Wayfarer By Faith: Mountain

I don't even know where to begin. But I will try my utmost to describe my first-day experience living and settling into a Druze village!

As you might have read on my About Me page or my Facebook statuses, I am presently staying and volunteering in a tiny Druze village far north in Israel - quite unbelievably close to the borders of Lebanon and Syria. The Lebanese border is only less than twenty kilometres from where I am staying!

This teeny, weeny place, nestled in between and up along the mountainous region of Northern Galilee - about 2,000 metres above sea level - is known as the age-old village of Peqi'in. Few people (even Israelis) would have heard of this remote place. It has a small population of about 5,400 inhabitants and everyone pretty much knows everybody else. More than 70% of the village belong to Druze families, while the other 30% are mainly Christian and then Muslim.

I arrived at Peqi'in after a three and a half hour journey from Jerusalem with my fellow volunteer mates, Tatiana and Katerina. They are both lovely ladies from Czech Republic. I learnt that I am the third volunteer to come to this village!

When we arrived, I soon realized that there were no street signs nor house numbers. Although the roads are fairly well-paved and the neighborhood is clean, you can tell that this is truly a small village - far, far away from the city lights and incessant chaos of the likes of Tel Aviv and maybe even Jerusalem.

It all began to sink in a little more when I realized that very few people spoke English on a conversational level. In fact, I had a sinking gut feeling that most people would not be capable of answering my questions or of holding a proper conversation with me no matter how hard I tried to communicate. I was beginning to feel a little more than overwhelmed at this sudden realization!

Everyone here speaks fluent Arabic (that is their first language at home) as well as Hebrew - which is a compulsory language at school in addition to English. However, most of the students in the Druze communities (and there are sixteen such Druze villages in the Northern region of Israel) are not capable of conversational English due to the fact that they have no one to practice speaking it with. Unlike Hebrew or Arabic speakers in the urban cities and towns (who would have more encounters with tourists as well as foreign English teachers), the students in Druze village schools hardly have the opportunity to use the English that they learn at school. As a result, many of their young people struggle with English and very few end up going to universities (because Israeli universities require students to speak, read & write English well enough to learn university subjects in English).

So this is one of the reasons why the leaders and parents of the Druze community and council have decided that they want to open up their homes and schools to foreign volunteers - so that their children and families will have the unique opportunity to learn English in a practical way. This is truly a pioneering program, and I thank God for such an unheard-of opportunity to volunteer in a community that has once always been a closed door to the outside world due to the secret principles of the Druze religion. I don't have time to write about the Druze faith here, but if you Google it, I'm sure you'll find some information, although they are extremely scarce due to the level of secrecy kept by the orthodox Druze religious leaders.

Anyhow, I just realized that I have not even begun writing about my experience and impressions of the Druze village I am in! I have only so far brushed the surface by attempting to paint you the picture with simple facts and general observations of the Druze community.

Stay tuned for my next journal entry, as I will write about the people I have met so far, the funniest things that have happened, the things that have taken me by surprise, the answered prayers, the family I am living with, the challenges I am facing and the language barrier that I am attempting each day to overcome!

I thought I was crossing the border from Eilat into the neighbouring country of Jordan. But I think I have actually landed in another planet altogether! I will attempt to explain why – but I think mere words and photographs will never be able to do justice to the reality of the wonders that my eyes have seen.

After crossing the Yitzhak Rabin border from Israel into Jordan, my mom and I headed straight for the Bedouin territory of the Wadi Rum desert!

Truly, truly, truly – the Wadi Rum desert, all 300 kilometres of it, is an other-worldly place of endless sand dunes in red, yellow, white and black as well as majestically towering rock mountains that change colours at different times of the day. It is also the home of the famously hospitable Bedouin folk - the original nomads of the land who have occupied the Wadi Rum desert for hundreds of years. Every man, woman, boy or girl seems to know each rock mountain and desert plain by name – and yes they literally have a specific name for each mountain that has been passed on from generation to generation. Our Bedouin guide Nadjah told us that he can drive in his jeep through the desert in pitch black night at two or three in the morning and know exactly how to get around or get home to his village and camp. It is quite cool to think that these massive rocks and mountains and ravines are their ‘street’ names!

It was an absolute privilege and thrill to ride in Nadjah’s jeep and explore the red sand dunes, canyons and rock mountains of Wadi Rum from afternoon till sunset. The place itself is so vast and so huge that you feel so very small – and the only way I could describe it is in two words: devastatingly beautiful. I feel it is appropriate to use the word ‘devastating’ because it gives an edge to the softer connotation that comes with the word ‘beautiful’. The words are a stark contrast to each other, and yet when put together, the two perfectly reflects the fearsome wonder of this glorious place which belongs to the Bedouin people.

In the sweltering hot summer day, it can get up to forty degrees and over! However, I am still really glad that my mom and I decided to do this. You can’t even put a price to this experience because it is truly a priceless one. Being out there in the desert makes you feel like you’re the only one on this Martian-like planet, and that there is no one else out here who will judge you or harm you or make life difficult for you – except the harshness of the desert, of course!

The stunning facades of the rock mountains and ginormous boulders are something in itself – just standing before one is enough for you to gape in silent awe. The Bedouin have a huge respect for these structures of nature – they believe God created them and left them here for a reason. It is devastatingly beautiful precisely because the place itself is very difficult terrain to live and survive in – no matter how much any one could admire and love it for its epic splendour. I honestly have a deep respect for the Bedouin now for all these years they have lived in this harsh desert climate and barren landscape. They do have seasons from summer, autumn, winter to spring. They even have snow in winter and flowers in spring. But it is still not a place one would easily raise children and find or cultivate food, shelter and water.

It can get eerily quiet and turn pitch black in the night as there are literally zero city lights or any kind of artificial light apart from our lamps or the generated electricity that lasts until after dinner time. But the most memorable thing about being out there in the desert at night is the incredible night-scape vista of thousands upon thousands of stars all illuminating the clear, dark skies. One could even spot the cloud-burst of star clusters that belong to the Milky Way surrounded by the mysterious shadows of the rocky mountains all around the Bedouin camp. It was really nice to sit outside with my ukulele in hand and play some worship songs in the night!

Surprisingly, it does get chilly at night, and a pleasant desert breeze blows through. So going to Wadi Rum in the height of summer wasn’t that bad at all. In the day time the sand can get scorching hot, burning the soles of your feet if you didn’t wear shoes (I liked wearing sandals). However, Nadjah was really clever to send me and my mom off to walk through a canyon that created looming shadows in between as a cool wind blew through the rocks in the height of the afternoon heat. So the desert summer temperatures didn’t affect us that drastically after all. We just needed loads of water (which Nadjah was kind enough to provide a good few bottles to keep us hydrated), a good scarf and hat, as well as of course a sense of adventure! After all, how often do you get to be out in a Middle Eastern desert, in a Middle Eastern summer, with an exceptionally hospitable and bright Bedouin guide who speaks brilliant English? (Nadjah learnt English only six years ago all by himself and practiced it with tourists passing through.)

Stay tuned for more stories of my adventures in Jordan! For more photos check out my Wadi Rum Desert and Wadi Rum Canyon albums.