Beer Buddies

I'll give you a heads up: this post may be controversial.  I've debated for some time about even writing it at all, but it's been on my mind and so I decided to spill it.  And by the way, these are just my own inconclusive thoughts, no theological implications intended.

So.....Last month, we attended a beer festival here in northern Michigan--an event for a myriad of microbreweries to team up and showcase their specialty brews for the brew-loving public.  My husband is a budding connoisseur of malted beverages, so it was natural for us to go (and good business contacts were made, might I add!).

I wasn't much into the beer tasting (there were other things that suited my tastes better), but the experience struck me in a different way, having never been to such a thing before.  What struck me the most, from the minute we got in line to be let through the gate, was how friendly and non-judgmental and rather community-minded everyone was.  Of course, at an event such as this where the object is to taste various alcoholic beverages, people are going to develop more animated personalities.  However, the phenomenon I'm talking about started at the very beginning, before anyone had had even a sip to drink. 

(This obviously is not a picture from our winter festival, but it shows the atmosphere inside the tent)

Everyone acted like everyone was their friend.  Strangers were merely best friends yet to be met.  Everyone smiled and greeted everyone upon passing by, not  unlike the first few freshman weeks on a college campus.  And standing by the open fire to warm my hands, I got to know several people and became deeply immersed in conversations about the Middle East, its troubles, possible remedies, and other politics (disclaimer: Owen is the political one in our family, but I do have my own ideas on some things).  I'm not one who's energized by socializing, and so I usually feel overwhelmed and lonely in large crowds; but on this night, even at times when surrounded by no one I knew, I felt befriended and belonging, and never alone. 

I was really quite shocked...because, in my experience, out in public people tend to keep to themselves (maybe this is my experience because it's how I tend to be?), and the rare occasions when you do meet friendly people, conversation usually stays pretty light and short.  In the instance above, though, three sentences in we were already knee-deep in Middle-East issues, and talking about things that matter in the world.  It was refreshing, and inspiring.

Not to sound dramatic, but the whole night I just felt valued, appreciated, understood, and free to be myself.  (I even danced!  Not well, but who cared?!)  Not because people were lavishing compliments on me or paying any special attention to me, but just because everyone was so warm and welcoming and non-judgmental to everyone.  It was like all worldly criticisms and character judgments got checked at the gate, and everyone was equal, and everyone appreciated that everyone was equal, and everyone appreciated each person for who they were.  It was like what I expect the Church should be like.  And yet, I found it at a beer festival.

Okay, I know it probably sounds really silly to be painting this glorified picture of a bunch of tipsies at a beer celebration.  But, my spirit was legitimately encouraged and instructed.  Even amongst (maybe) non-believing strangers (oops--now I'm being judgmental!), I encountered God in a special way. 

I don't know.  I feel like sometimes we as Christians get so concerned about living right--and making sure others live right--legalistically working out our own salvation, if you will--that we forget about Jesus' commands to love and forgive and not judge others, and other simple but basic truths.  May we, the Church--believers in our daily lives--have arms so open and hearts so forgiving, and may we find God in the most unexpected places. 

Fabric-ated

Over the past 6 months, I have developed a voracious appetite for Middle Eastern fabrics.  The ones I bought before are pretty, but nothing about them is terribly Middle Eastern.  However, to my great delight, a friend recently introduced me to an amazing little cluster of shops in the souk, and I feel satiated.  The shops are teensy-tiny, like standing room only for about 4-5 people, but they're packed with goodies.  Don't get me wrong--there are oodles more I would love to get my hands on, but for now, this will do.

Respect

I have noticed with curiosity while being here how people with seemingly very different values become friends and socialize together.  As an example: out and about, you will see women together, some of whom are wearing full burka and hijab, others in more "revealing" Western clothing (like a t-shirt with knee-length skirt) and hair down.  I always silently wondered how they happened to be of the same social group.

Not all of the fellows at ACOR are into archaeology...some of them are social researchers in various fields.  One of these fellows is doing research on Arab-American youth who are sent back to their Middle Eastern homelands for school or enculturation.  In talking with these young people, this fellow researcher told me, what is interesting is that they have experienced a different set of values in their Arab homelands than they have in America:  A general respect for all people is encouraged, regardless of how someone may be different from you.  This respect eliminates cliques and bridges wildly differing people.  Everyone is simply friends (or friendly) to everyone.  I have experienced this friendliness as well, but I was amazed that the teens she has interviewed have not experienced cliques in their schools, which are absolutely inescapable in the States.  There, everyone wants to seal themselves up in a bubble with the people who are just like them; I guess it's more comfortable to us to be surrounded by those who dress and talk and believe as we do.

