Reflection 1 –First Impressions

(note , did you know that French keyboards are designed differently from the QWERTY setup that we have….as such know that it took some time to write this)

Waking at 4 am Monday morning, I could scarcely believe that the day had finally come to leave for Palestine ! I had spent most of the previous evening packing clothes, shoes, odds and ends, and most importantly instruments! One, a violin donated by a good AmeriCorps friend of mine (Double!), and a bag of recorders from my friend Joanne at Clark. Peter arrived in limo promptly at 4:30 and off to Boston we were.

Read

Trying to focus on all of the new people I would meet in the coming hours. My first encounter was at the airport with violist Chloe. She teaches lessons in Providence to inner-city youth; similar to the mission of Al Kamandjati. We both enjoyed tea and coffee while wondering about the flights ahead of us. The flight from Boston to Heathrow was smooth and early. Only being my second international trip, I feel that it may still be too early to be fair in critique between this flight and those I have taken of late in the US. One thing I do appreciate is the food on the plane; breakfast and lunch were both excellent. Also, having your own personal screen on the seat in front of you to watch provided films can help pass the time. I fortunately had a seat between my window seat and the rather smelly lad next to me; nice manners when I needed to get up and done though.

The Heathrow airport was impressive with its endless tunnels, large posters of ads to further confuse the jet-lagged passengers, and an impressive mall of stores surrounding the terminals. With some time to stretch , I picked up a converter (which I am hesitant to use in fear of melting my electronics) and stared enviously at the diners seated around a sleek counter selling raw seafood delicacies ; must treat myself on the way back . The three hour layover flew by and we were soon walking to were our plane would depart from. Within 50 feet of the terminal, I knew it most definitely was the right one since amongst other seated passengers there were men and women in traditional Hisdic dress. At one point, all the men gathered near a window and bobbed along to their audible prayers.

Boarding the plane , I hoped that this time, my neighbor would at least be more pleasing to the nose . A meal and movie along with a nap passed until, upon descent, I spoke with the young, man seated next to me. Turns out he was a composer that was studying at Harvard, returning for the holidays. My inexperience with the classical music field kept me from realizing that a man he mentioned is one of the leading classical composer’s of late. Well without further ado, we arrived to Tel Aviv!

We stepped off the plane into early morning darkness, but upon passing through customs and collecting our bags, this Eastern sun shone through the windows of the airport. Peter was held up due to his passport with stamps from Syria and Lebannon, but not for as long as we expected. He was soon able to buy an international cell that he called our, main host Ramzi on. After a misplaced call to Ramzi’s uncle, Peter found the right number and was told that our ride should be there. This second search of the fountain lined foyee resulted in finding a beaming man in a long trench coat named Kamal. His truly genuine smile and ease with which he spoke to Chloe and I made me feel if I had known him before as Peter.

We climbed into his white VW van, plastered with no-smoking labels just as he lit the first of many cigarettes that I would see burned by all in the coming day. Careening through the landscape, the van brought us by hillsides teeming with rock and crag with small stands of olive trees, reminding me of time I had spent in Andulcia (southwest Spain). Although, the dusty film covering all structures and trash littering the landscape was more reminiscent of trips to P.R., TX, Mexico and S.D. My first checkpoint was from Jerusalem into Ramallah; Canadian and Mexican borders cannot compare to the intimidation of multiple armed personnel (women too!). Kamal’s plates and registration allowed for quick admittance so we were soon on our way. The first task was for Chloe and me to move into our flat that we would be sharing with three other women: Celine, Sabine, and Helen. After quickly moving our luggage, a much needed snack followed by a rest were taken (it was roughly 8 am upon sleeping). I slept like a rock until Chloe woke me at 2 to get ready to head to the music center.

The Al Kamandjati center is absolutely beautiful with its large door beckoning young minds to come and explore its cavern ceilinged rooms. The afternoon and early evening was spent changing my violin’s strings, assisting Celine in the office, and chatting with the other musicians here. One of my most exciting surprises was to meet Douglas. Turns out he is the cousin of a girl that I ran with and my sister danced with, Missy M. Growing up in Southwick and attending U Mass to study clarinet, he was able with loads of enthusiasm reflect on everything that makes my home of Western Mass wonderful.

Throughout the day, the, mosques play prayers/songs that could either be played from recordings or are being read/sung live. The haunting pitches that these voices have lend itself as a strange contrast to the Motzart flowing from these musicians I have just met. It is with this imagery that I leave you all with. I do hope that I will master this keyboard soon or find an internet cafe with a ‘normal’ keyboard lol.

Editors note: Devons adventures are also recorded here.