You know the feeling, when you're following someone who has their turn signal on for four or five miles. When I think about these people, I think of rutabagas, because they're driving as if they're in a permanent vegetative state.
On the other hand, I get to visit on the road at night with drivers of pickups with the giant wheels, bearing down on my rearview mirror with their brights on. I tend to feel they are operating with a perceived need for some type of compensation. The more aggressive the driver, the more compensation apparently needed. I'm thinking, vienna sausage?
I get into a cowlike state, ruminating about this.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
My Inner Crank
We went to a prayer service last week in northeast Tacoma for the Baha'is who have been arrested last year in Iran for supposed espionage, etc., and may be coming up for trial soon. This was held at the home of an Iranian couple and they had gone door to door in their neighborhood to invite people to come and pray. There was beautiful music and chanting, and I was touched by the fervency of the Christian prayers. As a Baha'i who has multiple prayer books full of revealed prayers available, I am always amazed at Christian prayers. They just open their mouths and make it up! In front of everyone. You'd almost have to set me on fire before I could do that. The unity was wonderful. My husband stayed for an hour after everyone else left, fitting in extra rice and tea, and chatting in Farsi with Bahereh's parents. He misses Iran very much.
I'm struggling with my character traits. Honesty is supposed to be a very good thing, but it needs to be balanced with kindness. I seem to be becoming increasingly direct as I age and become more confident. I seem to be channeling my inner crank. I also thank my father, Lewis Elwood, for my crank genes. He didn't pull too many punches. On the other hand, at his memorial service, I was impressed by the remarks from friends and neighbors who knew him well: most said that, with Lewis, what you see is what you get. Very upright, straight. I've been thinking about his mother, Bo Leta Elwood, who taught me to tat. She could also be very sharp.
But what I'm hearing come out of my mouth lately disappoints me. I seem to have little patience for people craving compassion, because it comes out as desiring confirmation for their self-pity. We aren't taught to just say, "help! I need caring and compassion!" Instead, we learn to try to wrangle it out of people with our victim stories. I need to learn to give people compassion when they need it, even when I don't appreciate their way of trying to get it without actually asking.
I've been feeling low energy, doing a lot of admissions at work, and today have a sore throat and fever. I reread Roger Reini's Pilgrimage story and kept bawling as I recognized the sites and events during Pilgrimage which I miss so much. I miss Haifa and Akka and the Shrines and the Mansion of Mazraih and the fragrant grapefruit at the Bahji Visitor's Center. And the fellowship of the pilgrims, and so many other things. I'm having Pilgrimage withdrawal.
Roger, your cat with the half-missing ear is still there, hanging around the PRC. It probably enjoys the Pilgrim vibes, as well as the attention.
I'm struggling with my character traits. Honesty is supposed to be a very good thing, but it needs to be balanced with kindness. I seem to be becoming increasingly direct as I age and become more confident. I seem to be channeling my inner crank. I also thank my father, Lewis Elwood, for my crank genes. He didn't pull too many punches. On the other hand, at his memorial service, I was impressed by the remarks from friends and neighbors who knew him well: most said that, with Lewis, what you see is what you get. Very upright, straight. I've been thinking about his mother, Bo Leta Elwood, who taught me to tat. She could also be very sharp.
But what I'm hearing come out of my mouth lately disappoints me. I seem to have little patience for people craving compassion, because it comes out as desiring confirmation for their self-pity. We aren't taught to just say, "help! I need caring and compassion!" Instead, we learn to try to wrangle it out of people with our victim stories. I need to learn to give people compassion when they need it, even when I don't appreciate their way of trying to get it without actually asking.
I've been feeling low energy, doing a lot of admissions at work, and today have a sore throat and fever. I reread Roger Reini's Pilgrimage story and kept bawling as I recognized the sites and events during Pilgrimage which I miss so much. I miss Haifa and Akka and the Shrines and the Mansion of Mazraih and the fragrant grapefruit at the Bahji Visitor's Center. And the fellowship of the pilgrims, and so many other things. I'm having Pilgrimage withdrawal.
Roger, your cat with the half-missing ear is still there, hanging around the PRC. It probably enjoys the Pilgrim vibes, as well as the attention.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Road Home: Afterward
2-12-9 Midnight, Seatac, Washington
So much for basking in the glow of Pilgrimage. My legs are swollen, my coccyx is sore, I'm getting dehydrated, I haven't slept in three days, and I am a basket case from the stress of running through airports.
2-13-9 2400, Tacoma, Washington
We took the shuttle to Tacoma, I drove Enayat home to Eatonville, then I drove back to Tacoma by 3 AM so I could rest and attend to business in the afternoon. [For those not in the know, I live in Tacoma where my work is two miles away, and visit my husband an hour away usually on my days off. Ok, it's weird, but it works for me, for now.] I stopped by at work so I could get squared away for work the next day, and found myself hugging the people I had remembered in my prayers. One said my eyes were bright. I had the car headlight replaced, found materials for making bookmarks with the tatting. My daughter and her husband seem ok. I slept again for four hours. I decided to get assertiveness training.
Post Script: 2-19-9 0915
The first evening back at work I struggled to stay awake while I was charting. When I was giving report, suddenly I heard this voice going blah, blah, blah, but it was my own voice and the other nurse was shaking me awake. The next two days weren't much better. I've been trying to sleep in the mornings, working in the evenings, and blogging in between to catch up.
So--when is the next Intensive Program of Growth? Let's go!
So much for basking in the glow of Pilgrimage. My legs are swollen, my coccyx is sore, I'm getting dehydrated, I haven't slept in three days, and I am a basket case from the stress of running through airports.
2-13-9 2400, Tacoma, Washington
We took the shuttle to Tacoma, I drove Enayat home to Eatonville, then I drove back to Tacoma by 3 AM so I could rest and attend to business in the afternoon. [For those not in the know, I live in Tacoma where my work is two miles away, and visit my husband an hour away usually on my days off. Ok, it's weird, but it works for me, for now.] I stopped by at work so I could get squared away for work the next day, and found myself hugging the people I had remembered in my prayers. One said my eyes were bright. I had the car headlight replaced, found materials for making bookmarks with the tatting. My daughter and her husband seem ok. I slept again for four hours. I decided to get assertiveness training.
Post Script: 2-19-9 0915
The first evening back at work I struggled to stay awake while I was charting. When I was giving report, suddenly I heard this voice going blah, blah, blah, but it was my own voice and the other nurse was shaking me awake. The next two days weren't much better. I've been trying to sleep in the mornings, working in the evenings, and blogging in between to catch up.
So--when is the next Intensive Program of Growth? Let's go!
The Road Home Part Three
2-11-9 Wednesday 2250 Newark Time, Alaska Flight 007
In Newark we were stopped at Passport Control. Enayat's ex-wife has a permanent restraining order against him [sometimes in moments of exasperation I understand why, although he wouldn't hurt a fly] and whenever we cross the US border together they pull him aside so they can make sure I'm not the one with the restraining order. I'd forgotten all about this when we made our flight plans. So I wait, sitting on the floor in the middle of the room where I was directed to wait.
Twenty minutes later out comes Enayat talking affably with a now-agreeable agent, and we proceed to baggage claim, baggage re-check in, and security. At Newark they have a remarkable machine which one steps inside while multiple puffs of air are directed against one's body--but don't exit too soon, as I did, or you must go through all over again. I think of this as sort of an all over glaucoma check.
Astonishingly, we arrived in time for the flight to Seatac via Newark.
The flight is scheduled to leave at 1845 and boarded on time. It is delayed because a mechanic spotted a faint discoloration on one of the vanes of one of the engines, and they call Seattle to discuss this. The flight receives permission to proceed, but then there is a wait while they complete the paperwork involved.
This is the difference between Air France and Alaska: at Air France they are friendly but removed, courteous, professional, revealing nothing that the passenger does not need to know. At Alaska the crew are friendly, open, sharing every detail, letting it all hang out. At the end of the flight I thank the crew and commend them for how well they did under difficult circumstances.
An hour late and we begin to taxi. Suddenly they call for a doctor or a nurse. By the time I respond they say they already have help. The plane returns to the gate and a passenger is removed in a wheelchair by EMT's.
We take off at 2100 Newark Time. I've lost track of what time this is in dog years. Alaska concedes to pay for lodging for people missing their connections. We are happy we have no more connections.
By this time we are not just seasoned travelers, we are downright hand-rubbed mesquite barbecue.
We double-up our bathroom visits to limit the inconvenience to the passenger in the aisle. I start to say, "I'm very sorry," and amend it to "I'm mildly sorry." The Israeli's have rubbed off on me.
In Newark we were stopped at Passport Control. Enayat's ex-wife has a permanent restraining order against him [sometimes in moments of exasperation I understand why, although he wouldn't hurt a fly] and whenever we cross the US border together they pull him aside so they can make sure I'm not the one with the restraining order. I'd forgotten all about this when we made our flight plans. So I wait, sitting on the floor in the middle of the room where I was directed to wait.
Twenty minutes later out comes Enayat talking affably with a now-agreeable agent, and we proceed to baggage claim, baggage re-check in, and security. At Newark they have a remarkable machine which one steps inside while multiple puffs of air are directed against one's body--but don't exit too soon, as I did, or you must go through all over again. I think of this as sort of an all over glaucoma check.
Astonishingly, we arrived in time for the flight to Seatac via Newark.
The flight is scheduled to leave at 1845 and boarded on time. It is delayed because a mechanic spotted a faint discoloration on one of the vanes of one of the engines, and they call Seattle to discuss this. The flight receives permission to proceed, but then there is a wait while they complete the paperwork involved.
This is the difference between Air France and Alaska: at Air France they are friendly but removed, courteous, professional, revealing nothing that the passenger does not need to know. At Alaska the crew are friendly, open, sharing every detail, letting it all hang out. At the end of the flight I thank the crew and commend them for how well they did under difficult circumstances.
An hour late and we begin to taxi. Suddenly they call for a doctor or a nurse. By the time I respond they say they already have help. The plane returns to the gate and a passenger is removed in a wheelchair by EMT's.
We take off at 2100 Newark Time. I've lost track of what time this is in dog years. Alaska concedes to pay for lodging for people missing their connections. We are happy we have no more connections.
By this time we are not just seasoned travelers, we are downright hand-rubbed mesquite barbecue.
We double-up our bathroom visits to limit the inconvenience to the passenger in the aisle. I start to say, "I'm very sorry," and amend it to "I'm mildly sorry." The Israeli's have rubbed off on me.