Cliques are no fun.

But the down side to that kind of congregating and labeling behavior is that always, inevitably, there are many who don't fit neatly into the "bubbles of normalcy" that we create, and are left feeling unacceptable, shunned, outcast, with nowhere to belong...And those who do belong tend to become what their bubble dictates they should be; they are bound by their label rather than free to be themself.

My own natural tendency is to seal myself up in a comfortable bubble with those who are just like me.  It makes me feel secure in myself and in the world; it makes me feel stable and like all is well, and also like I myself am "normal."  But, having been forced out of that in various situations (including our time here in Jordan), I'm realizing what an amazing gift it is to befriend people who are wildly different from me, and so to see the world through a new set of eyes.  I have often felt myself on the outside of a clique, I have felt that un-belonging--so how amazing would it be if there were no boundaries on who you could and couldn't befriend?  Or should I say, would and wouldn't befriend?

unlikely friends

It would be so freeing, and so enriching!  Respect is a beautiful thing.

Highlights of Lebanon: Days 3-4

Our third day--our last full day--we attempted to travel south, but encountered a few setbacks along the way.  First order of business was being stopped by some bribe-seeking policemen...They claimed we had made and illegal turn, that it was caught on camera, and if we gave them $40 they would erase the picture.  They didn't speak any English, by the way, and we only understood via sign language and a few key words we know.  Owen dealt with them and did a great job feigning ignorance and being bull-headed, so that eventually they gave up in frustration and let us go.

Sidon: Crusader castle

So, we raced off to promptly get lost in the middle of a madhouse-Beirut--crazy roads, crazy drivers, lack of signs, and rush hour.  Somehow, flustered and annoyed at the lost time, we finally made it out of the city and onto the southward-leading road.  The easy sailing only lasted so long, though, as we soon were involved in a car accident.  We are praising the Lord we all came out unscathed! 

Sidon: Crusader castle

Did I mention this was all on Owen's birthday? 

Sidon: looking at the modern city from the top of the castle

The car rental company brought us out a new car, and we moved on with our day.  Next stop: Sidon. For some reason, the region south of Beirut is significantly more underdeveloped than northern Lebanon; I mentioned before how it's easy in Lebanon to forget you're in the Middle East, but on the south side there are some poignant reminders.  It is less European, less developed for tourism, more run down, and has more of the typical shack-like shops that seems standard in poorer areas of the Arab world.

delicious hummus

Sidon was at least still touristy and nice on the main street.  We found a classy Lebanese restaurant right on the Mediterranean Sea and enjoyed a chance to relax and celebrate Owen's birthday (however somberly).  Then we toured the Crusader castle that jutted out into the sea, and went in search of the other archaeological remains.  They were all closed.  The kids had both passed out in the car by then, anyway, so it wasn't a huge loss.  As we left Sidon, we passed what looked like a large tell right on the water, but--so sadly--it turned out to be the city's trash dump!  Right on the beautiful Mediterranean shore!  I think a trash management program could be put to good use in this part of the world. 

the trash dump on the shore of the Mediterranean

Since the kids were sleeping and time was dwindling, we decided to skip the smaller sites on the agenda and head straight to Tyre.  On the way, traffic had been moving freely, then all of the sudden we hit a big traffic jam.  When we got to the source, we were shocked, and a little irritated, to find that a group of boy scouts had blocked off the road down to one lane so they could try to sell their goods to the constricted cars.  Only in the Middle East.  Further on our journey, the freeway just ended without warning--it was unclear if they had simply stopped building it at that point, or if they had blocked it for some reason, but we had to find a back way around. 

