So here I am in my new home for the foreseeable future, laying in my new bed with mosquito's taking it in turns to crawl over my laptop. The 50% deet insect repellent burns the eyes and I'm emotionally and physically exhausted from carting my 'over-weight rucksack' (as defined by easy jet), 3 guitars, 1 Irish bouzouki, 1 Irish flute, a few whistles and 1 mandolin from Jerusalem this morning. The smuggled single malt from my hip flask hasn't hit the spot and the beeping of cars from a local wedding is less than soothing on the ears. This of course, to be brutally honest with you really doesn't matter . . . I really don't care that my passport was stamped despite being asked very politely that it were not so. I don't care that a tuning peg from one of my guitars has smashed and my toothpaste exploded leaving a minty fresh aroma in my mandolin case (yes I know,a stupid place to put toothpaste).
Words can't explain how happy I am to be here. A year of talking, thinking, planning, emailing and fund-raising has culminated in me being in what seems to me to be the most of exciting places. Perched high in the steep hills overlooking the valley in which Nablus sits, the views from the accommodation are breathtaking. The other teachers and volunteers I met earlier over dinner are an exotic and odd mixture. Nablus has been overrun by Canadian peace activists, Scottish female football coaches and Australian English teachers. This being said, my room mate is of the less exotic kind,a fellow Yorkshireman. EE BY SALAM ALY KUM !Palestinian flags are draped in most of the rooms but there attempt along with a few maps and posters to cover the whitewashed walls is futile. Ive never noticed such big walls, Its either that the ceilings are pretty bloody high over here or I've shrunk on the plane. Maybe both.
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| The Original 'Crew' |
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