The Road Home Part Two
2-11-9 Wednesday, 1245 Newark Time, Air France 018
Charles de Gaulle Airport was worse than Ben Gurion. We had one hour after landing to check in for the connecting flight, fifteen minutes of which was spent waiting for the plane to empty. Long trek through Terminal 2E, which is probably bigger than Seatac itself. Again the train [this time, together] and through security, then running all the way to Gate 42E where they were making the last boarding call.
To my astonishment, at the gate we were searched and patted down and our luggage searched very thoroughly. They called this a random check. I call it profiling: a Caucasian woman and a Middle Eastern man running at the last minute up to the gate. I kept my opinions to myself.
In Newark we will have two hours to go through Passport Control, Baggage Claim, Recheck luggage, and report to Alaska Airlines.
I tried to watch the movie "Get Smart" but couldn't hear well or follow the plot. I tried to watch "And Then She Found Me," which I watched last year with my daughter in the Grand Cinema, but it was too painful, and they were serving dinner. I ended up reading most of the novel, "A Thousand Splendid Suns," by Khaled Hosseini, the author of "The Kite Runner." Now listening to Classical music, the rather ominous Requiem by Mozart.
Charles de Gaulle Airport was worse than Ben Gurion. We had one hour after landing to check in for the connecting flight, fifteen minutes of which was spent waiting for the plane to empty. Long trek through Terminal 2E, which is probably bigger than Seatac itself. Again the train [this time, together] and through security, then running all the way to Gate 42E where they were making the last boarding call.
To my astonishment, at the gate we were searched and patted down and our luggage searched very thoroughly. They called this a random check. I call it profiling: a Caucasian woman and a Middle Eastern man running at the last minute up to the gate. I kept my opinions to myself.
In Newark we will have two hours to go through Passport Control, Baggage Claim, Recheck luggage, and report to Alaska Airlines.
I tried to watch the movie "Get Smart" but couldn't hear well or follow the plot. I tried to watch "And Then She Found Me," which I watched last year with my daughter in the Grand Cinema, but it was too painful, and they were serving dinner. I ended up reading most of the novel, "A Thousand Splendid Suns," by Khaled Hosseini, the author of "The Kite Runner." Now listening to Classical music, the rather ominous Requiem by Mozart.
The Road Home Part One
2-11-9 Air France Flight 2221
We waited up all night in Ben Gurion Airport, unable to check in prior to three hours before the flight, each party slipping away as their time came up. We dozed, I ate fried potatoes and hot chocolate in the slowest and strangest McDonalds in the world.
Leaving Israel was a nightmare.
1] At the appropriate check-in area, our bags are x-rayed and we are quizzed repeatedly about thue purpose of our visit and our luggage. I break down and confess my folding tatting scissors, which I then put into the pocket of my leather backpack, thinking to check it. [Later I see a guideline posted in France: the limit is scissors with four-inch blades, and my scissors come nowhere near.]
2] The baggage is tagged. Enayat's suitcase is pulled aside and pawed through.
3] I show passport and receive boarding pass and check the luggage.
4] We proceed to screening. Enayat has no boarding pass. [In Seattle, I only had to show my passport to obtain both boarding passes.]
5] Back to #3. Enayat receives boarding pass.
6] Carry-ons are screened. No shoe removal.
7] Onward to gate. I took backpack as carry-on anyway, with the scissors in the pocket.
I dozed on the plane a little prior takeoff. Enayat had a pleasant lady from Canada to chat with in the seat next to him. I ran to the restroom before breakfast while the seat belt sign was still lit, the flight attendents earnestly entreating me that I was responsible for any risk I was taking.
We waited up all night in Ben Gurion Airport, unable to check in prior to three hours before the flight, each party slipping away as their time came up. We dozed, I ate fried potatoes and hot chocolate in the slowest and strangest McDonalds in the world.
Leaving Israel was a nightmare.
1] At the appropriate check-in area, our bags are x-rayed and we are quizzed repeatedly about thue purpose of our visit and our luggage. I break down and confess my folding tatting scissors, which I then put into the pocket of my leather backpack, thinking to check it. [Later I see a guideline posted in France: the limit is scissors with four-inch blades, and my scissors come nowhere near.]
2] The baggage is tagged. Enayat's suitcase is pulled aside and pawed through.
3] I show passport and receive boarding pass and check the luggage.
4] We proceed to screening. Enayat has no boarding pass. [In Seattle, I only had to show my passport to obtain both boarding passes.]
5] Back to #3. Enayat receives boarding pass.
6] Carry-ons are screened. No shoe removal.
7] Onward to gate. I took backpack as carry-on anyway, with the scissors in the pocket.
I dozed on the plane a little prior takeoff. Enayat had a pleasant lady from Canada to chat with in the seat next to him. I ran to the restroom before breakfast while the seat belt sign was still lit, the flight attendents earnestly entreating me that I was responsible for any risk I was taking.
Pilrimage Day #9, February 10, 2009 Part 3
2-11-9 0845 Air France Flight 2221, Wednesday
The Pilgrim House was buzzing with pilgrims and others. I saw one of the International Teaching Committee members, and Joanie Lincoln, enter, and most folks failed to notice. I tried to rise and greet them but the crowd was too dense. Eventually we were called to order and walked up to the Shrines.
There was thunder and lightning, rain on and off as we approached the Shrines. The sky was purple with clouds and the Shrine's golden dome was lit up and glowing. In the Shrine of the Bab the Tablet of Visitation was read, then next door in the Shrine of 'Abdu'l-Baha I could hear Joanie Lincoln's voice reciting His Tablet of Visitation. It was a sweet and peaceful farewell to the Shrines.
Back in the Pilgrim House Enayat found a heater and dried his shoes. We went to the PRC, then to the lobby of the Nof Hotel where we waited for the other parties. At midnight we took the Sherut to Ben Gurion Airport and departed Haifa. En route we watched the whitecaps of the ocean in the moonlight, and talked, hilariously, of toilets . . .
The Pilgrim House was buzzing with pilgrims and others. I saw one of the International Teaching Committee members, and Joanie Lincoln, enter, and most folks failed to notice. I tried to rise and greet them but the crowd was too dense. Eventually we were called to order and walked up to the Shrines.
There was thunder and lightning, rain on and off as we approached the Shrines. The sky was purple with clouds and the Shrine's golden dome was lit up and glowing. In the Shrine of the Bab the Tablet of Visitation was read, then next door in the Shrine of 'Abdu'l-Baha I could hear Joanie Lincoln's voice reciting His Tablet of Visitation. It was a sweet and peaceful farewell to the Shrines.
Back in the Pilgrim House Enayat found a heater and dried his shoes. We went to the PRC, then to the lobby of the Nof Hotel where we waited for the other parties. At midnight we took the Sherut to Ben Gurion Airport and departed Haifa. En route we watched the whitecaps of the ocean in the moonlight, and talked, hilariously, of toilets . . .
Pilrimage Day #9, February 10, 2009 Part 2
2-10-9 Tuesday
The rest of the day was taken with packing up, checking our bags into locked storage at the Nof, and going to the PRC. It was a wet day with thunderstorms and pouring rain. Enayat walked down to Abbas Street in the floods, to find a Western Union, which was closed an account of the national election in Israel. He bought me a beautiful green glass pendant with the Baha'i symbol in gold inside it; he discouraged me from putting it on and I put it into my bag. It was lost on the trip home and I never saw it again, one more sorrow.
With our friends the Haghighi's and the Warrens we arranged a sherut to the airport from the Nof at midnight. Our flight was not until 8 AM but I could not imagine both of us waking in time at 3 AM. All our extra fruit I put out in bowls in the PRC where I hoped that it would be used by people staying the next day.
I visited the Shrines on my own for the last time, as Enayat was wading around getting lost on Abbas Street. It rained on and off. He was soggy the rest of the night. I used the lime from the grounds at Mazraih Mansion in our tea. Mrs. Banks from the Cayman Islands came up to me and announced to everyone that it was both of our birthdays and sang happy birthday. I hadn't mentioned it to anyone.
The rest of the day was taken with packing up, checking our bags into locked storage at the Nof, and going to the PRC. It was a wet day with thunderstorms and pouring rain. Enayat walked down to Abbas Street in the floods, to find a Western Union, which was closed an account of the national election in Israel. He bought me a beautiful green glass pendant with the Baha'i symbol in gold inside it; he discouraged me from putting it on and I put it into my bag. It was lost on the trip home and I never saw it again, one more sorrow.
With our friends the Haghighi's and the Warrens we arranged a sherut to the airport from the Nof at midnight. Our flight was not until 8 AM but I could not imagine both of us waking in time at 3 AM. All our extra fruit I put out in bowls in the PRC where I hoped that it would be used by people staying the next day.
I visited the Shrines on my own for the last time, as Enayat was wading around getting lost on Abbas Street. It rained on and off. He was soggy the rest of the night. I used the lime from the grounds at Mazraih Mansion in our tea. Mrs. Banks from the Cayman Islands came up to me and announced to everyone that it was both of our birthdays and sang happy birthday. I hadn't mentioned it to anyone.
Pilrimage Day #9, February 10, 2009 Part 1
2-10-9 Tuesday 1355, PRC
Awoke early, could not sleep. Showered, last Obligatory Prayer with the Bay of Akka in view. Enayat said, "I just remembered, someone I know has a birthday today." I look at him in astonishment. Someone he knows in the States? Who is he thinking about? Then he sings me the birthday song in Farsi. I had entirely forgotten my birthday. That was a good gift.
We took a taxi to 7 Harparsim Street, a street so narrow it would qualify for an alley in the USA but has an astounding amount of rather swift traffic. This is the House of 'Abdul-Baha, also Bahiyyih Khanum, His sister, the Greatest Holy Leaf. The Master's room, in which He breathed His last, is also paved in red tiles. In the "living room" I did get to sing the Royal Falcon before others, so as not to spoil the aura from the superior voices which followed. Enayat's friend from India enjoyed it.
We walked over to 4 Haparsim Street where the Randalls, including Bahiyyih Randall, stayed in 1919. This is also where the touching meeting between the 12 year old Mary Maxwell and Shoghi Effendi occurred. We received rose petals from the gardens at Bahji, heard inspiring words from the Master which were spoken there, and farewell.
Awoke early, could not sleep. Showered, last Obligatory Prayer with the Bay of Akka in view. Enayat said, "I just remembered, someone I know has a birthday today." I look at him in astonishment. Someone he knows in the States? Who is he thinking about? Then he sings me the birthday song in Farsi. I had entirely forgotten my birthday. That was a good gift.
We took a taxi to 7 Harparsim Street, a street so narrow it would qualify for an alley in the USA but has an astounding amount of rather swift traffic. This is the House of 'Abdul-Baha, also Bahiyyih Khanum, His sister, the Greatest Holy Leaf. The Master's room, in which He breathed His last, is also paved in red tiles. In the "living room" I did get to sing the Royal Falcon before others, so as not to spoil the aura from the superior voices which followed. Enayat's friend from India enjoyed it.
