A funeral

I awoke early this morning to get ready for the Mass honoring Mary Magdalene. Since gardens are rare and precious in the Middle East, I thought I would begin my homily on that note. Then I would talk about how Pope Gregory conflated Magdalene with the sinful woman and her history has never been the same again. My words were extricate her of that improper judgment. 

Speaking of gardens, I had a little visitor from yesterday's garden, After showering and dressing, I felt what might have been a spider on my neck and onto my hair. I flicked it away but I wasn't confident that I shooed it away. Maybe it was nothing at all. Your imagination takes over when you are in a foreign land for this spider felt massive, and one never knows if it is poisonous. I felt it again a minute later, and this time I knocked it off me. I was tiny and it did not look ferocious. It was maybe an eighth of an inch but it felt like three inches when I could not tell where it was. I laughed at what our minds can do.

After Mass, a friend stopped over for a coffee so I baked some medium-sized quiches and a chocolate cake. She left before they were ready, but the quiches were quite tasty, and the cake was cooked just the right amount of time. I was relieved. I planned to frost it later, and since the oven was hot, I baked some ready made meat pies for lunch because we only have a cook on Mondays and Wednesdays. 

Later on when I came back to frost the cake, I discovered we had half a stick of butter, so I had to improvise and I made dark chocolate ganache to cover the cake. The cake should go very well with ice cream.

During the afternoon, I altered my plans to attend a funeral of a friend's husband. I know this woman from Bible Study, and her husband had been suffering from terminal cancer. He died yesterday so the burial was today with some prayers in the church on Sunday when his son can return from the U.S. The poor man was in a coma for half a year.

The funeral was Orthodox and it was supposed to last ten minutes. Since this was a well connected family, many priests arrived, but as one priest pointed out, not one of them visited him in the hospital or her at the family home. The service lasted 40 minutes because they needed to earn their tip. 

The body was brought in and the top of the casket was removed. The chapel was at a funeral home octagonally shaped with an altar stone in the center. The chanting of the priests was quite moving and at points there were five point harmony. I had no idea what they were saying except Alleluia and Amin. They would occasionally used the thurifer to incense the body, the priests, and the assembly. This thurifer was quite cool because there are ceramic balls attached to it as the incensing must have sound with it. Most people like the smells and bells of church rituals. 

Few people attended the burial, and the reception line moved quite fast. Afterwards, a meal was to be held at the function hall at the Orthodox Church in Sweifieh. I was invited to the lunch, but I was told I would sit with the men and eat mansaf. I like mansaf, but it would have been awkward to sit in silence with people I don't know for an hour. I'll get to the prayer service on Sunday, and I'll get to see the women of the Bible Study group.

I had no idea where I was. I followed a GPS to the cemetery, which I think was northeast of Jebel Hussein, where I live. I did not recognize any place on this route. There was a tall building called the Mega Mall but it seemed like an old empty shell of a building. I did like the Christian cemetery though. It was comforting to see the crosses and statues that are so familiar to me. It is, however, in a part of town that is not well connected to the major centers. 

Afterwards, I came home and worked on a watercolor painting. After sketching a supposed scene of Baghdad with pen, I quickly threw down some watercolors. It was a bit fun. After I did that, I walked to Al Abdali Mall to get in my steps. It is alway better to go in the evening. On my way, I met a man walking a dog. I had seen them before so I stopped and asked it I could pet their dog, whose name is Lucky. He was delighted, and so was Lucky. Lucky's coat was very soft and he was a mid-sized dogs. Most Muslims do not like to have dogs around, but I see more and more of them that are cared for well-enough. I was glad to be able to pet Lucky.

I took a long walk to the Mall, passing by the Judicial Court, the Education Center, some other official buildings, and some barracks. I always greet the soldiers, who look so stern, and they their face changes when I greet them. I like seeing the smiles, and I hope it is a bright spot in their day as well. 

Novena to St. Ignatius of Loyola

 Novena to St. Ignatius of Loyola

Pray each day at home from July 23rd to July 31st

 

 

 

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

 

Opening Prayer (ALL): Lord, teach us to be generous. Teach us to love you and serve you as you deserve; to give and not to count the cost; to fight and not to heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labor and not to look for reward, except to know that we seek your will.

