Ramadan Kareem

(Ramadan is generous. Typical greeting during Ramadan)

Ramadan has started. 

“I drink milk and eat dates just before sunrise. This keeps me more full throughout the day.” - a friend.

Al-Urdun

(Jordan)

Allah hu-ak-Ra

One of Ramadan's drawings.

(God is generous.)

Due to the language barrier I've been left with no choice but to augment my extremely limited vocabulary with other means of communication.

Thus I doodle. It is a fine way to coax a shy child from her mother's skirts – shuffling, finger in her mouth, eyes curious but unsure. Other times, children swarm as I pull out a notebook and pen, voracious for the endless possibilities this combination produces.

I draw, they draw. They teach me the Arabic names for the objects on the page. I teach them English. Their mothers look on, eyes shining, so happy that for once their children are able to learn something. They gush, so grateful that we give our attention to their children. Going to school is a fantasy. Homeschooling is not an option because their mothers can't read.

In one tent I discovered a fast friend in Ramadan. We know Ramadan as a month of legalistic observance, but for Muslims it can be a time of clarity and devotion. For me, Ramadan will always be a handsome little boy with dark eyes and eager imagination. We'd sit together, our heads bowed as we took turns drawing on a notebook perched on the cushion that served as our desk.

Along the way I'd given him a sheaf of paper – an easy loss for me and a great outlet for his creativity. On my last day there, he urged me to give him my last pen. Heart full, I handed it to him, seeing it as a token of our special artistic camaraderie.

He snatched it, defended it against the brood of boys about him and didn't give me a second glance as I walked away, already missing him dearly.

Part of me wanted to be crushed. I'd treasured our time together, I'd thought we'd had a special master-apprentice / big sister-little bro moment, for crying out loud! But it was nothing to him! I was nothing to him!

Then it dawned on me. It is so much better this way. Ramadan doesn't need to miss me. He's already faced a lifetime of goodbyes. Goodbyes to his home, his family, his childhood.

It's better if he doesn't care if I stay or go. Goodbye, Ramadan.

See-auh-Ra

Click on the image to see what I am talking about.

(car)

This van is way too perfect. It represents where I am (Liban aka Lebnan aka Lebanon) and where I am going (Montana). It's van-tastic.

To be honest, I would be quite pleased to stay in the Middle East. My mind has wrapped itself around the various possibilities and turned itself inside out in its considerations. In sum, however, I sense I need to go back – the work there is unfinished.

Shu Haida

A man being searched and another realizing there's an onlooker.

(What is this?)

China Doll

(pic at Isa camp)

The ladies love dressing me up. Not quite sure why, but it proves to be great fun for all of us!

Ismee...

(My name is...)

Amani

Arabic names are so beautiful both in sound and meaning. Here are a few of my favorites:

Amani - Wishes

Khaled – Eternity

Majid- Glory

Kareem - Generous

Isa - Jesus

Amal- Hope

Abdel Hamid - servant of the praised God

Badr – Full Moon / Handsome

Emira - Princess

Noora - Light

Iman - Faith

Malak – Angel

I have also been given a few names:

Kadyn Nisseh – Given as a joke. It is a term from the Qur'an that refers to women – it has something to do with how women tease, backstab, and are catty towards each other. Yikes.

Kadyn Altheem – Kadyn the Great. Now that's more like it.