We walked over to 4 Haparsim Street where the Randalls, including Bahiyyih Randall, stayed in 1919. This is also where the touching meeting between the 12 year old Mary Maxwell and Shoghi Effendi occurred. We received rose petals from the gardens at Bahji, heard inspiring words from the Master which were spoken there, and farewell.
Pilrimage Day #8 February 9, 2009, Part 2
2-2-9 Monday 1450 Pilgrim House
We borrowed key for the Monument Gardens [Tip # 5: look for black box on wall to the right of the gate and swipe the key across the box.] We found a miniature orange on the ground by the monument for the Greatest Holy Leaf and obtained it without leaving the path. Later we crossed Hazionut to the gate and visited the Pilgrim House. I ate the orange, carefully saving the peel and five seeds. It was as sour as a lemon. The floor of the Pilgrim House is also paved with red tiles.
I've been contemplating how tatting [my home made lace] could be used in constructing bookmarks, also edging scarves.
2130 Monday Nof Hotel
Enayat returned to the camera shop while I stayed and prayed in the Shrines. I ate dinner in the PRC. I took out pita bread and warmed it up, warming up the foil-wrapped cream cheese on my skin, then opened it and spread it on the pita bread, whereupon it melted and turned into butter. So I cut up some cabbage, put it into a ceramic cup with water and steamed it in the microwave and ate pita pockets with butter and steamed cabbage. Then Emily took pity on me and gave me some hummus, which they are heartily sick of.
Tatting some more. It's addictive. I called Enayat in our hotel room to see if he would come to the evening program. He said he would come, but did not. I slept through the talk, an energetic exhortation to do more for the Faith, teach more, etc, and rode home in a sherut with people I didn't know well.
We borrowed key for the Monument Gardens [Tip # 5: look for black box on wall to the right of the gate and swipe the key across the box.] We found a miniature orange on the ground by the monument for the Greatest Holy Leaf and obtained it without leaving the path. Later we crossed Hazionut to the gate and visited the Pilgrim House. I ate the orange, carefully saving the peel and five seeds. It was as sour as a lemon. The floor of the Pilgrim House is also paved with red tiles.
I've been contemplating how tatting [my home made lace] could be used in constructing bookmarks, also edging scarves.
2130 Monday Nof Hotel
Enayat returned to the camera shop while I stayed and prayed in the Shrines. I ate dinner in the PRC. I took out pita bread and warmed it up, warming up the foil-wrapped cream cheese on my skin, then opened it and spread it on the pita bread, whereupon it melted and turned into butter. So I cut up some cabbage, put it into a ceramic cup with water and steamed it in the microwave and ate pita pockets with butter and steamed cabbage. Then Emily took pity on me and gave me some hummus, which they are heartily sick of.
Tatting some more. It's addictive. I called Enayat in our hotel room to see if he would come to the evening program. He said he would come, but did not. I slept through the talk, an energetic exhortation to do more for the Faith, teach more, etc, and rode home in a sherut with people I didn't know well.
Pilrimage Day #8 February 9, 2009, Part 1
2-9-9 Monday, 1225 PRC
We were to meet at 0900 at the International Teaching Center. Enayat needed to have film developed and to buy more cameras. It took extra walking to find cameras. Then we took the Carmelit Subway down from Carmel Center, aiming for Golomb Street. When I pushed the button to open the door, nothing happened, other than the train sliding away to the next station. We had to exit and return by the next train. Then the walk down Golomb Street, cross with no crosswalk, and arrive at last.
We toured the International Teaching Center, the Seat of the Universal House of Justice. On the prism installed by the architect is the writing [in Farsi or Arabic] ending in, "I am the Royal Falcon on the arm of the Almighty. I unfold the drooping wings of every broken bird and start it on its flight." Having put this to music several years ago, I was hoping I could eventually share this. Upstairs we see, not the Tree Beyond Which there is No Passing, but the doorway to the foyer outside the chamber where the members of the Universal House of Justice meet. The ceiling light was lit, indicating the House of Justice was in session. I was in thrall.
The Information Center had a beautiful display, with a replica of a rifle of the type used against the Bab when He was martyred--two times. The entire informational display is exquisitely done.
We were to meet at 0900 at the International Teaching Center. Enayat needed to have film developed and to buy more cameras. It took extra walking to find cameras. Then we took the Carmelit Subway down from Carmel Center, aiming for Golomb Street. When I pushed the button to open the door, nothing happened, other than the train sliding away to the next station. We had to exit and return by the next train. Then the walk down Golomb Street, cross with no crosswalk, and arrive at last.
We toured the International Teaching Center, the Seat of the Universal House of Justice. On the prism installed by the architect is the writing [in Farsi or Arabic] ending in, "I am the Royal Falcon on the arm of the Almighty. I unfold the drooping wings of every broken bird and start it on its flight." Having put this to music several years ago, I was hoping I could eventually share this. Upstairs we see, not the Tree Beyond Which there is No Passing, but the doorway to the foyer outside the chamber where the members of the Universal House of Justice meet. The ceiling light was lit, indicating the House of Justice was in session. I was in thrall.
The Information Center had a beautiful display, with a replica of a rifle of the type used against the Bab when He was martyred--two times. The entire informational display is exquisitely done.
Pilrimage Day #7 February 8, 2009, Part 3
2-8-9 1255 Sunday, PRC
Bus to 'Akka, passed the Rabin Peace Park where we spent time the other day, went to the House of Abdullah Pasha. Upstairs, brilliant chanting by Enayat, and Hollow Reed sung by our friend Inge, our pair of nightingales. Rather than spoil the palette with my voice, I refrained from singing.
Upstairs, in the dining area, though the floor is covered in rugs, the floor is paved in red, square tiles 8-10" square.
At about age 18 as a new Baha'i, I had a dream that I was walking across a courtyard. On my right was walking 'Abdu'l-Baha; we were walking together and he was holding my hand. I was immersed in an intense feeling of unconditional love. I awoke sobbing with the joy and intensity of it. The floor or ground of the courtyard in this dream was paved with these same red tiles, in the house of Abdullah Pasha.
We visited the room of the Greatest Holy Leaf [the sister of 'Abdu'l-Baha], where the Remains of the Bab had been secreted many years prior to His interment. Prayers were read in Chinese, German, other languages. I read the prayer for steadfastness in the Covenant which begins, "O Compassionate God." The evening I announced I wish to enroll as a Baha'i, I was requested to read a prayer; leafing through the prayer book, I chose that prayer, liking the "compassionate" element. It was the Day of the Covenant, 1974.
In the PRC I am reflecting about the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, as there is considerable sharing of food. Most people like to refer to this as the "multiplication." While I believe that the Holy Spirit is capable of suspending or circumventing the laws of physics as we know them, I perfer this: it was a division of loaves and fishes. Through the spirit of love and fellowship engendered by listening to His Holiness Jesus Christ, people shared the little they had with others, and were satisfied with little, and probably Christ did add some extra. It was the spirit that was the miracle.
Bus to 'Akka, passed the Rabin Peace Park where we spent time the other day, went to the House of Abdullah Pasha. Upstairs, brilliant chanting by Enayat, and Hollow Reed sung by our friend Inge, our pair of nightingales. Rather than spoil the palette with my voice, I refrained from singing.
Upstairs, in the dining area, though the floor is covered in rugs, the floor is paved in red, square tiles 8-10" square.
At about age 18 as a new Baha'i, I had a dream that I was walking across a courtyard. On my right was walking 'Abdu'l-Baha; we were walking together and he was holding my hand. I was immersed in an intense feeling of unconditional love. I awoke sobbing with the joy and intensity of it. The floor or ground of the courtyard in this dream was paved with these same red tiles, in the house of Abdullah Pasha.
We visited the room of the Greatest Holy Leaf [the sister of 'Abdu'l-Baha], where the Remains of the Bab had been secreted many years prior to His interment. Prayers were read in Chinese, German, other languages. I read the prayer for steadfastness in the Covenant which begins, "O Compassionate God." The evening I announced I wish to enroll as a Baha'i, I was requested to read a prayer; leafing through the prayer book, I chose that prayer, liking the "compassionate" element. It was the Day of the Covenant, 1974.
In the PRC I am reflecting about the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, as there is considerable sharing of food. Most people like to refer to this as the "multiplication." While I believe that the Holy Spirit is capable of suspending or circumventing the laws of physics as we know them, I perfer this: it was a division of loaves and fishes. Through the spirit of love and fellowship engendered by listening to His Holiness Jesus Christ, people shared the little they had with others, and were satisfied with little, and probably Christ did add some extra. It was the spirit that was the miracle.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Pilrimage Day #7 February 8, 2009, Part 2
Lately I had been speculating that the features of the Blessed Beauty, Baha'u'llah, might resemble photos of the Master, or of the Greatest Holy Leaf, or of His father. He only resembled Himself.
I don't know how much I should write. We all did a lot of kneeling and crawling to see [especially with progressive lenses.]
"Say: Naught is seen in My temple but the Temple of God, and in My beauty, but His Beauty, and in My being but His Being, and in My self but His Self, and in My movement but His Movement, and in My acquiescence but His Acquiescence, and in My pen but His Pen, the Mighty, the All-Praised. There hath not been in My soul but the Truth, and Myself naught could be seen but God. "~~Baha'u'llah
Very well. To my immense surprise and delight, I recognized in the photograph of the visage of the Blessed Beauty, taken in Adrianople:
Not merely physical features, although serious and weary, but a warm, strong, magnetic personality. I could sense the commanding presence and the spark of humor, the authority, and I was very attracted to this presence. I thought there was even a chance I might have caught a glimpse of His Station, had I seen the Blessed Beauty in Person. Praise God, what a delight. Idid not want to leave His Portrait and I would never have wished to be separated from His presence.
Joy!
We also saw an outer, camel-hair coat of the Blessed Beauty, with piping along the outer sleeves and trim at the neck; a very small and neatly mended spot on the upper right shoulder.
The coat of the Bab, green and more form-fitting, slender, with fine detailing.
The cotton aba of the Master, machine sewn tan cotton, one of many he gave away. I could see the variations in "tension" in the machine stitches.
A one-foot square by about 4 inch deep stone from the floor of the Siyyah-Chal, porous and rough limestone. A sword of Mulla Husayn.
I don't know how much I should write. We all did a lot of kneeling and crawling to see [especially with progressive lenses.]
