culture

I spent a day visiting several homes in the rural areas north of Asheville. It was a day for sitting on porches or around kitchen tables, learning about greasy beans and half runners, and what life was like before the "big road" (interstate 26) chopped up their farms and mountains.  I was soaking up the country history and personalities.  But I had one more visit to make.  A new patient, farther out then any of the rest.  After a half a mile up a gravel road I had no idea what to expect.  A walk through a garden, and up a porch led me into a big airy room where I noticed a wall of plates with a very Israeli look.

After introducing myself and asking about the patient, I asked if the plates were from Jerusalem.  From around the corner popped a 70 year old man, the patient's son-in-law.  "The plates come from all over Palestine. How did you know?" His heavy middle eastern accent was a striking change from the sounds I'd been listening to all day.

I shared that I had been to Israel many years ago and had bought a similar plate as a souvenir.  "And where in Palestine are you from?"  I asked.

"Haifa."  he answered.  "Have you heard of it?"

"I had my very first falafel in Haifa!"  I said excitedly.

And with that we were friends....

His vivid descriptions of  his homeland whetted my travel and adventure hunger.  And I think it had been awhile since someone had shown interest rather then distrust about his country.  He wanted to hear about all the places I had been to in his area.  And I wanted to hear all the great sites I had missed.

That first visit I was given a cold glass of water scented with orange blossoms to drink on the way home.  The next time we talked palestinian food non stop, and I left with a can of eggplant and specific directions on how to make my own baba ganoush.  After my next visit I got a fascinating lesson on the history of bediounins and a packet of za'atar to flavor tomatoes and cucumbers with.  Each time I spent quality time with his mother in law, and then hunted him down for more middle east discussion before I headed home.

Last night, while driving home, I pondered the mysteries of friendship.  Two people, different cultures, different generations, different religions, different countries and cultures, different everything - and yet so much to talk about.

I thought about C.S. Lewis' quote on friendship. "Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one." 

And it was all hiding there at the end of a gravel road.