"One's past is what one is."
- Oscar Wilde

I think this is true. But I think that two people could have similar pasts and choose to do different things with those realities. But both would be equally shaped by where they came from.

I remember being struck by the lack of water

"CPTnet
1 August 2008
AT-TUWANI: Drought in South Hebron Hills worsened by Israeli occupation



At-Tuwani and neighboring villages are in the worst drought-affected area of the Occupied Palestinian Territories (OPT). Only 13% of the expected rainfall came in the Hebron area in the winter of 2007-08. Two weeks ago, At-Tuwani villagers told Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) that only around one week's supply of water was left in the village's wells and cisterns.


Israeli military road blocks restrict access to the nearest Palestinian Water Authority (PWA) filling point, but even without these restrictions, the capacity of the PWA is insufficient to meet local needs. The Oslo II Peace Agreement of 1995 called for "the equitable utilization of joint water resources,": which the Israeli government never carried out. Israeli human rights group, B'Tselem reports that the daily per capita consumption of water of Palestinians in the West Bank is 66 liters, whereas the average daily water consumption in Israeli cities is 235 liters.


Some families in At-Tuwani have purchased water, but the Israeli military roadblocks mean that water tankers have to take longer routes, thus raising the price. NGOs who recently brought water to the area told CPT that it cost 35-40 NIS per m3 (1m3 = 1000 liters), three to six times higher than Israeli households pay. In addition, the villagers must provide water for their flocks , and a sheep requires a minimum of 5-7 liters of water per day.


The low winter rainfall adversely affected the growth of the natural vegetation, and the planted crops, like barley and wheat, produced a very low harvest. The Palestinians, therefore, have had to buy additional fodder for their animals. In the past 12 months fodder prices have tripled, while the market price for a sheep has nearly halved. The Occupation has also interfered with shepherds' ability to graze their animals. Since it began in 1967, 21 percent of West Bank grazing land has been declared Israeli military zones and another 8 percent nature reserves. Israeli settlers often attack shepherds and their flocks in the fields, which makes feeding their flocks even more difficult for families.

Palestinians, with support from a Spanish NGO, are building a new cistern in At-Tuwani to supply water to villages in the area in future years. The Israeli military issued a 'stop work order' (the first step in the demolition process) for it on 26 June, 2008. Representatives from the village met with the Israeli military authorities last week requesting that this order be rescinded. They have told CPT that they will appeal to the Israeli High Court if necessary.


CPT continues to accompany Palestinian herders as they graze on their traditional lands and resist Israeli army and settler harassment. Local and international NGOs are working to meet the humanitarian needs in the area by supplying water and fodder.



Figures in this release are taken from





"

When you deport nonviolent people, all you are left with is the violent ones

"CPTnet
2 August 2008
AT-TUWANI: CPTer faces possible deportation

The Israeli authorities detained Kristin Anderson, a U.S. citizen working with Christian Peacemaker Teams in the South Hebron Hills, today during a non-violent action in At-Tuwani. Israeli soldiers took Anderson's bag and passport, and police detained her when she stayed behind to retrieve them; they then took her to the Kiryat Arba police station. The Israeli authorities may move her to the Russian Compound in Jerusalem for a trial and possible deportation.

The public witness was a response to four attacks Israeli settlers perpetrated against Palestinian children in the last week as they walked to or from summer camp in At-Tuwani. About 300 Palestinian adults and children as well as Israelis and internationals marched from At-Tuwani to Tuba to protest the continuing violence and the expansion of the settlement outpost Havat Ma'on."

something good to lose

Sunshine On My Shoulders

Again, ignore the video, but enjoy the song.

I'm not sure what it is about this song, but it resonates with my feelings around losing friends. Not the forever death kind of losing, but the inevitable people move away and friendships change, kind of losing.