"Say: Naught is seen in My temple but the Temple of God, and in My beauty, but His Beauty, and in My being but His Being, and in My self but His Self, and in My movement but His Movement, and in My acquiescence but His Acquiescence, and in My pen but His Pen, the Mighty, the All-Praised. There hath not been in My soul but the Truth, and Myself naught could be seen but God. "~~Baha'u'llah
Very well. To my immense surprise and delight, I recognized in the photograph of the visage of the Blessed Beauty, taken in Adrianople:
Not merely physical features, although serious and weary, but a warm, strong, magnetic personality. I could sense the commanding presence and the spark of humor, the authority, and I was very attracted to this presence. I thought there was even a chance I might have caught a glimpse of His Station, had I seen the Blessed Beauty in Person. Praise God, what a delight. Idid not want to leave His Portrait and I would never have wished to be separated from His presence.
Joy!
We also saw an outer, camel-hair coat of the Blessed Beauty, with piping along the outer sleeves and trim at the neck; a very small and neatly mended spot on the upper right shoulder.
The coat of the Bab, green and more form-fitting, slender, with fine detailing.
The cotton aba of the Master, machine sewn tan cotton, one of many he gave away. I could see the variations in "tension" in the machine stitches.
A one-foot square by about 4 inch deep stone from the floor of the Siyyah-Chal, porous and rough limestone. A sword of Mulla Husayn.
Pilrimage Day #7 February 8, 2009 Part 1
2-8-9 Sunday 0955 PRC
Slept deeply but could have slept longer. Archives visit: we were to meet at the Golomb gate but I took a taxi to Shifra, thinking the driver would not know "Golomb gate." It took considerable walking and uncertainty to find the Hillel stairs, some puffing to ascend them, a false approach of a school with a security officer, then turned around and saw the Seat of the Universal House of Justice and ascended the last stairs and up to the gate.
We assembled and met a different guide, rode the elevator to the Seat of UHJ banquet hall. The guide said we could recite a prayer if we chose, after doffing our shoes. I said, "That would be nice," so she nodded at me and I recited the Unity prayer. Left baggage behind.
I thought viewing "the portrait," i.e. the photograph of Baha'u'llah, which we have looked forward to so long, would be a hurried glimpse and a shuffle past, so I was surprised.
In the fall of 1974 when I first investigated the Baha'i Faith, I tried to picture the Bab in my mind but instead, forever and indelibly, all I could see in my mind was the face of one of the Baha'is I knew at that time, a very serene and dignified student who I also knew as a folkdancer, Dan W. The drawing/painting of the Bab was serene and dignified, so withdrawn as to be devoid of presence in this world. It did not look like Dan W.
Slept deeply but could have slept longer. Archives visit: we were to meet at the Golomb gate but I took a taxi to Shifra, thinking the driver would not know "Golomb gate." It took considerable walking and uncertainty to find the Hillel stairs, some puffing to ascend them, a false approach of a school with a security officer, then turned around and saw the Seat of the Universal House of Justice and ascended the last stairs and up to the gate.
We assembled and met a different guide, rode the elevator to the Seat of UHJ banquet hall. The guide said we could recite a prayer if we chose, after doffing our shoes. I said, "That would be nice," so she nodded at me and I recited the Unity prayer. Left baggage behind.
I thought viewing "the portrait," i.e. the photograph of Baha'u'llah, which we have looked forward to so long, would be a hurried glimpse and a shuffle past, so I was surprised.
In the fall of 1974 when I first investigated the Baha'i Faith, I tried to picture the Bab in my mind but instead, forever and indelibly, all I could see in my mind was the face of one of the Baha'is I knew at that time, a very serene and dignified student who I also knew as a folkdancer, Dan W. The drawing/painting of the Bab was serene and dignified, so withdrawn as to be devoid of presence in this world. It did not look like Dan W.
Pilrimage Day #6 February 7, 2009
2-7-9 Saturday 2130 Nof Hotel
0930 Met Mrs. Imani and family + other family at the Dan Carmel: sherut to Akka. We bought about 50 lbs of enormous pomegranates, grapes, then bought fresh-pressed pomegranate juice at a vendor. Looked at an Arabic bookstore, hung out at Rabin Peace Park looking for our connections, me trying to quell my anxiety.
Eventually we walked back closer to town and met up with our party. We all took 3 taxis to Bahji. Tip # 4: Supposing hypothetically that one eats a lot of pomegranates and grapefruit and little else, and sits inside the Shrine in a side room, one may discover that due to the acoustics and silence inside the shrine, every tiny sound emited from the digestive process becomes magnified greatly. So one leaves to try again later.
Today at the Bahji Visitors Center there were fresh, ripe avocadoes from the property. Perfect.
Returning to the Shrine: more prayers for unity and for individuals, the departed, the intensive programs of growth teaching efforts. This time I stayed in the main hall of the Shrine, mainly saying the Greatest Name and soaking up the spirit.
The Haram-al-Aqdas is the greater area surrounding the Shrine at Bahji, and considered just as holy. In the photos taken of the Shrine there is always a black metal gate in front of the door of the Shrine. Past the gate is the Haram-al-Aqdas. The gate appears like a veil before the Beloved. Seeing the door without the gate is like seeing the Beloved without the veil.
We caught a sherut to the PRC where I ate some cheese, the cauliflower and tahini. Enayat made one more call and was able to get messages from his cell at last. Taxi to the Nof: the driver gave us his card with a poem he wrote.
Unity prayers help.
0930 Met Mrs. Imani and family + other family at the Dan Carmel: sherut to Akka. We bought about 50 lbs of enormous pomegranates, grapes, then bought fresh-pressed pomegranate juice at a vendor. Looked at an Arabic bookstore, hung out at Rabin Peace Park looking for our connections, me trying to quell my anxiety.
Eventually we walked back closer to town and met up with our party. We all took 3 taxis to Bahji. Tip # 4: Supposing hypothetically that one eats a lot of pomegranates and grapefruit and little else, and sits inside the Shrine in a side room, one may discover that due to the acoustics and silence inside the shrine, every tiny sound emited from the digestive process becomes magnified greatly. So one leaves to try again later.
Today at the Bahji Visitors Center there were fresh, ripe avocadoes from the property. Perfect.
Returning to the Shrine: more prayers for unity and for individuals, the departed, the intensive programs of growth teaching efforts. This time I stayed in the main hall of the Shrine, mainly saying the Greatest Name and soaking up the spirit.
The Haram-al-Aqdas is the greater area surrounding the Shrine at Bahji, and considered just as holy. In the photos taken of the Shrine there is always a black metal gate in front of the door of the Shrine. Past the gate is the Haram-al-Aqdas. The gate appears like a veil before the Beloved. Seeing the door without the gate is like seeing the Beloved without the veil.
We caught a sherut to the PRC where I ate some cheese, the cauliflower and tahini. Enayat made one more call and was able to get messages from his cell at last. Taxi to the Nof: the driver gave us his card with a poem he wrote.
Unity prayers help.
Pilrimage Day # 5 February 6 2009
2-6-9 1730 Friday Pilgrim House
We slept in had a late breakfast, spent time at the Kodak store dropping off cameras and finding a store with an Israeli/American plug adapter for charging Enayat's cell. Six shekels. "While I'm sleeping in shekels and change . . . "
I rested at the hotel, as something I ate didn't agree with me, while Enayat returned for the photos before the store closed for Shabbat.
We walked down the Terraces, met our friend Penny from Australia, went to the Pilgrim House and the Shrines. I prayed for an hour, Enayat was in the Pilgrim House, he's just gone to pray.
Crows here are silver and black, the silver on the chest and like a cloak on the back. We heard a nightingale sing in the dark.
Evening: a wonderful talk by Peter Khan.
We slept in had a late breakfast, spent time at the Kodak store dropping off cameras and finding a store with an Israeli/American plug adapter for charging Enayat's cell. Six shekels. "While I'm sleeping in shekels and change . . . "
I rested at the hotel, as something I ate didn't agree with me, while Enayat returned for the photos before the store closed for Shabbat.
We walked down the Terraces, met our friend Penny from Australia, went to the Pilgrim House and the Shrines. I prayed for an hour, Enayat was in the Pilgrim House, he's just gone to pray.
Crows here are silver and black, the silver on the chest and like a cloak on the back. We heard a nightingale sing in the dark.
Evening: a wonderful talk by Peter Khan.
Pilrimage Day 4, 2-5-9, Part 2
2-5-9 Day #4
In the Visitors' Center: lunch of bread, hard cheese, tea and sugar and milk, yogurt, recently-foraged grapefruit, pomegranate. Delicious as are all meals here.
Second visit to the Shrine of Bahji: because we are blessed with a very small group of 114 [versus about 400] there is no waiting to enter the Shrine.
Tip #3: practice sitting on the floor with and without back support. [Note: before my divorce in 2005 I used to say the Long Obligatory Prayer, ending on the floor, then stretch and say the rest of my prayers every morning. Now sitting on the floor is very difficult.]
Very uncomfortable physically on the floor. My other challenge was the acute intensity of feeling I am now aware of while within the Shrine. Yet it is also hard to leave.
A thought crossed my mind, the possibility that progress in the next world may involve the increasing ability to "tolerate" the intensity of being close to the Lord. Only a thought.
In the Visitors' Center: lunch of bread, hard cheese, tea and sugar and milk, yogurt, recently-foraged grapefruit, pomegranate. Delicious as are all meals here.
Second visit to the Shrine of Bahji: because we are blessed with a very small group of 114 [versus about 400] there is no waiting to enter the Shrine.
Tip #3: practice sitting on the floor with and without back support. [Note: before my divorce in 2005 I used to say the Long Obligatory Prayer, ending on the floor, then stretch and say the rest of my prayers every morning. Now sitting on the floor is very difficult.]
Very uncomfortable physically on the floor. My other challenge was the acute intensity of feeling I am now aware of while within the Shrine. Yet it is also hard to leave.
A thought crossed my mind, the possibility that progress in the next world may involve the increasing ability to "tolerate" the intensity of being close to the Lord. Only a thought.
Pilrimage Day 4, 2-5-9, Part 1
2-5-9 Thursday 1900 Bahji Visitor Center
Awoke to a glorious dawn; low clouds on horizon over Akka and bay were glowing bright pink. Crow Time. Long prayer facing [approximately] Bahji. Packed up most of food [bread, cauliflower, cabbage and carrots] to take to PRC. Dodged [literally] across the street for 4 varieties of cheese, yogurt, and hummus.
We ate a leisurely breakfast which had me champing at the bit again. Trek down terraces with a stunning blue sky, blue bay and sunlight. Knees and calves quickly became shaky. Down almost to the Shrine of the Bab, then out the gate back to Hazionut and we're at the PRC. Just time to assemble lunch.
On the bus, I told Doris from Lithuania: "Red sky in the morning, sailors' warning; Red sky at night, sailors' delight. Good thing we're not sailors!"
