talking with the man who managed the guest house: he owned the business but rented the building. He was smoking a narghile (hookah) and he talked almost non-stop about work he organized and volunteer work he did in the refugee camp he'd been born in.  He wanted kids to have options, to discover themselves through sports, arts, crafts, studies, so he has helped start programs in the camp.  To run these programs, he needs volunteers, lots of them.  Volunteers are even needed in the schools where he thinks the leadership and teaching are lacking.  He has little money to work with, though he has requested and received money to build facilities for the programs.  He didn't sound like he was giving up.

Eventually, we "turned in," as my father would say.  There were a few surprises ahead.