(Mosque in Zababdeh.)
(Peter talking with the delivery man as twins listen in.)
We began early in the morning at one of the local
markets in Zababdeh. Here we put
together our lunch for later in the day – pita bread, cucumbers, tomatoes,
tuna, cheese, a sweet cake or two, and Nadal’s necessary addition of pickled
cucumbers. We all thought they
were unnecessary extra baggage, but then later, when it was time for
lunch – pretty good!
We are here to walk the land and meet the
people. We’ve done much of the
former during the northern leg of this hike, but not so much of the ladder. We haven’t met the people. This will change as we hike through the
West Bank.
We meet a shepherd,
a friend of Nadal’s, and talk with him about sheep and goats.
(Don't know what the t-shirt is about.)
He prefers goats – smarter, more
resilient and considerably more useful that sheep. We meet a family picking olives.
They invite us to tea, but Nadal politely refuses - three times. I question him on this. He tells me, “They barely have enough
food with them for their own lunch.
If we join them they will force us to eat what they have. The proper thing to do is gratefully
decline the invitation to tea.”
We meet three boys carrying a large, white bucket. They are gleaning from what is left on
the trees after the owners of the orchards pick their olives. I think of the story of Ruth. “These are among the poorer families in
the area,” Nadal explains. We
watch these wiry young boys climb the trees to pick the olives.
We walk by a woman in traditional
Palestinian garb – black dress with embroidered front – hanging clothes on the
line. Nadal explains how each
section of the region, indeed, in some cases, each village, have their own
design depending on the agriculture in the region. The design on her dress is of olive branches. She calls out to Nadal asking who we
were and why were we here. I’m not
quite sure all that he tells her, but I do recognize the word “friends,” so I
assume he tells her that we are friends of his and hopefully of his people as
well.
The land is stunning in it’s beauty, and so well
kept. One of the lies that we
often hear is that Palestinians don’t love the land, or don’t take good care of
the land. (They can't be trusted with water, for example, because they will just waste it.) What we see along this
hike repudiates that in every way.
The olive groves are groomed, the ground below the trees clean and raked. This is necessary for
several reasons, Nadal tells us: First to protect against fire that might
destroy the trees; then to make the harvest easier, as well as to allow water,
irrigated or rain, to best soak to the roots of the trees. The litter that we saw in the north is
nonexistent here.
These farms are
pristine. We'll see plenty of trash the closer we get to the larger cities, but not in the country.
We walk closely bunched together, listening to Nadal
as he describes trees and methods of farming and landmarks. It is clear to us that this man loves
this land.
Nadal is Muslim. We ask him question after question
after question about Islam. He
does not shy away from any, and he answers them thoughtfully and with a
tremendous grasp of history.
“Why are Muslims not allowed to drink alcohol?”
“Why do Muslim women cover their heads, and many
their faces?”
“Why the emphasis in Islam on jihad (Holy War)?” Nadal turns this one right back on us, by the way. “What religion,” he asks, “is responsible for more bloodshed than Christianity?” A spirited discussion followed. “But Christianity does not have jihad as one of its foundational tenets,” one of us counters. “Try telling that to the people of Iraq,” Nadal says. And we are reminded again of how connected Christianity is with the United States. In the minds of many Muslims, America is Christianity! Scary thought, and sobering for us as American Christians, I think – and say, by the way.
Nadal gives us the historical context as well as a
solidly moderate theological response to each question. The exchanges between him and us are
rich and from my viewpoint extremely encouraging. Nadal is an sensible, intelligent man. If he represents a faction of Muslims
then there is hope for improved relations between us. Hopefully, Nadal told his wife the same about us that
evening.