This morning to the Mansion of Mazraih, which turned out to be my favorite of the properties we visited [of course, not counting the Shrines.] O, Joy! In the room of Baha'u'llah I focused entirely on teaching prayers for the intensive programs of growth across the globe, favoring Clusher 19 in Washington, though.
Before the visit to the room of Baha'u'llah, our friend Inge sang Allahumma in a voice of pear nectar sweetened with honey, tasted in the glow of a sunlit orchard. Then Enayat chanted. There were vases of roses of all colors downstairs, even more fragrant than our old-fashioned roses in my old house.
Out in the garden of Mizraih I foraged for the delicious grapefruit and oranges, groundfall only. About a mile away, across the fields, circled a dozen eagles over a flock of black-faced sheep . . . hmm. Joy!
We then drove to the Mansion of Bahji where my experience was sad and puzzling. In the room of Baha'u'llah, the very room of Edward Granville Brown's visit, I entered, sat, and had the most uneasy feeling I ought to leave. Cognitively, it made no sense to me.
The balcony was lovely.
Awoke to a glorious dawn; low clouds on horizon over Akka and bay were glowing bright pink. Crow Time. Long prayer facing [approximately] Bahji. Packed up most of food [bread, cauliflower, cabbage and carrots] to take to PRC. Dodged [literally] across the street for 4 varieties of cheese, yogurt, and hummus.
We ate a leisurely breakfast which had me champing at the bit again. Trek down terraces with a stunning blue sky, blue bay and sunlight. Knees and calves quickly became shaky. Down almost to the Shrine of the Bab, then out the gate back to Hazionut and we're at the PRC. Just time to assemble lunch.
On the bus, I told Doris from Lithuania: "Red sky in the morning, sailors' warning; Red sky at night, sailors' delight. Good thing we're not sailors!"
This morning to the Mansion of Mazraih, which turned out to be my favorite of the properties we visited [of course, not counting the Shrines.] O, Joy! In the room of Baha'u'llah I focused entirely on teaching prayers for the intensive programs of growth across the globe, favoring Clusher 19 in Washington, though.
Before the visit to the room of Baha'u'llah, our friend Inge sang Allahumma in a voice of pear nectar sweetened with honey, tasted in the glow of a sunlit orchard. Then Enayat chanted. There were vases of roses of all colors downstairs, even more fragrant than our old-fashioned roses in my old house.
Out in the garden of Mizraih I foraged for the delicious grapefruit and oranges, groundfall only. About a mile away, across the fields, circled a dozen eagles over a flock of black-faced sheep . . . hmm. Joy!
We then drove to the Mansion of Bahji where my experience was sad and puzzling. In the room of Baha'u'llah, the very room of Edward Granville Brown's visit, I entered, sat, and had the most uneasy feeling I ought to leave. Cognitively, it made no sense to me.
The balcony was lovely.
Pilrimage Day 3, February 4 2009
2-4-9 1600 Pilgrim Reception Center [PRC] Day # 3
Woke 0600, dressed and assembled lunch, breakfast 0630 to 0650 [rather scanty due to shortness of time] and found about 7 of us waiting for the #23 bus, which came late at 0715 or 0720. Tumbled out of bus, crossed street, into green Egged tour bus and off to Akka.
We visited the blue and white House of Udi Kammar & House of Abbud; beautiful. Prayers.
Walked to the barracks in Akka. Blue sky, bright sun, blue Mediterranean. We assembled outside, heard the story of the early pilgrims from Iran watching for Baha'u'llah to wave His handkerchief to them from one of the windows of the prison. We went up a narrow outside staircase, then into the building and suddenly, unprepared, into the room with the skylight and roped off area where Mirza Mihdi was sacrificed. We heard the story of that, and the story of Badi. Shoes off, into the cell of Baha'u'llah.
We walked to the "Land Gate" in Akka, then back to the bus. Most went to Bahji; we returned to the PRC in Haifa and ate bread, tahini, carrot, cauliflower, figs, grapefruit from Bahji, and tea.
2245 Nof Hotel
After lunch my plan was to nap, then see the terraces and the Shrines. I went to the female resting room and awoke about 1700. Some time in the last 24 hours I'd set my watch ahead by mistake, and had to reset it. Enayat showed up, I brought out snacks and brought him tea. He was engrossed with fellow Persians and I went off on foot to the program at the International Teaching Center auditorium, following another group of Iranians. I was trying to teach the older ladies how to pace a hill climb with breathing: breathe in, two steps, breathe out, two steps, which I learned as a youth with mountain climbing.
There was a very short, succinct talk by one of the Counselors, Juan _____, then they met the pilgrims, then we had tea and cookies and talked for an hour, shared a sherut with Haghighi's, the family with whom we waited for the bus in the morning.
I showered, Enayat had some good observations about the lack of reverence and obliviousness of the local populace to both the Christian and the Baha'i holy places. Also what Christ and Baha'u'llah said when questioned by the authorities.
I shared my opinion that the "Chosen People"--who knows what they were chosen to do? I think they are chosen to form the State of Israel in this day as a shelter and haven for the Baha'i World Center, as the only non-Muslim [therefore, non-hostile] nation in the Middle East.
Enayat fell asleep hearing me read the Tablet of Visitation.
Woke 0600, dressed and assembled lunch, breakfast 0630 to 0650 [rather scanty due to shortness of time] and found about 7 of us waiting for the #23 bus, which came late at 0715 or 0720. Tumbled out of bus, crossed street, into green Egged tour bus and off to Akka.
We visited the blue and white House of Udi Kammar & House of Abbud; beautiful. Prayers.
Walked to the barracks in Akka. Blue sky, bright sun, blue Mediterranean. We assembled outside, heard the story of the early pilgrims from Iran watching for Baha'u'llah to wave His handkerchief to them from one of the windows of the prison. We went up a narrow outside staircase, then into the building and suddenly, unprepared, into the room with the skylight and roped off area where Mirza Mihdi was sacrificed. We heard the story of that, and the story of Badi. Shoes off, into the cell of Baha'u'llah.
We walked to the "Land Gate" in Akka, then back to the bus. Most went to Bahji; we returned to the PRC in Haifa and ate bread, tahini, carrot, cauliflower, figs, grapefruit from Bahji, and tea.
2245 Nof Hotel
After lunch my plan was to nap, then see the terraces and the Shrines. I went to the female resting room and awoke about 1700. Some time in the last 24 hours I'd set my watch ahead by mistake, and had to reset it. Enayat showed up, I brought out snacks and brought him tea. He was engrossed with fellow Persians and I went off on foot to the program at the International Teaching Center auditorium, following another group of Iranians. I was trying to teach the older ladies how to pace a hill climb with breathing: breathe in, two steps, breathe out, two steps, which I learned as a youth with mountain climbing.
There was a very short, succinct talk by one of the Counselors, Juan _____, then they met the pilgrims, then we had tea and cookies and talked for an hour, shared a sherut with Haghighi's, the family with whom we waited for the bus in the morning.
I showered, Enayat had some good observations about the lack of reverence and obliviousness of the local populace to both the Christian and the Baha'i holy places. Also what Christ and Baha'u'llah said when questioned by the authorities.
I shared my opinion that the "Chosen People"--who knows what they were chosen to do? I think they are chosen to form the State of Israel in this day as a shelter and haven for the Baha'i World Center, as the only non-Muslim [therefore, non-hostile] nation in the Middle East.
Enayat fell asleep hearing me read the Tablet of Visitation.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Pilrimage Day 2, February 3, 2009 Part 2
Inside the Bahji Visitors Center, a pleasant place to relax before and after visiting the actual Shrine, there is a cafeteria where I got out our lunch: heavy whole wheat bread, creamy feta cheese. The Center served exquisite sweet, fragrant, juicy oranges and grapefruit, tea with Persian sugar, milk, small cookies. I ate two oranges and two grapefruits [we had skipped breakfast to be on time.] The fruit is grown here, I am certain.
2-3-9 1950 Nof Hotel
On the return bus trip we rode in front and spoke with our guide for the outing, Marcia. The group was instructed to meet at 2 PM to meet our guide for all our expeditions for the first time. At the PRC we ate lunch part two; more bread and cheese, pickled mushrooms, the delicious skinny Israeli cucumbers; tea and sugar, dates, and a carrot for dessert. There is a resting room downstairs in the PRC and I napped, awaking at 2 sharp.
Our guide imparted some information, then we walked to the Seat of the Universal House of Justice, where we met with eight of the members, Enayat informing each one about Sobhani Meditation; me imparting to them the great love and adoration we hold for the Institution and its members.
We took a sherut to Carmel Center, developed film, ate a felafel. I discovered I was too tired to attend the presentation in the evening. Enayat was up between 0130 and 0230 trying to phone the United States.
2-3-9 1950 Nof Hotel
On the return bus trip we rode in front and spoke with our guide for the outing, Marcia. The group was instructed to meet at 2 PM to meet our guide for all our expeditions for the first time. At the PRC we ate lunch part two; more bread and cheese, pickled mushrooms, the delicious skinny Israeli cucumbers; tea and sugar, dates, and a carrot for dessert. There is a resting room downstairs in the PRC and I napped, awaking at 2 sharp.
Our guide imparted some information, then we walked to the Seat of the Universal House of Justice, where we met with eight of the members, Enayat informing each one about Sobhani Meditation; me imparting to them the great love and adoration we hold for the Institution and its members.
We took a sherut to Carmel Center, developed film, ate a felafel. I discovered I was too tired to attend the presentation in the evening. Enayat was up between 0130 and 0230 trying to phone the United States.
Pilrimage Day 2, February 3, 2009 Part 1
2-3-9 Bahji Visitors Center, Tuesday 1120
Awoke 0300 with the grief again surging up in my breast, and sobbed a long time to let it out. Enayat woke up and we talked.
Up 0545, took Bus # 22 to PRC, the driver going about 50 mph. About 6 shekels. Enayat immediately went upstairs to make phone calls and I was sure he'd be left behind, miss the bus to Bahji. I was still irascible on the bus over, trying to tell Enayat my dream and being interrupted. There was laundry hanging outside the apartment buildings. A beautiful, sunny day, perfect.
Myself very imperfect. All my character faults, bad habits and flaws seemed magnified today, as if a divine, giant magnifying glass was focused on my faults. I thought: soon to set them aflame, let them fall to ash.
1930 Approached Bahji Shrine of Baha'u'llah with the remains of red roof tiles crunching underfoot. I gaze towards the gate as I walk, praying. Suddenly I look up and the gate has silently opened. Just as all at once, the gate to the next world opens and we go through. As I reflect on this, I wish to die. I wish to die to this world so I may live in Baha'u'llah. I wish my character flaws burnt up so I may be recreated by Baha'u'llah a new person. I am eager to let go of all the bad.