Hezbollah flags in Tyre

Tyre is in the heart of Hezbollah country, but really the only evidence of that is all the yellow flags flying from every lamp post, building, and car, along with the general feeling that the area is much more conservative than the rest of the country.  I felt it best to put on my long sleeve shirt, which I had brought in case of just such a situation.  The people were super friendly!  The man tending the ancient site was so happy to see us, especially because we had brought children, and let us in for free.  In this part of the world, children are like a golden ticket!  The locals use the hippodrome at the ancient site as a running track, which I think is pretty awesome.  Wouldn't I love to have a running track like that back home!

section of the hippodrome, pillar-bases on right side held up bleacher seating

Roman road, sidewalk, and triumphal arch

the Roman road leading West toward the sea

some tombs

It was another late night, so the next day we slept in, wandered around Souk Mikael where we had been staying, and took an extra hour or two getting to the airport (not on purpose--we were trying to get to the museum...oh well).  The kids fell asleep in the taxi on the way home from the airport in Amman and slept the rest of the night.  It was an exhausting, wonderful trip.

Souk Mikael

everyone loves having their picture taken!

Through the window of a restaurant--birds kept on a table...First reaction: cute birds! Second reaction: yuck.

just a taste of what the traffic can be like...no rules

Lebanon: Preliminary Thoughts

Last night we returned from a very quick but eventful trip to Lebanon!  The country is beautiful and we had a great time, but are all worn out from the rigorous itinerary we raced through.

on the airplane

It's funny how before we went, Jordan still seemed like a foreign country to me...Now that we're back from yet another country, Jordan seems strangely like home.  Before we went, I naively thought that driving couldn't possibly get more crazy than what we've already experienced here in Amman or years ago in Greece, but I was wrong--it most certainly can!  If driving in Amman is "every man for himself," then in Lebanon it's a big game of Russian roulette bumper cars. 

mountains of Lebanon from the plane

It also was fun to gain more perspective on which things are universal Middle Eastern-isms, and which are unique to each country.  Lebanon was #5 on my "Middle Eastern countries visited" list (and hopefully not my last!).  There are striking differences between Jordan and Lebanon, as well as striking similarities. 

Universal Traits of Middle Eastern Countries:

• friendliness and hospitality
• people are trusting, accommodating, helpful (We still haven't paid our hotel bill from Lebanon because we didn't realize we had to pay cash, but the owner said, "No problem; I'll email you my bank information and you can send the money after you get back."  So trusting!)
• poor waste management...translated: trash EVERYWHERE (In Sidon, they have a trash dump right on the shore of the Mediterranean!  Sad, sad, sad.)
• crazy driving
• focus on community rather than individual
• people LOVE children and are very assertive with their affection
• people always want their picture taken
• inefficient/non-stable electricity (my own opinion, may not be shared universally)
• healthy food consisting of vegetables, bread, and meats...tomato-cucumber salad is a staple

Differences Between Jordan and Lebanon:

• Lebanon has a strong French influence, evidenced in their architecture, language, prolific patisseries, relaxed dress code, and European culture.  Jordan, though definitely not lacking Western influence, still holds to a more conservative Arab culture.
• Lebanon is on the coast of the Mediterranean, so it has an abundance of water; contrasted to Jordan's desert-like quality and water poverty.    
• In Lebanon, it's easy to forget you're in the Middle East; not so in Jordan.  
• The water-orientation really seems to be key in Lebanon's liberalism, along with the lingering French influence.  As Owen has said, it seems like the coastal towns all the way down tend to be more influenced by what they face...namely, the West. 

More details on the trip to come!

view from our guesthouse window

Desert Wanderings (Part 1)

We rented a car this past weekend (sweet freedom!!), and frantically used every spare second of it.  Friday, we wandered the desert...probably my favorite geographical area in all of the Middle East (whether Israel side or Jordan side, both are equally amazing).  The desert...it reminds me of God, in that it cannot be captured or described, but its raw power leaves you gaping in awe and wonder, and its stunning beauty encompasses you in loving warmth so that all you can think about is its very self.  Words escape me for describing this amazing place; and unfortunately, words must escape the camera too, since it simply cannot capture the majesty. 

Here's an attempt, anyway.

Every time I visit the desert, I cannot help but ruminate over the ancient Israelites wandering around the very same region and what it must have been like for them.  Things are very different today, with roads and vehicles and frequent rest areas with food and refreshments.  I'm sure the landscape has changed some, too, but much of it also is similar to those long-past days.  I find the desert to be beautiful and welcoming, probably primarily because I know that I don't have to face its harshness: food and water are plentiful, I can travel by air-conditioned car, and when I am tired of it, I can return to my comfortable home.  I don't have to deal with inescapable, suffocatingly hot days, or worry about the lack of life-sustaining water, or the hazards of scorpions or snakes, or unwelcoming people groups, or the lack of food, or inhospitable environment, or any number of things they must have faced. 

