Idealism Affirmed

The last few days were of the kind that fuel my unbridled idealism and make no problem in the world seem insurmountable. If you wish to speak to me about social or political realities, now is probably not the time. Perhaps a few more weeks in less idyll areas will dampen my mood, but for now I’ll just revel in the affirmation of my heart’s desires.

Much can be said about Cana, site of Jesus’ first miracle and modern day thriving Palestinian town where we met our new friends from the beach. It wasn’t until the girls led us to the first church, which was built on the site where Christ turned water into wedding wine, that we realized the historical and Biblical significance of the town. The church itself was rather unremarkable; as, in my opinion, many churches are. Too big, too gaudy, too new and—in many a Deep South case—too much like Wal-Mart for the soul.

What was remarkable, however, was the way our two Muslim friends were greeted by the church’s caretakers. Each was absolutely at ease with the other, a pattern we would notice throughout our stay in Cana. Lama, our Palestinian guide, pointed out countless homes in mixed neighborhoods of Christians and Muslims and talked about how many considered their immediate neighbors family, whether faith was shared or not.

Jon David and I arrived in Cana expecting to spend an afternoon with our new friends and then depart for Nazareth, but I had an idea that they might invite us to spend the night. I was only slightly wrong; there was no invitation, only an expectation. “Why would you pay for a hotel room when you can stay here with us?” was the slightly offended response to our suggestion it was time to leave.

It’s a good thing we were flexible because a party had been planned in our honor and it would have been a shame to miss. Throughout the night, somewhere around twenty or so neighbors and family members drifted in and out to say hello. Jon David was quite the favorite with the children, for whom he had brought tons of candy in an effort to “speak their language.” His breakthrough didn’t come, however, until he brought out the Ipod. Immediately Ale and Yazid, the two teenage boys in the room, overcame their shyness and within hours had proclaimed JD their brother.

It was gratifying for me to watch Jon David fall in love with these people. Though he was constantly surprised by their generosity, I’ve been on this side of the world long enough to know that’s just the Arab way. It isn’t exactly that attribute that makes this family so special to me; it was that they were my first affirmation of why I am here. As part of the one million Arabs who make up 20% of Israel’s population, their quality of life is substantially higher than their counterparts in Gaza and the West Bank. Like most Palestinians, they are passionate about their cause. Yet, they are also some of the most intelligent and discerning people that I’ve ever spoken to on the subject. They readily criticized both sides for their failures and never made the kind of sweeping generalizations that people are prone to when discussing the other side in this issue. They, Palestinian citizens of Israel, are actually proud of their Israeli IDs. A few of the kids told me that Hebrew was their favorite subject in school.

In short, these are the kind of people I want to know and whose respect I want to earn. I can only hope that my path crosses many more like them, but I suppose if there were a surplus we wouldn’t be in the bind we’re in. The realist in me is warning that I may have just found a diamond in the rough in both the town of Cana and the family that welcomed me as their own. For now, I’m going to keep my rose colored lenses on though. I’m an optimist at heart; you have to be in my line of work. (I know you saw that coming, PC.)