As well as a too much death, I've also had a couple good friends move away in the last month, and it makes me sad. But this song, I think it touches me because it celebrates that there is something good to lose. (As we could never really lose anything if we never had anything worth keeping.)

isn't he clever?

http://www.newstatesman.com/blogs/the-faith-column/2008/07/german-mennonite-society

"...Not all young students wanting to change the world become the willing pawns of demagogues or monied interests. Some avoid the mainstream, forge ahead in unexpected directions and invent Microsoft. Or in our case, the Mennonites. But what was it that these lads of the early 16th century invented? The students had a radical idea about how to implement Martin Luther’s big religious experiment..."

a nice story, even if you aren't ethnically Menno

http://blog.beliefnet.com/godspolitics/2008/07/when-mennonites-made-a-mosque.html

And yes, I think I can safely say that there are definitely some Mennonites who would be happy to offer prayer space to a Muslim community on any given Friday.

ever since orientation...

I've had a special soft spot for this hymn, please ignore the random Africa montage (unless you really like animals):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b1bSlS6OWTs

Tonight I've been listening to it over and over.

the people we meet...

http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=nhlyZl6k2Cs

This video just made me think because I know fixing things is rarely as straight forward as this, and lots of the time you're better of leaving things be. And most of the time broken things are unfixable, and all you can do is learn to live with the brokenness. But I guess I like the video because it reminds me that there are other folk out there who want to help fix things too, in whatever fashion they have the gifts for.

placenta

"Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark..."

- from Death Cab for Cutie's "I will follow you into the dark"

"Tuesday night at the bible study
We lift our hands and pray over your body
But nothing ever happens...

...On the floor at the great divide
With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied
I am crying in the bathroom

In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low
And the cardinal hits the window

In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing

Oh the glory that the lord has made
And the complications when I see his face
In the morning in the window..."

- from Sufjan Steven's "Casimir Pulaski Day"

Yesterday was the viewing for Esther, the young woman from my church who recently passed away from cancer. They do it quite differently here, which was disconcerting, but I was glad I went, as it allowed me to try and express an iota of my sympathy for what her mother and brother are having to carry right now.

I've noticed lately, since Esther died, that I'm less inclined to have confidence in intercessory prayer. It made me realize that before now I rarely prayed for specific outcomes, but in terms of Esther's healing, we were all quite clear what outcome we wanted. Faith is a habit it is hard to get out of though, and I continue to hope (and pray) that God will carry her family in the midst of their loss.

In the time right after Esther's death I read the new CPT book, "118 days." The book manages to do many things, teaching about the situations of conflict that CPT works in, as well as highlighting the "explosion of goodness" that came about as a result of the crisis. Over a year later, it creates some meaning and order out of the chaos of fear and loss that the crisis inspired for folks intimately affected, as well as those distantly touched, like yours truly.

Some how the book comforted me after Esther's passing, but that comfort evaporated yesterday when I was confronted with how very dead she is now, and how much her family are hurting.

Today a few of us went down to Bristol for the funeral of my housemate's mother. She was 94, and the funeral was a lovely, simple celebration of her life. It was a privilege to be there. And it comforted me.

Someone who is dead no longer looks like themselves. And in the moment of seeing Esther's body yesterday, I was overwhelmed with a fear that she was utterly gone. That nothing was left except her physical body that will now decay. Since seeing her though, I've seen many living people. And I've been conversely overwhelmed by how alive they are. By the magic of individual personality and life that each person brims with.

And I don't know what comes next, if anything, but I have renewed hope that there is something eternal that makes its escape at death. The age-old metaphor of the baby leaving behind the placenta and the womb, or the butterfly leaving the cocoon. Maybe it's just a way of keeping myself happy, but I'll keep hoping.

Happiness

The other day a colleague who hadn't seen me for a while asked me if I was in love. She thought I looked especially happy. It was a surprising question, and given that I'd just shared a sermon on love the Sunday before (1 John 4, what a chapter!), it made me particularly thoughtful.

A few months ago in a moment of cranky cynicism, I'd asked my housemates, "why is our culture so obsessed with love?" And one of them, who has seen a little more of life than I have, replied, "because it feels good!" I think she hit the nail on the head. My colleague's question though made me need to stop and think again about what makes me feel good.

