When I arrived last August, my intention was to be useful and effective. I played a comparison game with a past-version myself during the first visa; I tried to out-compete the slightly younger Boys & Girls Club Intern iteration of my self, as the quarter-century-old version at Wi’am. As the Autumn progressed I had less… Continue reading Thoughts from Home
I was walking up the street with my new colleague from Sweden (Dawwid) and I noticed all the little ones from the nearby girls’ elementary school scampering down the hill in their matching dresses. It bubbled to mind how I miss writing about the intimate details of peoples’ lives in Palestine. Last fall at this… Continue reading Torn to Pieces
Beverages matter. My co-workers once called me down to the foyer and offered me tea brewed with maleesa (an herb). I added sugar from a small metal bowl, using a little spoon, to my tiny glass cup with no handle. Just then, Saliba came from his office. I immediately rose and went to the kitchen,… Continue reading Between Tea & Coffee
My first encounter with the 'Cenation' phenomena was at the Steil Boys & Girls Club in Grand Rapids, Michigan. At that time I was their half-competent volunteer coordinator, loitering in the games-room. One of the other staff introduced me as “Mr. John” and some junior high geniuses quipped “John Cena?” A nine-year-old’s war cry rang… Continue reading Playing John Cena: Taybeh & Ramallah
“What am I doing here?”: A question often framed in the most existential terms, as asking about the origin and purpose of one’s life. In my case, I posed it to myself when I laid down to sleep on a cane bench in rural Mindanao, Philippines. Why is the Mission Intern in Palestine eating fish… Continue reading What am I doing, again?