Lesson learned

I learned a lesson the first week I was in Palestine.  I'd gone with some friends of my friend there to play pool at the InterContinental Hotel in Bethlehem.

Afterward, we drove out to a dusty road on the edge of town, blasting music through the car's speakers while we pulled beer from bottles and I danced with my new American-in-Palestine friend.  At one point, Firas decided he would offer me a drink by pouring beer from his bottle onto my upturned face.  Missing my mouth completely, it flooded my nose and I came up gasping, spitting and coughing.  We all laughed and resumed our dancing.

Moments later I felt the familiar stream of warm blood oozing out of my left nostril.  In the darkness, I tried to wipe it away nonchalantly, turning from the group toward the stone and rebar wall marking the edge of the road and the steep descent down a mountain, silently wishing for miraculously thicker blood than I've ever been known to have.

"Emily, you okay?" Chelsea asked.
"Umm... do you have a tissue?"
"Oh my god! Your nose is bleeding!"
"It's --"
"Oh my god!"
Suddenly Chelsea was rummaging through her purse and Walid his trunk.

"Oh, no. It's okay.  I'll be fine."
"It's because of the beer!"

"No - it's okay." Shyly, I turned away.  Firas appeared by my side with a wad of tissues procured from some helpful friend, placed a hand on the small of my back and immediately began to assist in ebbing the flow of blood from my face the way I would help one of my students.

"I'm okay," I muttered, "It's not the beer, it's --"

"It's not about you!" insisted Firas, exasperated.  Duly I shut up.

I stopped talking so much, stopped trying to prove myself.  I opened my eyes wider, listened harder.  That night I learned the hubbub to find a tissue wasn't about me.  Rather, these new acquaintances saw a person who needed assistance and they gave their utmost.

Now my friend's husband is posting pictures like this:

because this is happening elsewhere in Palestine:

 Read more 

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I went to visit Bethany in Palestine and within just a couple days felt like I had real friendships there, people I could count on to have fun and who obviously cared deeply for one another and easily and quickly enveloped others into that culture of care.  I listened to stories, laughed aloud, and cried openly.

Now from this distance and in these circumstances I avidly devour every bit of news I can gather about the unfolding events in and around Bethlehem.  My heart and limbs ache to give as selflessly as was modeled unto me; my skin tingles and crawls at the intersection of hope and hopelessness; I weep at my own perceived helplessness.