I guess I'd pretty much accepted the idea in our culture (or perhaps the subculture of young women?) that nothing feels as good as romantic love, and if you don't have it, you're missing out. So it was pretty sweet to discover that actually, happiness is made up of a whole mix of things, of which romantic love can play a part, but it isn't necessarily the essential ingredient.

At the moment of my colleague's question, when I broke down my previously unexamined excellent mood, it was influenced first by the simple presence of summer. Secondly by recent time with family, which was giving me more optimism than I'd had in a while about us as a transformed unit. Thirdly by recent reconnecting with friends, after I returned from a mad amount of travel (after two years, I feel like there's something to come back to in my adopted city.) And fourthly by a sense that I have my work life in hand (a rather novel feeling, given the nature of my position.)

I think sometimes too, rather than depression, there is euphoria in being alive and healthy, when you have recently seen some of the alternative. As well as my grandmother passing away, two other important people in my life are ill, and a young woman in my church is in the hospital with cancer. It's grotesque, the long and slow suffering God is allowing her and her family to go through. But being aware of what they are struggling with makes me feel the sun more strongly and see the smiles of other people more clearly.

I watched a movie once, a few years ago, called The Afterlife (at least, I think that's what it was called?) In the movie people when they die can pick one moment from their lives to relive for all eternity. The movie was about the people who were making that decision, and the other people who helped guide them through it. In a way, helping them find the moment of most perfect happiness, which now no longer has to be transient, but can last forever.

Do you have any idea what your moment would be? I'm not sure for myself, because in terms of people, there have been too many important ones, and they've never all been in the same place at the same time. But in terms of the simplest kind of serenity, there is nothing quite like teatime in our garden in the summer.

"Hommage En Grains" par Mes Aïeux

For le St Jean this is the second year running that we've had a poutine evening. This year one of my housemates is Quebecoise, and she actually had the real deal St-Hubert gravy, though we had to fake it with the cheese. She tried to sing the song below for us:

"Quand vient l'heure du last-call
Et que s'allument les néons
Exposant nos teints pâles
Éteignant nos ambitions

Quand aller se coucher
N'est pas une solution
Nos cerveaux embrouillés
N'envisagent qu'une option

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Font un excellent ménage
Passé trois heures et demie
C'est de la grande gastronomie

La serveuse est guillerette
Malgré l'heure incongrue
Et sous une tonn' de spray net
Elle nous tend son menu

Et nos yeux qui salivent
Lisent les définitions
Des versions alternatives:
"Italienne, Galvaude ou Duleton"

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Sont un heureux mariage
Oui, je l'avoue, c'est un peu gras
Mais ça re-patch l'estomac

Patates, patates

Instrumental :

Je ne briserai jamais l'objet de mon extase
L'équilibre parfait des trois éléments de base
Moi, c'est sur la classique, que je fixe mon choix
J'fais pas partie des excentriques qui rajoutent des petits pois

Dans l'attente insoutenable du suprême gueuleton
Tous autour de la table posent l'ultime question:
"De quel coin de la terre vient ce délice de maestro?
Les opinions diffèrent: Drummondville ou Victo"
(Warwick)

Puis, le festin arrive, avec sa fourchette en plastique
Enfin sous la gencive, le fromage fait couic-couic
Et si la décence invite à déguster lentement son bol
Faut quand même, faire ça vite, avant qu'les frites viennent molles

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Forment un puissant alliage
C'est comme manger une livre de beurre
Mais Montignac nous fait pas peur

Ah! Quelle joie de savoir
Que partout au Québec
À la même heure, chaque soir
L'expérience se répète

Des épaves imbibées
Noient l'alcool dans l'gravy
Et le ventre ballonné
En rotant vont rêver…
(Rêver de… )

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
C'est engraissant, quel dommage!

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Une part de notre héritage

Patates, sauce brune et fromage
Nous te rendons cet hommage…
En grains !"