 

 

 

Lord Jesus, Eternal King, I feel your gaze on me. With the angels and powers martyrs and saints, I stand before you to heed your call. You have blessed me with holy desires, and I come before you to make my offering. Let it be my desire and my choice, if you want it, too, to live my life as you lived yours. You understand our joys and our suffering, and you call me to choose your Greater Glory. I will labor to bring God’s reign if you will give me the gift to do it. Here is the grace I seek from you today: 

 

 

(Mention your request here…)

 

(ALL): Father in heaven; give us today the same grace that Ignatius received – to know Jesus intimately – to love him more dearly – and to follow him more closely. Help us to remember that with Jesus as our model – we may be able to reveal him – in all we say and all we do. This we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With St. Ignatius we pray:

 

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O Good Jesus, hear me.
Within Your wounds hide me.
Never let me be separated from you.
From the malevolent enemy defend me.
In the hour of my death call me.
And bid me come unto You,
That with Your saints,
I may praise You forever and ever. Amen. 

 

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, and we forgive those who trespass against us. Do not let us be led into temptation but deliver us from evil. Amen. 

 

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

 

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen. 

 

Pray: The Suscipe

 

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding, and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.
You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me.

Novena Prayer to St. Ignatius of Loyola

To be prayed during Mass following the Intercessory Prayers.

July 23^rd to July 31st

 

 

Lord Jesus, Eternal King, I feel your gaze on me. With the angels and powers martyrs and saints, I stand before you to heed your call. You have blessed me with holy desires, and I come before you to make my offering. Let it be my desire and my choice, if you want it, too, to live my life as you lived yours. You understand our joys and our suffering, and you call me to choose your Greater Glory. I will labor to bring God’s reign if you will give me the gift to do it. Here is the grace I seek from you today: 

 

(Mention your request here…)

 

(ALL): Father in heaven; give us today the same grace that Ignatius received – to know Jesus intimately – to love him more dearly – and to follow him more closely. Help us to remember that with Jesus as our model – we may be able to reveal him – in all we say and all we do. This we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

With St. Ignatius we pray:

 

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O Good Jesus, hear me.
Within Your wounds hide me.
Never let me be separated from you.
From the malevolent enemy defend me.
In the hour of my death call me.
And bid me come unto You,
That with Your saints,
I may praise You forever and ever. Amen.

Accompaniment to Wadi Shatir

Much of Jesuit life is about accompaniment and I had a chance to do that with a summer outing for the people who attend functions at the Jesuit Centre. We were Somalis, Sudanese, Jordanians, Iraqi, Yemeni, Americans, Egyptians, and a few other places. 

We left for Wadi Shakir around 9:30 a.m. I know I misspelled the name of the place, but I know it is very near to Iraq al Amir, which means the Caves of the Princes. It is where the prophet Tobit has inscribed his name on the entrance to the Cave walls and it would be the place where Elijah listened for God's voice following the thunder and rush of wind. It is a lush wadi (valley) where lots of eggplants, zucchini, bananas, and other produce are grown. 

This is the location of the Royal Flower, that is rarely seen. It is the Black Iris, which is really dark purple, but it blossoms in late April and early May. Few Jordanians have ever seen one in real life, but it is their national symbol.

The road to this water camp was quite eventful as we passed many goats, a white camel, a braying donkey dotted along a scenic mountainside that almost looks like an Italian countryside. The hills and valleys make for some nice scenery. As we approached the campsite, we could see the Royal Palace that is designed for recreational purposes on the highest hill. You can see the Jordan Valley and River, the Dead Sea, and the terrain of Palestine. Sometimes you can see what looks like layers of smoke on the horizon, but it is dust from the desert that gets kicked up by the wind. All in all, it is a beautiful view, and I always think of the Prophet Isaiah's words: Make straight the pathways. The valleys will be filled in and the mountains laid low, and the road home from exile will be flat, and the desert will be bursting with flowers and fruited trees. 

The road was winding and narrow and most drivers don't like to give an inch. Drivers here have a different concept of space as we do in the U.S. We had a couple of hairpin turns in low gear before we arrived at the water camp. 