As we walk towards the entrance to the holiest spot on Earth, the place where the holy remains of Baha'u'llah are interred, a long carpet is laid out along the gravel path.
A tip on removing shoes on the entrance to Bahji: do not do this while you are still on the gravel.
Tip #2: if you are preparing for Pilgrimage, practice walking backwards with ease and grace [if you can't find Ease and Grace, practice with someone else.]
We file inside the holiest spot on Earth. The Prayer for Visitation is read. I figure out the placement of the Holy Threshold. Inside a side room, I pray. There are windows at the top of the room with blue sky showing, and I can hear crows and songbirds. Multiple Persian silk carpets.
Praying in the Shrine, the problem of feeling like the parent when we travel: the answer came. Notify the person, do not use force. Even Baha'u'llah, in the Tablets to the Kings and Rulers of the Earth, notified the kings of His mission, announced His station. He did not force them to take action. But He did allow them to experience the consequences of rejecting or ignoring Him. No force.
As I prayed for myself and for my daughter, and many, many people, both departed and still here, I did not experience the emotional breakdown. More peace.
Awoke 0300 with the grief again surging up in my breast, and sobbed a long time to let it out. Enayat woke up and we talked.
Up 0545, took Bus # 22 to PRC, the driver going about 50 mph. About 6 shekels. Enayat immediately went upstairs to make phone calls and I was sure he'd be left behind, miss the bus to Bahji. I was still irascible on the bus over, trying to tell Enayat my dream and being interrupted. There was laundry hanging outside the apartment buildings. A beautiful, sunny day, perfect.
Myself very imperfect. All my character faults, bad habits and flaws seemed magnified today, as if a divine, giant magnifying glass was focused on my faults. I thought: soon to set them aflame, let them fall to ash.
1930 Approached Bahji Shrine of Baha'u'llah with the remains of red roof tiles crunching underfoot. I gaze towards the gate as I walk, praying. Suddenly I look up and the gate has silently opened. Just as all at once, the gate to the next world opens and we go through. As I reflect on this, I wish to die. I wish to die to this world so I may live in Baha'u'llah. I wish my character flaws burnt up so I may be recreated by Baha'u'llah a new person. I am eager to let go of all the bad.
As we walk towards the entrance to the holiest spot on Earth, the place where the holy remains of Baha'u'llah are interred, a long carpet is laid out along the gravel path.
A tip on removing shoes on the entrance to Bahji: do not do this while you are still on the gravel.
Tip #2: if you are preparing for Pilgrimage, practice walking backwards with ease and grace [if you can't find Ease and Grace, practice with someone else.]
We file inside the holiest spot on Earth. The Prayer for Visitation is read. I figure out the placement of the Holy Threshold. Inside a side room, I pray. There are windows at the top of the room with blue sky showing, and I can hear crows and songbirds. Multiple Persian silk carpets.
Praying in the Shrine, the problem of feeling like the parent when we travel: the answer came. Notify the person, do not use force. Even Baha'u'llah, in the Tablets to the Kings and Rulers of the Earth, notified the kings of His mission, announced His station. He did not force them to take action. But He did allow them to experience the consequences of rejecting or ignoring Him. No force.
As I prayed for myself and for my daughter, and many, many people, both departed and still here, I did not experience the emotional breakdown. More peace.
Pilgrimage Day 1 February 2 2009
We arose and ate the buffet breakfast in the Nof, which was varied and delicious, most particularly the rosemary roasted potatoes. I never saw those potatoes again, though. It was a nice day so we walked, thinking to walk down the Terraces. After finding one of the gates at the top of the hill, it was explained to us that we could not enter before obtaining our Pilgrim name badges. We walked all the way down Yefe Nof, around the corner at the light, and all the way down Hazionut, which took at least an hour. Enayat's first views of the shrines and the buildings on the Terraces, as well as the stunning view of the Bay of Haifa were spoiled by my impatience.
At last we reached the Pilgrim Reception Center, registered in several steps, and I spent a long time in the upstairs room of the PRC poring over our schedule and making friends with another pilgrim, drinking my first cups of tea with Persian sugar cubes and milk. I think Enayat was making phone calls and visiting. Much later I discovered the second floor cafeteria at the PRC; when I first encountered it, it was filled with Persians and Enayat was in his element. We went to the International Teaching Center Auditorium for an orientation film, then walked to the Pilgrim House where we gathered in the courtyard and the Prayer for Visitation was recited, facing the Shrine of the Bab. Then we walked to the Shrine of the Bab.
[Crow Time: in Tacoma at my last residence, I discovered that all the crows in the area converge for the night in a large grove of trees in the Tideflats, hundreds of them circling around and settling down. At dawn, when I looked out of my bedroom window, it was possible to see dozens of crows streaming back from this point in all directions, flying from the sunrise and cawing as they returned to their posts for the day. In the evening, the crows all fly back from their daytime habitations and return to their nests. To me, it is magical.]
4 PM, sunset, approaching the Shrine of the Bab. It's Crow time. For reals.
There are two shrines within the ground floor of the large, golden-domed building referred to as the "Shrine of the Bab": the room where the holy remains of the Bab are interred, and the room where the holy remains of 'Abdu'l-Baha are interred. Shoes are removed before entering, and bags, purses, coats etc remain outside the Shrines, under the watchful eye of an attendant on the outside.
I entered the Shrine of 'Abdu'l-Baha and began praying. Then I opened my prayer book to the Babs Prayer for Protection where I have the most recent photograph of my daughter, Pearl, taken December 28 days prior to her suicide attempt. I lost it, silently praying and blubbering, the whole wound opening up in my heart ungrieved. [From then on, I always came prepared with tissues or a handkerchief in my hand.]
Tomorrow, 0715, we meet to go to Bahji.
At last we reached the Pilgrim Reception Center, registered in several steps, and I spent a long time in the upstairs room of the PRC poring over our schedule and making friends with another pilgrim, drinking my first cups of tea with Persian sugar cubes and milk. I think Enayat was making phone calls and visiting. Much later I discovered the second floor cafeteria at the PRC; when I first encountered it, it was filled with Persians and Enayat was in his element. We went to the International Teaching Center Auditorium for an orientation film, then walked to the Pilgrim House where we gathered in the courtyard and the Prayer for Visitation was recited, facing the Shrine of the Bab. Then we walked to the Shrine of the Bab.
[Crow Time: in Tacoma at my last residence, I discovered that all the crows in the area converge for the night in a large grove of trees in the Tideflats, hundreds of them circling around and settling down. At dawn, when I looked out of my bedroom window, it was possible to see dozens of crows streaming back from this point in all directions, flying from the sunrise and cawing as they returned to their posts for the day. In the evening, the crows all fly back from their daytime habitations and return to their nests. To me, it is magical.]
4 PM, sunset, approaching the Shrine of the Bab. It's Crow time. For reals.
There are two shrines within the ground floor of the large, golden-domed building referred to as the "Shrine of the Bab": the room where the holy remains of the Bab are interred, and the room where the holy remains of 'Abdu'l-Baha are interred. Shoes are removed before entering, and bags, purses, coats etc remain outside the Shrines, under the watchful eye of an attendant on the outside.
I entered the Shrine of 'Abdu'l-Baha and began praying. Then I opened my prayer book to the Babs Prayer for Protection where I have the most recent photograph of my daughter, Pearl, taken December 28 days prior to her suicide attempt. I lost it, silently praying and blubbering, the whole wound opening up in my heart ungrieved. [From then on, I always came prepared with tissues or a handkerchief in my hand.]
Tomorrow, 0715, we meet to go to Bahji.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
The Road To Pilgrimage: February 1, 2009, Part 3
We are dropped, with our luggage, at the Jerusalem bus station and find our way onto the express bus for Haifa. Not seeing two seats open together, I make my way to the back seat, but am not followed by Enayat, who sits with a pleasant lady and has a pleasant journey.
I am seated next to two men cheerfully getting drunk on Vodka which they have in a Coca Cola bottle. At first they are pleasant. One of them keeps asking questions about the Baha'i Faith and I eventually refer him to the Internet. He talks about his messy divorce, his children in Sweden which he has just left. The young, drunken soldier next to him decides to urinate into the Coca Cola bottle. Eventually my seatmate is turning on his laptop and playing a Seinfeld episode dealing with the subject of masturbation, and asking me if I am the "master of my domain." This behavior escalates to intolerable by the time we reach Haifa. The worst of this is my concern that my first view of the terraces and the Shrine of the Bab should occur under these circumstances. Fortunately, this does not happen.
At the Haifa bus station we take a bus on Enayat's initiative which goes up to Carmel Center. I protest; center of what? After a long and confusing ride up the mountain, we get off at Carmel Center and are looking around for signs indicating the Nof Hotel. A young man Enayat asks directions of gives us a lift to the Nof. He says, "most people find Israelis rather brutal," but we say, no, most have been very friendly.
Nof Hotel, at last, 2000.
I am seated next to two men cheerfully getting drunk on Vodka which they have in a Coca Cola bottle. At first they are pleasant. One of them keeps asking questions about the Baha'i Faith and I eventually refer him to the Internet. He talks about his messy divorce, his children in Sweden which he has just left. The young, drunken soldier next to him decides to urinate into the Coca Cola bottle. Eventually my seatmate is turning on his laptop and playing a Seinfeld episode dealing with the subject of masturbation, and asking me if I am the "master of my domain." This behavior escalates to intolerable by the time we reach Haifa. The worst of this is my concern that my first view of the terraces and the Shrine of the Bab should occur under these circumstances. Fortunately, this does not happen.
At the Haifa bus station we take a bus on Enayat's initiative which goes up to Carmel Center. I protest; center of what? After a long and confusing ride up the mountain, we get off at Carmel Center and are looking around for signs indicating the Nof Hotel. A young man Enayat asks directions of gives us a lift to the Nof. He says, "most people find Israelis rather brutal," but we say, no, most have been very friendly.
Nof Hotel, at last, 2000.
The Road To Pilgrimage: February 1, 2009, Part 2
The driver takes three of us to the Palestinian border to cross through and meet "Adel" for a tour of Bethlehem; Adel will then drive us to the Holocaust Museum to rejoin our guide and our luggage. Our guide drops us off at the checkpoint.
I never meet Adel. Since we avoided having our passports stamped on entering Israel at the airport, we are informed by the young female soldier that we may enter Palestine, but may not be allowed to re-enter Israel. Major bad feeling. We bail out. We are now stranded. We can't contact Adel, we can't contact our guide. Outside the checkpoint we are surrounded by theoretical taxi drivers like gulls to french fries. Most of the "Taxis" don't even look like taxis. Eventually we enter a taxi with a young Arabic driver, black curtains on the windows, and driven back to Jerusalem. We are not robbed or kidnapped.
