Daily Life

I cannot believe our time here is almost over. I am glad I have so many exciting things happening afterwards to beckon me forwards. Otherwise, I would be very tempted to lengthen my stay.

During the day, my work is surprisingly similar to what I did in PA. I write. I develop training material. I discuss evaluation. I love it! 

Then I walk outside and see Bethlehem. A climbing city of textured white stones and reaching church and mosque tops. 

I love settling into a place for a while. Letting the walk home become familiar. Mindlessly navigating the route to the office, turning at the smell of fresh bread, and then again at the sound of traffic. 

The church bells will ring out if you're late, but rather than chiming a hastened pace, they seem to elicit a moment of prayer as you pause in their reverberating echoes. The call to prayer does the same. 

The morning sun seems the hottest. It pours into our bedroom, through golden curtains. Our morning walk is up hill. We arrive dripping with sweat, salt stinging our eyes as we try to match the gracious greetings of those around us. 

The walk home is much cooler. The evening sun seems more resigned. Nearly the entire walk is down hill. Still, we arrive covered in sweat. It might have something to do with the five flights of stairs to our apartment. Can't beat the view, though. 

Keith and I tend to eat out once a day - either lunch or dinner. Normally we eat falafel, mashed chickpeas molded into balls and fried, or shawarma, chicken of beef grilled on a spit. For breakfast and our second meal, we eat pita, hummus, and fruit.  

Shawarma

Chocolate Shawarma

It is Ramadan, a month of fasting for Muslims. There is a different rhythm to the day. More energy at night. We can hear children playing in the streets as we fall asleep.

Ramadan size shawarma - just enough for the Christians and tourists

 

At night, Keith and I sit on the porch and watch the colors of the sky and land reflect as if on water. The middle turns a dusty rose. We close our eyes and let the last of the sun's warm air wash over us, with the sounds and smells and memories of the day.