the mountains
the fam
me and Um Reaadh
Um Fahid milking the goat
Reaadh (R) and Abdullah(L) making food
Um Fahid, the moon, the goats
them goats
Friday, March 02, 2007
jibal
Thurs March 1st
we returned today from our rural homestays. As i sit trying to think about the things i've learned during the experience, it again becomes to hard to pinpoint what it was exactly that i experienced. I don't know why it's become so hard to be an "active" participant in my experiences, but perhaps it's simply because i haven't had time to write out my thoughts and physical feel and touch the remnants of this experience at my finger tips, literally looking at the words and thoughts that run through my mind as i contemplate the world around me.
As I'm tired at the moment I'd like to just sum up a favorite moment of the trip briefly:
There was a moment while i was out with my two host mothers, shepherding the goats that i thoroughly appreciated. We were taking a moments break and sitting while the goats where eating the "kham" (one of the many new plants i learned about on the trip) when Um Reaad exclaimed out simply and pointedly "subHan Allah aj-jibal." (Praise the lord, the mountains literally in Arabic, but what is more commonly understood as something like "wow, the mountains"). I myself had been in utter awe of the mountains, especially earlier on that very day, and had thought to myself how lucky i was to be able to appreciate such a view. I had also been critical in my mind, thinking, "I wonder if they look onto these mountains with the fresh eyes that i do and appreciate the sheer beauty of the land?" cynically assuming that they took for granted what was right in front of them. What i loved about Um Reaadh's outburst is that she proved me wrong.
It also got me thinking about some of my first words when i saw these mountains the first day. I said to myself "This type of stuff would make someone believe in God." The next day i had a conversation with my second host mother (note this is all before Um Reaadh's outburst) asking her if it was the wind that made the beautiful shapes in the mountain sides (something that already assumed was true from what little geological knowledge i could muster up from 8th grade science, but thought would be fun to toss up as an icebreaker of conversation). Yet her response wasn't what i expected. She responded that "no no, not the wind. They're just that way SubHan allah." If i hadn't taken that 8th grade science class and felt so assured that it was indeed the wind and some geological phenomenon that made these mountains, would i simply agree with her? And if i did agree with her, and believed that it was the work of God, would i be offended when someone who didn't believe in God came and tried to tell me that it was simply the air that i breathe every day, that made such beautiful shapes? Later that day Um Reaadh was getting more interested in me as she heard me claim the auto-responsive "In Sha allah's" and "Alhamdi"s in selective parts of conversation (i.e. speaking about future events, or about my health and family). Eventually she asked me "do you pray?" I said no. I sensed the utter disappointment in her face as she had been praising for so long all day to her friend, but now had nothing to claim in glory of my response. Was i in some way rejecting the very foundation upon which she understands the mountains around her? Would i be just as upset if i asked someone "do you believe in gravity?" and they said "nope"? Of course, I don't want to go as far as to say that science and religion are two separate entities, because one can always be a believer in the fact that the wind makes those mountains, and then be enamored by the amazing harmony with which this world circles. Nor do i really want to break down this conversation into one of educated people with 8th grade science vs. those without it and their tendencies to be more spiritual. on the contrary i know that there are millions of many more important factors that have affected the religiosity of my host mothers, and i could never really understand the weight with which the beauty of the mountains carried within those factors. I guess the point here is simply to re-illustrate the power within some religious manifestations and how structurally complicated it is to really question religious beliefs. Like the astonishingly complex, intricate, and individual carvings on the face of each mountain and the unknown elements that form them, I may never know all the factors that have molded a belief in God, nor may i understand their resonating strength within them because each one is so individual and not my own (i.e. if we were to refer back to the rock analogy, this would be the structural integrity of an individual carving, like those ones that look like they could crack at the blink of an eye, but then you notice the enormous rock balancing precariously from above that must have been there for a century or so and you just can't understand it).
i'm too unorganized to end this post, so that's it.
we returned today from our rural homestays. As i sit trying to think about the things i've learned during the experience, it again becomes to hard to pinpoint what it was exactly that i experienced. I don't know why it's become so hard to be an "active" participant in my experiences, but perhaps it's simply because i haven't had time to write out my thoughts and physical feel and touch the remnants of this experience at my finger tips, literally looking at the words and thoughts that run through my mind as i contemplate the world around me.
As I'm tired at the moment I'd like to just sum up a favorite moment of the trip briefly:
There was a moment while i was out with my two host mothers, shepherding the goats that i thoroughly appreciated. We were taking a moments break and sitting while the goats where eating the "kham" (one of the many new plants i learned about on the trip) when Um Reaad exclaimed out simply and pointedly "subHan Allah aj-jibal." (Praise the lord, the mountains literally in Arabic, but what is more commonly understood as something like "wow, the mountains"). I myself had been in utter awe of the mountains, especially earlier on that very day, and had thought to myself how lucky i was to be able to appreciate such a view. I had also been critical in my mind, thinking, "I wonder if they look onto these mountains with the fresh eyes that i do and appreciate the sheer beauty of the land?" cynically assuming that they took for granted what was right in front of them. What i loved about Um Reaadh's outburst is that she proved me wrong.
It also got me thinking about some of my first words when i saw these mountains the first day. I said to myself "This type of stuff would make someone believe in God." The next day i had a conversation with my second host mother (note this is all before Um Reaadh's outburst) asking her if it was the wind that made the beautiful shapes in the mountain sides (something that already assumed was true from what little geological knowledge i could muster up from 8th grade science, but thought would be fun to toss up as an icebreaker of conversation). Yet her response wasn't what i expected. She responded that "no no, not the wind. They're just that way SubHan allah." If i hadn't taken that 8th grade science class and felt so assured that it was indeed the wind and some geological phenomenon that made these mountains, would i simply agree with her? And if i did agree with her, and believed that it was the work of God, would i be offended when someone who didn't believe in God came and tried to tell me that it was simply the air that i breathe every day, that made such beautiful shapes? Later that day Um Reaadh was getting more interested in me as she heard me claim the auto-responsive "In Sha allah's" and "Alhamdi"s in selective parts of conversation (i.e. speaking about future events, or about my health and family). Eventually she asked me "do you pray?" I said no. I sensed the utter disappointment in her face as she had been praising for so long all day to her friend, but now had nothing to claim in glory of my response. Was i in some way rejecting the very foundation upon which she understands the mountains around her? Would i be just as upset if i asked someone "do you believe in gravity?" and they said "nope"? Of course, I don't want to go as far as to say that science and religion are two separate entities, because one can always be a believer in the fact that the wind makes those mountains, and then be enamored by the amazing harmony with which this world circles. Nor do i really want to break down this conversation into one of educated people with 8th grade science vs. those without it and their tendencies to be more spiritual. on the contrary i know that there are millions of many more important factors that have affected the religiosity of my host mothers, and i could never really understand the weight with which the beauty of the mountains carried within those factors. I guess the point here is simply to re-illustrate the power within some religious manifestations and how structurally complicated it is to really question religious beliefs. Like the astonishingly complex, intricate, and individual carvings on the face of each mountain and the unknown elements that form them, I may never know all the factors that have molded a belief in God, nor may i understand their resonating strength within them because each one is so individual and not my own (i.e. if we were to refer back to the rock analogy, this would be the structural integrity of an individual carving, like those ones that look like they could crack at the blink of an eye, but then you notice the enormous rock balancing precariously from above that must have been there for a century or so and you just can't understand it).
i'm too unorganized to end this post, so that's it.
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