Sunday evening, 10 November, Addahya
   Back at Khitam's house on the "other side" of the wall and on the edge of Jerusalem, it's been another sunny day with weather like the best of Maine's in September.  We drove here this afternoon from Nahef, where we spent the weekend.  On the way back, we stopped at the Israeli village of Ahihud which was once the Palestinian village, al Birweh, where Khitam's family lived before the 1948 war when they had to flee.  We walked around the area where her family's house stood, found the remains of the mill where the olives were ground by a large stone (al ma'sara) to make olive oil, and then found one standing building, the boy's school, which her eldest brother attended along with the great Palestinian poet, Mahmoud Darwish.  Khitam called her sister Naseba who explained the location of the olive press and the school as if she had been there a few days ago.

One of two classrooms at the school in al Birweh

The old boys school in al Birweh

   But now, back to Alrowwad, where I spent two more days, Wednesday and Thursday, as did my friend Cotton.  Wednesday, Alrowwad is usually closed, so Abed had most of the day off.  We drove to the village of Beit Umar, where we met Jamal Maqbal and his wife and little boy.  Cotton was delivering a contribution to help Jamal pay for his heat this winter.  He had met Jamal through friends who had been involved in West Bank issues before he was.  Jamal's family lost their land in Palestine in the 1948 war; he has been in Israeli prison, and now the Israeli government has issued a demolition order for his house, the house he built.  He has taken it to court and received a delay.  He doesn't know what will happen if anything.
   There was tea, sweets, coffee, more sweets that we had to decline.  Jamal's wife is covered, meaning her hair is covered with a scarf and she wears a long dress to cover her body.  She speaks good English.  She studied computer science in college but as the mother of five children is occupied at home, and there's no guarantee she could find a job if she sought one.  She's a bright cheerful woman, busy at home but welcoming to friends and strangers with that Palestinian hospitality I continue to encounter.  While we talked, their two older boys came home from school.  The eldest, a senior, was in Maine last summer in Seeds of Peace Camp.  I asked how he liked it.
   "I loved it, loved being somewhere else, seeing new places, meeting new people.  When we had talks between Israelis and Palestinians, there were rules, that you had to respect the other people, no matter how much you disagreed with them.  It didn't really work.  People would get upset, yell and in the end, go back to their side.  But I liked meeting people from Afghanistan, Pakistan and Egypt, people who were dealing with the same problems we deal with here.  I had new experiences, saw new places, made new friends from other countries.  It was great."
   Abdelfattah does not work with Israelis.  He believes that Israelis who want to help make peace between the two sides should work with Israelis, their own people, to convince them.  There is a skewed view of negotiations between the two sides, discussions of the two sides, compromise between the two sides.  "Skewed" because one side is the occupier and has the power, the other side is occupied and has no power.  Abed is working to empower Palestinian youth and women so they can make good choices for their lives and work as he does to further Palestinian self-respect and rights.

   On our way back to Alrowwad, we stopped in Bethlehem at a little restaurant that serves mezza and chicken, that's it.  Abed said it's the best chicken in Bethlehem.  Now, chicken roasted outside over an open fire is common, but not this chicken.  It was succulent and the mezza was bountiful: hummus, baba ghanoush, a delicious garlic dip, two salads and more.  My hands were greasy, my stomach was full and before Cotton or I could ask for a bill, Abed had paid for the meal.  You have to be quick over here if you're going to share expenses with your host.
   Back to Alrowwad to teach a workshop and talk to some of the staff while Abed had a lively board meeting.  After that, we met Mazin Qumsiyeh, a biologist who taught in the States for many years and then decided it was time to return to Palestine, so he and his wife are back and he writes a regular blog on Palestine - Israeli issues and politics.  He is a small wiry man who talks rapid fire.  He is enthusiastic, outspoken and very interesting.  We went out for a snack before returning to Abed's and didn't have much time to spend with Mazin, but I had the feeling that if we had had time, we would have stayed there for at least another hour talking about Palestine.

   One more day teaching at Alrowwad, then we said good-bye to Abed and his family.  Nahel and the kids left in the morning for school in Jerusalem and Abed was off to France for conferences and then Amman before returning home later this month.  We drove into Jerusalem, had pizza and beer, then dropped Cotton at his hotel and came back to Addahya for the night.