I finished reading a theology book because I found a spot in the shade where I could simply take some quiet. In the hot weather, one perspires without producing sweat, and it is important to hydrate, so I took some slow time just to finish a book I really liked. 

The people enjoyed it so much. They immediately ran down to the river, took off their sandals, and put their feet in the water. After some Sundanese coffee and a falafel snack, they were ready for bones or dancing. I joined in one game of bones that I scarcely remember from childhood. It was good just to play with the guys, who turned to cards after a while. Most were there to practice their English and to have fun.'

Some came over to talk in English, but they were too shy. They asked me to be gentle with them, but they got all over me when I mispronounced a word. They taught me how to form sounds in Arabic. I wish I had these instructions years ago. It is quite amazing to realize how extensive the Arabic world is, and where their centers of culture are located. There are different dialects for Yemeni, and people from Qatar, but their world centers around Arabic cities. One would have no problem moving between Pakistan, Baghdad, or Beirut because Arabic ties it all together. It is fascinating to realize that Amman is the fifth largest city in the Arab world, and so it becomes a center for commerce, culture, and vacations. A Francophone nation might want to visit Paris, many want to visit Germany, but the place many really would like to visit is Spain because it was once an Islamic nation. They don't know what city they want to visit or what they might want to see, but it was once part of their heritage while being European at the same time.

We talked a lot about hijabs and clothing and various Islamic customs and sayings. There are times when I want to greet someone as sister because she is wearing nun's clothing, but then I recognize that it is Islamic wear. The point is that the habits of sisters come from the attire of the middle east. The same with clerics and men's robes like cassocks. You will see a man walking down the road in a cassock and then realize he is not a priest. We are not all that different. Obviously, the Middle Ages adapted the clerical attire to be much more stratified, and now we are left with Medieval garments. 

We spent a lot of time talking, and laughing, and finally the woman got me to dance, and then the men danced. Fortunately, the lunch bell rang and I had a way out, but all throughout the afternoon when someone would see me, they would imitate a move I made, and they would start chuckling. Most of all, the people just wanted me as an American and as a priest to sit with them to talk. They did not care what we spoke about but they wanted to chance to use their newly acquired language while being seen and known by an American. 

I placed my feet in the water one more time and cooled down before the trek back to Amman. Since it was a Thursday, the traffic would be bad because it is like heavy Cape or Maine traffic on a Friday. Cars jockey for any position and they thereby make greater delays. Anyways, it was a lovely day, and we shared many laughs, many stories, and learned many lessons.

Celebrating What's Right With the World

Today was really a low-key day. I had no desire to go out or to do anything. I had a good night's sleep and said Mass for the local community, but then I tied up some loose ends for projects that are in process. I worked on this weekend's homily, put together the weekend Mass program, wrote the Prayers of the Faithful, and caught up on many correspondences. Other than that, I corrected a watercolor painting that is not too complex, but it is a greater challenge to make a subject look simple than it is to make it complex. As I look back on the day, I don't feel like I accomplished all that much, but I needed a lowkey day to plan the rest of my time in the city.

At lunch, we had lamb and cusa (rice and beef stuffed zucchini), pasta, grape leaves, rice, and chicken. I only had the cusa and grape leaves and a small piece of lamb. It was quite enjoyable.

After I caught up on correspondences, I noticed that it was already 5:00 p.m., the time in which the refugees would come for some enlightenment. Most of them are refugees from Yemen, Somalia, or the Sudan, and they are learning English and some life skills. We have conversations for an hour after watching a film clip. All in all, we spend two hours together.

I suggested that they watch the TEDx talk, "Celebrating what's Right with the World," as it is Ignatian Spirituality in layperson's words. Celebrating What's Right. I hope you like it. I think you will like it as much as they did. The premise is: Change your Lens, Change your world.