Not to mention that they had left a rather comfortable home in Egypt where everything they could need or want was abundant, and out here, they were essentially homeless.  They had been in Egypt for 430 years--it was all they had ever known.  Sure, they were heading to the Promised Land, and sure, their extended wanderings were their own sinful fault...but I tend to think, if I were in their shoes, I would have complained just as severely.  Even though they were slaves in Egypt, they had gotten comfortable, and it's hard when you're comfortable (even if it's in a bad place) to have to move on to a new place.  While they traveled and wandered, they were aliens in a foreign land, so God reminded them frequently, "Do not oppress an alien; you yourselves know how it feels to be aliens..." (Ex. 23:9).  I myself have felt a deepened compassion for foreigners and immigrants in my own homeland after being one myself; it's hard to not belong.

So, that was a long introduction to get to my main thought...Along our drive we found a beautiful beach on the northern shore of the Dead Sea, and I wondered:  After wandering for generations through THIS...

 ...what must it have felt like to trudge over yet one more summit, and see THIS...

It must've felt too-good-to-be-true, life-saving, angels-singing-Hallelujah miraculous!  Even up close, doesn't the water just draw you in like the Sirens of ancient Greek lore?  I, for one, wanted to throw all to the wind and immerse myself in the crystal waters!  And then how their hearts must have sunk when they realized how brackish the water really is, and how it stings and burns any orifice.  Maybe it didn't happen like that, I'm just musing...but it reminds me of a similar story in Exodus 15:22ff. 

I have said too much, and only covered one stop along our travels.  More to come tomorrow...

The Importance of Place

We are a nomadic family…living perpetually in a temporary state…not by choice, but rather by necessity, moving on with each new change of season.  Described like that, I guess we all are nomads, of sorts.  Life is fluid and changing, and we change with it, whether we want to or not.  As seasons change, so do life-sustaining sources, and we must forge ahead or be left wanting.  We all are nomads, especially as we believe that this world is not our ultimate home and we are only passing through.

This contemplation makes me think of the ancient Israelites passing through Transjordan: Why did 2 ½ tribes (Rueben, Gad, and the half tribe of Manasseh) choose to settle there along the journey and not continue to the Promised Land?  Was it strategic, to conquer more land?  Or were they tired of the nomadic life, and the land looked good for settling?  Numbers 32 seems to indicate the latter.  Did they miss out on God’s planned blessing by not continuing?

The logistics of our nomadic journey at the current stage look something like this: We lived in Buchanan, MI for 3 ½ years while Owen worked on the classwork and legwork of his dissertation (PhD in Ancient Near Eastern Archaeology & Anthropology).  We currently live in Amman, Jordan for 6 months while he continues to research, survey, and write under a fellowship with ACOR (American Center for Oriental Research).  When we leave here, we will live under the generosity of my family for an indefinite, temporary period of time while Owen finalizes his dissertation and defends (hurray!) and applies for jobs (double hurray!)…And then we wait…Trusting that God’s plan for us does indeed include a job for Owen.  At the point in which a job is procured, we will move to wherever in the world God happens to lead us.  In the field of archaeology, jobs are scarce, and first jobs often are not final positions but rather stepping stones—perhaps it’s the same in many professions.  As such, we anticipate a long future of uprooting and moving and re-settling. 

I am a roots-loving girl.  Roots are important for stability and nourishment.  I want my roots planted firmly in one location, and from there to spread deep and wide.  A good, solid, unchanging home seems quintessential to appreciating the rest of the world without feeling lost in it.  (I speak of my own experience; I know many solid, cultured people who had to move a lot in their youth.)  I feel so blessed that my parents were able to give this gift to me, and I still grieve that I will never be able to give this to my own children, geographically speaking.  I kind of love the tendency here in the Middle East for children to never leave home…once married with their own families, they simply add on to the family home rather than moving away.  The nomadic life is diametrically opposed to my inner make-up and preference in living.  There is something deeply comforting—vital, even—about having a place to belong, and where do you belong more than on the same plots of land your ancestors have habituated and toiled over for generations?  Memories radiate from every rock and tree and crevice of those places, from the very soil.  One would zealously do anything to not lose it or have it changed, because the land itself becomes like a part of your very self; it can be ripped away only as easily as your very soul.  It brings a deeper understanding of the tension in the Middle East, does it not?