However, this kid has no clue where the Holocaust Museum is. He drives past a number of museum gates, asking, "Is this it?" which we tell him, how should we know, we haven't been there. After multiple calls to his buddies he eventually finds this museum, pay the driver his thirty shekels, tumble out and find the tour van in the parking lot. I was planning to hang by the van, but we go inside for the restrooms [not necessary to pay a fee at this point], go downstairs and enter a cafeteria, where we see our guide.
He is like the father of a teenage girl: hug us, or kill us?
I never meet Adel. Since we avoided having our passports stamped on entering Israel at the airport, we are informed by the young female soldier that we may enter Palestine, but may not be allowed to re-enter Israel. Major bad feeling. We bail out. We are now stranded. We can't contact Adel, we can't contact our guide. Outside the checkpoint we are surrounded by theoretical taxi drivers like gulls to french fries. Most of the "Taxis" don't even look like taxis. Eventually we enter a taxi with a young Arabic driver, black curtains on the windows, and driven back to Jerusalem. We are not robbed or kidnapped.
However, this kid has no clue where the Holocaust Museum is. He drives past a number of museum gates, asking, "Is this it?" which we tell him, how should we know, we haven't been there. After multiple calls to his buddies he eventually finds this museum, pay the driver his thirty shekels, tumble out and find the tour van in the parking lot. I was planning to hang by the van, but we go inside for the restrooms [not necessary to pay a fee at this point], go downstairs and enter a cafeteria, where we see our guide.
He is like the father of a teenage girl: hug us, or kill us?
The Road To Pilgrimage: February 1, 2009, Part 1
2-1-9 Sunday 2045 Haifa, Nof Hotel
Room 207, view of the Shrine of the Bab through a palm tree in the parking lot.
0710: Call from Bein Harim tour company from Mercure Hotel, despite arrangements to pick us up at Sun City. I called company, they showed up and picked us up with luggage. On Enayat's insistence, we changed the tour to include Bethlehem.
0900: We're in transit south to Jerusalem from Tel Aviv. I'm in the minivan filled with nervous exhaustion, remorse for transgressing the World Center travel guidelines r.e. Jerusalem and Bethlehem. Then we cross a checkpoint and we've entered the West Bank. Sin # 3.
We stop at overlook at Mount Scopus, then pass the Dung Gate and park at the Zion Gate and traipse to the Western Wall. I am singing the round I learned from a Baha'i many years ago:
By the waters, the waters of Babylon
We lay down and wept, and wept, for Thee, Zion.
We remember Thee, remember Thee, remember Thee, Zion.
Our tour guide seems to recognize this tune, to my surprise.
We visited Via Dolorosa, a crowded and narrow grotto of market places where we were warned against purchases, which would make us more vulnerable to pickpockets. This was a nightmare of my husband lagging blocks behind, and my terror he would be left behind as we disappear up another alley. I have forgotten the name of the gate where we should rendezvous, should we get lost, and I am certain that Enayat never listened to it. 3 hours of Hurry up, Enayat!
R.e. the Western Wall. I refused to approach it, to participate in the segregation of the sexes. There is no separate but equal. I did say a little prayer for peace, though.
I avoided touring the Church of the Sepulchre as too dark and crowded and unnecessary stress. I lingered in the courtyard listening to the muezzin, releasing a few tears of stress and singing Allahumma. We eat lunch, then separate: two people are going to the Vad Yashem, the Holocaust Museum. Enayat and I and another gentleman are going to Bethlehem.
Room 207, view of the Shrine of the Bab through a palm tree in the parking lot.
0710: Call from Bein Harim tour company from Mercure Hotel, despite arrangements to pick us up at Sun City. I called company, they showed up and picked us up with luggage. On Enayat's insistence, we changed the tour to include Bethlehem.
0900: We're in transit south to Jerusalem from Tel Aviv. I'm in the minivan filled with nervous exhaustion, remorse for transgressing the World Center travel guidelines r.e. Jerusalem and Bethlehem. Then we cross a checkpoint and we've entered the West Bank. Sin # 3.
We stop at overlook at Mount Scopus, then pass the Dung Gate and park at the Zion Gate and traipse to the Western Wall. I am singing the round I learned from a Baha'i many years ago:
By the waters, the waters of Babylon
We lay down and wept, and wept, for Thee, Zion.
We remember Thee, remember Thee, remember Thee, Zion.
Our tour guide seems to recognize this tune, to my surprise.
We visited Via Dolorosa, a crowded and narrow grotto of market places where we were warned against purchases, which would make us more vulnerable to pickpockets. This was a nightmare of my husband lagging blocks behind, and my terror he would be left behind as we disappear up another alley. I have forgotten the name of the gate where we should rendezvous, should we get lost, and I am certain that Enayat never listened to it. 3 hours of Hurry up, Enayat!
R.e. the Western Wall. I refused to approach it, to participate in the segregation of the sexes. There is no separate but equal. I did say a little prayer for peace, though.
I avoided touring the Church of the Sepulchre as too dark and crowded and unnecessary stress. I lingered in the courtyard listening to the muezzin, releasing a few tears of stress and singing Allahumma. We eat lunch, then separate: two people are going to the Vad Yashem, the Holocaust Museum. Enayat and I and another gentleman are going to Bethlehem.
The Road To Pilgrimage: January 31, 2009
1-31-9 Saturday, 2000, Sun City Hotel
Hurried out the door to meet the tour van at the Mercure Hotel; walking down Allenby Street I slipped on a piece of cooked yam on the sidewalk and went down fast. Hit left knee and elbow, right outer foot. Suddenly surrounded by Israeli faces, more or less yanked up to my feet by one gentleman, and offered water by another [hilarious to me. I fell, I'm not thirsty. But he meant well.]
Met tour at Mercure Hotel on Ben Yehuda Street. Saw Megiddo from afar, a hill [tel, actually] spiked at the top by palm trees, the site of a bloody battle in World War One between the British and the Ottoman Turks; plausibly the site of an already accomplished Battle of Armageddon. Interesting to me for the history. [See "The Servant The General & Armageddon" by Roderic Maude and Derwent Maude.]
We passed Mt. Tabor from afar, and visited Nazareth up a winding hill. In the rain we hiked up to the Church of the Annunciation, where Mary was informed of her impending pregnancy by the Holy Spirit, by the angel. Also the House of Mary and related Church. On to Capernaum and the Church of the Loaves and Fishes by the Sea of Galilee. It was a rainy day. The highlight for me was an ancient olive oil press.
We ate at Tiberias, then on to a kibbutz on the Jordan river all tricked out with concrete pools and ramps for people to baptize themselves like Jesus. A Russian Eastern Orthodox lady asked me if I was going to "dive." She bought or rented the white outfit and into the river she went. The river Jordan was beautiful, a slow, green stream with white gulls circling over it and trees, especially Eucalyptus, along the banks. Someone was running a chain saw on the far shore. I picked up a twig with Eucalyptus leaves and berries for my friend Becky at work.
It was a long drive back in the evening to Tel Aviv. Speaking with the driver, we hooked up with a tour to Jerusalem with luggage, and an agreement to drop us off at the bus station at the end. Take the express bus to Haifa, and voila. Enayat was angry that I vetoed the trip to Bethlehem. I said, "take it up with the Universal House of Justice."
Elbow pain is the worst. Sleep, or pack?
Hurried out the door to meet the tour van at the Mercure Hotel; walking down Allenby Street I slipped on a piece of cooked yam on the sidewalk and went down fast. Hit left knee and elbow, right outer foot. Suddenly surrounded by Israeli faces, more or less yanked up to my feet by one gentleman, and offered water by another [hilarious to me. I fell, I'm not thirsty. But he meant well.]
Met tour at Mercure Hotel on Ben Yehuda Street. Saw Megiddo from afar, a hill [tel, actually] spiked at the top by palm trees, the site of a bloody battle in World War One between the British and the Ottoman Turks; plausibly the site of an already accomplished Battle of Armageddon. Interesting to me for the history. [See "The Servant The General & Armageddon" by Roderic Maude and Derwent Maude.]
We passed Mt. Tabor from afar, and visited Nazareth up a winding hill. In the rain we hiked up to the Church of the Annunciation, where Mary was informed of her impending pregnancy by the Holy Spirit, by the angel. Also the House of Mary and related Church. On to Capernaum and the Church of the Loaves and Fishes by the Sea of Galilee. It was a rainy day. The highlight for me was an ancient olive oil press.
We ate at Tiberias, then on to a kibbutz on the Jordan river all tricked out with concrete pools and ramps for people to baptize themselves like Jesus. A Russian Eastern Orthodox lady asked me if I was going to "dive." She bought or rented the white outfit and into the river she went. The river Jordan was beautiful, a slow, green stream with white gulls circling over it and trees, especially Eucalyptus, along the banks. Someone was running a chain saw on the far shore. I picked up a twig with Eucalyptus leaves and berries for my friend Becky at work.
It was a long drive back in the evening to Tel Aviv. Speaking with the driver, we hooked up with a tour to Jerusalem with luggage, and an agreement to drop us off at the bus station at the end. Take the express bus to Haifa, and voila. Enayat was angry that I vetoed the trip to Bethlehem. I said, "take it up with the Universal House of Justice."
Elbow pain is the worst. Sleep, or pack?
The Road To Pilgrimage: January 30, 2009
1-30-9 Friday 2225 Tel Aviv, Sun City Hotel
About 2 hours sleep due to all night rock & roll nearby. Breakfast in tiny lobby with hot whole wheat roll & butter, tea, orange juice. Arranged for a tour early tomorrow to Megiddo, Galilee. Walked half mile to beach front. Sun out, 70 degrees, wind blowing, up to 20 sail surfers out. Felafel and "dietetic sandwich at the beach" with whole wheat toast, soft cheese, basil, tomato, grilled eggplant. A salad with fresh, flavorful vegetables. Smooth, fresh hummus. Pay toilet. Beautiful day.
Slept about 4 hours in the afternoon, beautiful sleep. Walking about Friday evening Shabbat up Allenby Street, more felafel with limp fries inside the sandwich. Back down to waterfront. Enayat bought a phone card [his cell still not accessing away from home.] He bought a smoothie with figs, pecans, weird stuff.
I was approached on the beach by a strange man who spoke to me in Hebrew. I said, "Yelivan chai mihaid?" ["Do you want a glass of tea?" in Farsi.] He goes, What?? and walks off. The good old non-sequitor.