It shows that you are responsible for creating your worldview and that you can discover God in all things, if you simply reframe what you notice and sense. It shows how to achieve the magis, by not only getting a good shot with your lens, but getting a great shot. It helps us to discern - to see what is helpful to us and to leave behind what harms us or at least does not help us. It gives us choices in freedom. We can live in reality and see that there is far more good that happens in the world than bad, and we choose the side of Christ the Eternal King, who calls us to see as he sees and to live as he lives. He calls us into a program of life. The way we see the world determines how we act, see, and dream. We might have to actively seek God's presence in the world, and it is within our grasp. It allows us to believe the Resurrection is real, and that our world can be filled with beauty, wonder, and admiration, even when we know that violence, war, hatred, and destruction goes on. We hold onto hope. We trust in God and by doing so, despair vanishes. It helps us determine our passion and then to direct akk all our resources to our passions because God gave us those desires to achieve and enjoy. Celebrating what's right with the world allows us to live in joy and happiness and to be grateful for what exists around us. It achieves what the Spiritual Exercises is all about because we are to love and see the world the way God loves and sees the world, and when we do so, there's nothing else to do but to celebrate what's right with the world 

The Dabke Dance

For some reason, as night approached, I felt wide awake and fully rested. I went to bed at the regular time, and I could not sleep. The night was cool, there was little traffic noise to interrupt sleep, and the day was full. I had caffeine late in the day, and I received an email that was a mild inconvenience, but I think I was really caught up on my sleep. I had a full day of activities, taking notes for the sessions on Faith and Evolution, reading most of John O'Malley's books on the three Councils, sketching an Iraqi scene, and replying to emails. I read headline of people not being able to sleep in Europe because it was brutally hot and I lay in comfortable sleeping weather. I had no worries to keep me awake, and there I was at 3:00 a.m. with eyes wide open knowing that it would affect me the entire next day, especially for my 9:00 a.m. meeting.

I had a full day planned after Mass. I had a meeting with a Jordanian friend, and then went to look at the progress of renovations in four apartments. I needed sleep in order to feel fully engaged but that time had passed. I was able to watch some apartments in preparation stages for long-term rentals and Bed and Breakfast short-term rentals. 

What was fascinating was watching the Property Owner dealing with the workers. It is almost as if one has to stand over the worker to make sure the work is done correctly. Lots of short-cuts are taken and low quality work is done unless you are diligent and you make certain that the work is done to one's high standards. If you are kind and polite, the workers will take advantage of you. As many times as you tell someone what you are looking for, they do not seem to anticipate it the next time. The statements have to be repeated as if you are telling someone for the first time. Incremental learning does not seem to take hold among some workers.

The next apartments we visited, a kindly engineer was on site. He has middle-aged and gentle. Workers will take advantage of him because he is kind, so the owner stops by almost daily to make sure the small details are addressed. It is important for someone to be on-site to look after the progress. Now, it becomes more complicated if the owner is a woman because most men will not respect a woman's authority. She is often dismissed, treated with ridicule, and viewed as an object, mostly an object of derision. I see this in action many times in the Kingdom. I saw it first when we were preparing for a theatrical play years ago. The producer/writer/director of the play needed a man to join her when speaking with the theatre management because they would not treat her with any modicum of respect. It takes enormous reserves of courage and strength to operate in a world where men entertain such worldviews. It is a fascinating study. We in the U.S. cannot harshly judge a culture such as this because in many ways the West is just more subtle. 

I did a baptism at St. Joseph's church of an infant belonging to an expatriate mother and her Lebanese father. The ceremony was fun. The little girl loved the idea of playing in the water that would be blessed for her baptism. She was mostly soaked even before we began the ceremony. She high-fived me, loved holding the candles, relished the attention, and was quite joyful as many children often are. We took some nice photos afterwards and then the family went to dinner. I was invited to dinner but I did not know where it would be served so I declined. 

I took an Egyptian Jesuit out for a walk down Rainbow Street, which is the equivalent of Newbury Street in Boston, and we had dinner at a place called Wild Jordan that looked out at the Roman Citadel and the Temple of Heracles. The street on the busy end has a lot of shi-sha bars, a famous falafel kitchen, some religious bookstores because of the nearby high school, and some shawarma cafes. The other end of the street is filled with art galleries, expensive pottery and jewelry stores, and high-end restaurants. It is tree lined and a festive, but quiet place. 

Wild Jordan http://wildjordancenter.com/ is an environmentally and ecologically conscious center that provides tours to the conservation areas in the country. The cafe and restaurant are both quite good. I had a Green Detox drink made of kiwi, apple, celery, honey, spinach, and lime juice. Mmm. Quite tasty, and I had a Grilled Haloumi Cheese and Watermelon salad. Refreshing. 

