I know all of you were expecting this, I go to Palestine, find myself a cute middle class Palestinian intellectual, abandon all I know in the U.S., settle down, bear a coupla a kids and give them mixed Palestinian Israel names. Well I'm not quite there yet since I haven't yet met him, and I have no idea what he looks like, but he's staying right around the corner from the convent I'm in. He's the muezzin of the mosque on Nablus Road and I hear his voice every time I go home for an afternoon siesta. At first, he sounded like a recording, but now I realize that he blows into the microphone before he begins and he has varying long pauses between certain verses. He's kinda like the artist that I hope to be: he can conjure up passion on schedule, and despite the honking traffic, he keeps going, his voice still clear and I can tell that he really digs his job. I bet he has a good outlook on life too. Anyhow, he has a young sounding voice and if I meet him on the street I'm sure I'll recognize it, so I guess I have to just keep wandering the streets saying Sabah Al-Kheir to every pious looking guy, hoping that the Sabah An-nour comes from him.
Also, more soldiers today. I gotta picture but I got so nervous that I didn't get a good one. How do you say, I'm chicken" in Arabic?
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