"Shalat" = "Excuse me"// "Toda" = "Thank you"// "Beg" = "Bag." ; >
About 2 hours sleep due to all night rock & roll nearby. Breakfast in tiny lobby with hot whole wheat roll & butter, tea, orange juice. Arranged for a tour early tomorrow to Megiddo, Galilee. Walked half mile to beach front. Sun out, 70 degrees, wind blowing, up to 20 sail surfers out. Felafel and "dietetic sandwich at the beach" with whole wheat toast, soft cheese, basil, tomato, grilled eggplant. A salad with fresh, flavorful vegetables. Smooth, fresh hummus. Pay toilet. Beautiful day.
Slept about 4 hours in the afternoon, beautiful sleep. Walking about Friday evening Shabbat up Allenby Street, more felafel with limp fries inside the sandwich. Back down to waterfront. Enayat bought a phone card [his cell still not accessing away from home.] He bought a smoothie with figs, pecans, weird stuff.
I was approached on the beach by a strange man who spoke to me in Hebrew. I said, "Yelivan chai mihaid?" ["Do you want a glass of tea?" in Farsi.] He goes, What?? and walks off. The good old non-sequitor.
"Shalat" = "Excuse me"// "Toda" = "Thank you"// "Beg" = "Bag." ; >
Friday, February 13, 2009
The Road To Pilgrimage: January 29, 2009, Part 2
1-29-9 Thursday, Tel Aviv, Sun City Hotel
I had not slept since 0600 yesterday, Tacoma time, coming up on 24 hours when we boarded the Air France flight in Paris to Tel Aviv. It hit me on the plane, sitting in a nice sunny window seat, total exhaustion, near heat stroke, nausea. Got one or two hours light sleep. Great view of the Alps, then had to close the window shades to stay alive. Then I got claustrophobia. Difficult flight with feeling ill.
In Ben Gurion Airport we followed signs for Passport Control and Baggage Claim, Enayat making friends all along the way, asking about the elaborate sign outside the window in Hebrew: "Welcome Home." In Passport control I showed my Baha'i ID card for the first time to an outside official agency. Difficult time locating the train. At this time I'm in severe sleep deprivation, we're getting directions for the stop we need in Tel Aviv. On the train I gave away my heavy American pocket change to a beggar collecting for a charity [I was the only individual on the car she approached.]
Found the taxi stand, gave Sun City address to the driver. Weird traffic lights: they turn yellow prior turning green. I'm so glad I didn't elect to drive here. Found Sun City, they charged 360 shekels for one night . . . tiny room, no shampoo or washcloth, I just want to sleep forever. Almost.
Someone played music loudly all night in another room. I called the desk to complain, the decibels went from 90 decibels to 70. It was that way for our entire stay in Tel Aviv, and I slept little.
I had not slept since 0600 yesterday, Tacoma time, coming up on 24 hours when we boarded the Air France flight in Paris to Tel Aviv. It hit me on the plane, sitting in a nice sunny window seat, total exhaustion, near heat stroke, nausea. Got one or two hours light sleep. Great view of the Alps, then had to close the window shades to stay alive. Then I got claustrophobia. Difficult flight with feeling ill.
In Ben Gurion Airport we followed signs for Passport Control and Baggage Claim, Enayat making friends all along the way, asking about the elaborate sign outside the window in Hebrew: "Welcome Home." In Passport control I showed my Baha'i ID card for the first time to an outside official agency. Difficult time locating the train. At this time I'm in severe sleep deprivation, we're getting directions for the stop we need in Tel Aviv. On the train I gave away my heavy American pocket change to a beggar collecting for a charity [I was the only individual on the car she approached.]
Found the taxi stand, gave Sun City address to the driver. Weird traffic lights: they turn yellow prior turning green. I'm so glad I didn't elect to drive here. Found Sun City, they charged 360 shekels for one night . . . tiny room, no shampoo or washcloth, I just want to sleep forever. Almost.
Someone played music loudly all night in another room. I called the desk to complain, the decibels went from 90 decibels to 70. It was that way for our entire stay in Tel Aviv, and I slept little.
The Road To Pilgrimage: January 29, 2009, Part 1
One AM Tacoma time: 1-29-9, Thursday, Charles de Gaulle airport:
A long taxi to gate at airport; a long trek to security; another long trek to a train, which Enayat boards ten seconds before the gates close, leaving me there and sliding away with a blase wave. He was waiting when I caught up. Our cell phones don't work overseas, which I knew, but he had to test.
We have arrived in a strange land. Case in point: orange toilets.
0600 Paris time [on flight], soon the sun will rise, it's almost light. I can just discern a strip of land, dark against the sea, far below. It's oddly long and straight, and there are no lights on this remote area. Later I realize I'm seeing the aircraft wing.
I've been tatting, making old-fashioned lace with a tatting shuttle and folding scissors which have gone through security twice so far.
A long taxi to gate at airport; a long trek to security; another long trek to a train, which Enayat boards ten seconds before the gates close, leaving me there and sliding away with a blase wave. He was waiting when I caught up. Our cell phones don't work overseas, which I knew, but he had to test.
We have arrived in a strange land. Case in point: orange toilets.
0600 Paris time [on flight], soon the sun will rise, it's almost light. I can just discern a strip of land, dark against the sea, far below. It's oddly long and straight, and there are no lights on this remote area. Later I realize I'm seeing the aircraft wing.
I've been tatting, making old-fashioned lace with a tatting shuttle and folding scissors which have gone through security twice so far.
The Road To Pilgrimage: January 28, 2009
1-28-9, 1240, Gate S12, Seatac Airport
Leaving three days early for extra time in Israel. Facing the airfield through windows, CNN playing in the background. Person on the right with a laptop, person on the left texting. I left my 5-6 lb Macbook at home. I can live without email for 2+ weeks. It's partly to mostly cloudy with sun peeking through. Enayat is sitting on the floor with his note book and cell phone.
We were up at 0600 as we promised each other; slept better at Eatonville. Excess fruits to the fridge; aging bananas into the freezer with the distant, dim hope of evolving into banana pancakes. I washed dishes.
Wearing reversable jacket with camel machine embroidered on the back which I hand-drew. I did not wear ridiculous knit dress I designed for the trip, thinking of comfort.
Boarding in 20 minutes. Shuttle passenger was a retired teacher heading back to Alaska; we talked about Hospice care, Pilgrimage, oil spills. Easy check-in. We checked our suitcases, OneBag.com notwithstanding.
1625 Tacoma time.
Completely delightful. Wonderful views of the Cascades, then sunlit clouds. Turbulance for about one hour, then sunlit frozen wasteland. The crew all seem to be French. I asked where we were and the flight attendant said, "Winneepeg." No vegetarian dinners, but excellent rice and bean salad with chicken that could be picked off. Main dish cheese ravioli with small shrimp ["sea worms" per Enayat] in a delicious tomato cream sauce. Mini-baguettes with butter, tea and milk and I'm happy.
After dinner I saw the Captain stolling down the aisles. I asked one flight attendant, "in French, what does 'Voulez-vous' mean?" She said, "What do you want?" Now I know.
Leaving three days early for extra time in Israel. Facing the airfield through windows, CNN playing in the background. Person on the right with a laptop, person on the left texting. I left my 5-6 lb Macbook at home. I can live without email for 2+ weeks. It's partly to mostly cloudy with sun peeking through. Enayat is sitting on the floor with his note book and cell phone.
We were up at 0600 as we promised each other; slept better at Eatonville. Excess fruits to the fridge; aging bananas into the freezer with the distant, dim hope of evolving into banana pancakes. I washed dishes.
Wearing reversable jacket with camel machine embroidered on the back which I hand-drew. I did not wear ridiculous knit dress I designed for the trip, thinking of comfort.
Boarding in 20 minutes. Shuttle passenger was a retired teacher heading back to Alaska; we talked about Hospice care, Pilgrimage, oil spills. Easy check-in. We checked our suitcases, OneBag.com notwithstanding.
1625 Tacoma time.
Completely delightful. Wonderful views of the Cascades, then sunlit clouds. Turbulance for about one hour, then sunlit frozen wasteland. The crew all seem to be French. I asked where we were and the flight attendant said, "Winneepeg." No vegetarian dinners, but excellent rice and bean salad with chicken that could be picked off. Main dish cheese ravioli with small shrimp ["sea worms" per Enayat] in a delicious tomato cream sauce. Mini-baguettes with butter, tea and milk and I'm happy.
After dinner I saw the Captain stolling down the aisles. I asked one flight attendant, "in French, what does 'Voulez-vous' mean?" She said, "What do you want?" Now I know.
The Road To Pilgrimage: Preface
Excerpt from letter from Department of Pilgrimage dated January 4, 2009:
"Regarding travel within Israel, you are advised to keep any additional time before or after the date of your pilgrimage as short as possible. When making your travel plans, you are asked to use caution and wisdom. You should not plan to travel in Gaza, Jerusalem, the West Bank--which includes Bethlehem and Jericho--or the area of Israel north of Nahariya and the Sea of Galilee . . . you will be asked to follow the same rules of movement as those considered necessary for the friends here."
My husband chose to ignore this. Faced with a choice of refusing to accompany him, or going with him, I went with him. I cannot stress strongly enough the power of unquestioning obedience to the Universal House of Justice and the Baha'i World Center, just for the sake of obedience. However, as I report on our travels, my notes will not reflect this level of compliance.
"Regarding travel within Israel, you are advised to keep any additional time before or after the date of your pilgrimage as short as possible. When making your travel plans, you are asked to use caution and wisdom. You should not plan to travel in Gaza, Jerusalem, the West Bank--which includes Bethlehem and Jericho--or the area of Israel north of Nahariya and the Sea of Galilee . . . you will be asked to follow the same rules of movement as those considered necessary for the friends here."
My husband chose to ignore this. Faced with a choice of refusing to accompany him, or going with him, I went with him. I cannot stress strongly enough the power of unquestioning obedience to the Universal House of Justice and the Baha'i World Center, just for the sake of obedience. However, as I report on our travels, my notes will not reflect this level of compliance.
Return From Pilgrimage
We returned from Pilgrimage 24 hours ago, I will be reporting soon, possibly in the morning. We had extensive adventures. My digital camera is not working, even with new batteries. It's possible down the road I can use some Walgreen technology to obtain Enayat's photos online. For now, I must sleep again, as I work "tomorrow" i.e. Friday afternoon.
My daughter and son-in-law are fine, I stopped by work to get squared away for my shift tomorrow and felt a special closeness to the people there on my prayer list. I want to write more, but must sleep!
My daughter and son-in-law are fine, I stopped by work to get squared away for my shift tomorrow and felt a special closeness to the people there on my prayer list. I want to write more, but must sleep!
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