When we finished the meal, we went back to church where we parked, and I introduced the Egyptian Jesuit to some Egyptian friends, and they talked for a while. The church operates a restaurant that has club status so only Christians can eat there as members. Coming out of the outdoor restaurant was the family with the baby I had just baptized. Ah, it was a fun rendezvous. We laughed. I didn't realize they were eating right there. I would have joined them.

The most moving part of the night though was the graduation of the Iraqi refugees from their educational year. Many of them received high marks and they donned their graduation caps and gowns. They were so happy, fresh, and young looking. From the lives of suffering, they are making something worthwhile in their start to life. Many will go onto European, Australian, or Canadian colleges. It broke my heart to see such happiness come out of their difficult entrance to life. And they were so happy.

The Egyptian Jesuit and I went into the outdoor gathering space to see the pastor and to say hi to some of the people who were relatives. The live music began to play and the Dabke dance broke out. I saw this dance performed several times over the years, most recently in Detroit, Michigan when I attended the Baghdad College Reunion. The Dabke dance is where people line up in a large circle and they hold hands and they move slightly to the right. They shake their shoulders, a quick lift of the leg, a twist of the neck, and they barely advance in motion, but it is something that they love. It looks quite simple but the shoulder rolls are quite complicated. I will post a video of it. 

Mostly, I like to see happy people. We have much suffering in our lives, but suffering does not have to define it. I like happy people. Life is much more enjoyable and pleasant, and it does not negate the seriousness of our suffering and sorrow, but we have to joy of the Gospel to keep us rooted in hope. 

To the Balad, the Downtown

Ah, I taught an Egyptian Jesuit how to cook some refrigerated meals. He liked the taste of the pastries I baked and he wanted to see how it was done. He realized that he can do it on his own if he needs to do so. He was having friends over and wanted to impress them with a tasty breakfast.

I took the morning to drive to an indoor-outdoor art gallery called Darat Al Funum. It is one of my special places in Amman because it is incredibly peaceful and with a lot of shade. Darat al Funum has a special meeting happening so I was not able to see the indoor exhibits, but I mostly go for the outdoor viewsThe atmosphere is serene and the outdoor seatings are cleared of dust every morning so it is inviting to sit and read or sit and pray. I did both. The location is at Jebel Amman, the oldest settled hill in the region and it overlooks the Balad, the downtown shopping district. One goes from the most quiet place to the busiest of places.

After leaving the gallery, I found the stairwell to Al Balad. From the top of the stairs, it seems like a fun adventure as there are old paintings of Picasso and Van Gogh that signify this is a place of culture. At the top of the stairwell, I saw four young men sitting outdoors having coffee. When I returned one and half hours later, they were still there talking up a storm.

There are cultural tour group meeting houses along this stairwell and there is a museum that I want to visit called "Museum of Old Signs." I saw the sign for it and noted it, and when I returned people told me it was a must see place. Along the stairwell there are barbers and bookstores, restaurants and tailor shops, and other neat places.

Once I stepped into the Balad, the pedestrian traffic almost takes you along with its energy. There are famous Shawarma kiosks and falafel drums. There is one falafel place that always has a long line to order food. I've eaten there a few times. There is also a kanafeh baker that draws long lines of dessert-goers. Children are weaned on these honey and pistachio topped cheese pies. They are quite tasty. I used to get a high caloric drink in the winter in the size of an espresso shot glass called Saleh. It is filled with cream, cinnamon and pistachio. Mmm. It is only served in the winter to warm you up, but I would imagine a little rum or vodka would give it a good punch. 

I was marveling at the changes in the Balad from eight years ago. Gone are the numerous DVD stores that mostly sold illegally copied movies. I could always watch American blockbusters before they were on screen in the U.S., but they are now replaced with decent shops. There are very many bookstores, which I appreciate, as the Jordanian culture historically has not been big on reading like the Iraqis, but there are so many nationalities living in Jordan that the retail is adapting. I passed through many chocolate stores, teas and spice shops, nut factories and elegantly wrapped sweets. I like going down alleyways and opening doors. I figure if there is a doorknob, it must be turned. If there is a button, it is there to be pressed. I have not qualms about trying an entrance because I often discover something exciting in the journey. As a tourist, you can often take risks that the average citizen would not do. I was impressed with the diversity of shops and the contents of some of the small shops seemed to be upgraded from the time I was here before. I will return this week to try a few more doorways and alleyways.

My steps led me to the Nymphaeum, the old Roman public baths. As there was no running water, the public would bathe in these places to be refreshed. In a place covered with dust and water resources scarce, a central gathering place like this served many public interest needs. The U.S. government has allocated some resources for rebuilding parts of this project, but I'm sure the archeology takes a lot of time. 

At the Nymphaeum, (what an intriguing word), if one looked up, you would see the Roman Citadel and the Columns of Heracles. I've been to outdoor concerts there and I saw the musical, The Sound of Music, with the columns illuminated and a cool breeze almost bringing the music to the heavens.

A few years from the Nymphaeum is the massive Roman Amphitheater. It is easy to tell that this is the downtown region for the Romans. It was the community gathering place built right into the side of the rock walls and overlooking a plateau where the sound carried easily. It was central part of the city. It is quite amazing that one can sit in the same seats where Roman citizens heard public lectures and caught up on news from the Empire. In a world of impermanence, these structures have endured for millenia.

Prayers and the Earth

The time in Jordan has been quite prayerful, but in a different way than I was expecting. I thought I would be praying more for people who are in need of prayers back home, and yes, I am doing that, but I feel like my prayer is somehow attached to the ground, to the soil, to the dust. I cannot articulate it yet. The sand and the earth are always nearby and one day it will claim all of our lives and so the matter of time feels much different here. Death is part of life, and we simply lives in happiness as best we can before the ancient aspect of the life cycle comes in due course. From dust we were created and to dust we shall return. 

Last year I did not have much time to grieve the losses in my life and I simply try to remember many of the good moments with deceased loved ones, but it is as if I'm not supposed to be grieving at this time, but to settle into the groundedness of the natural physical world around me. I wonder when I will grieve, or if I will. I'm dealing with the sadness of death so often and I believe in the Resurrection, and though I have moment of sadness, I'm not called to stay there. 

Maybe it is the magnitude of suffering in the world. I see precious stories in young people who are trying their best to be their best in studies, music, or whatever endeavor they are choosing. I like it when I see people trying to do better. I see precious stories in the way that women adopt children who are abandoned and in need and they accept the child as their own to give them the best shot in life. I see the hopes of parents and grandparents who are simply delighted that their children exist, especially when one of the children needs special care. I see people who try to make beauty in their little corner of the world, to have something of their own of which they can be proud. I see people who want to be seen or heard or known by another person, and their faces light up when someone acknowledges them or speaks to them.

Perhaps I'm too much of a dreamer, but I await the day when every individual has her or his moment, a moment of recognition, a moment of reversal, a moment of breakthrough when they know fundamentally how loved they are but another person, and that this love has the power to change the course of the world.I don't think it takes that much effort. It takes just deciding to accompany another person on the road just to be with the one you are with at the moment. We just accept where we are and who accompanies us.

--------

As it was our Christian Sabbath, it was a low key day. I decided to make Sunday dinner for the community and it was well received. We have some of Vivian's Quiche meat and vegetable pies, so I cooked them off for dinner and supper before they reached their expiration date. We had steak and mushroom, shepherd's pie, chicken pot, and vegetable pies. I also made some hor d'oeuvres of mini-cheese and min-asparagus quiches. We had some meat lasagne as warm overs and some chicken and potatoes. Emile prepared a salad and I heated up some rice and warmed up some bread. We finished our the chocolate cake with ice cream. Everyone seemed satisfied and we had nice conversations. We ate well, and I needed a walk. 

I've made the afternoon a time of study and writing so I can avoid the noonday heat. One problem is that I like to sleep. I must get to bed earlier but I feel wide awake from my walks. 

We had Mass for 18 people on Sunday night - a smaller group than most weeks, but Saturday was overflowing. The smaller group made it quite prayerful, and people seemed to like my homily. I spoke about the marvels of space and also the need for society to treat women better, more as equals. They seemed to really lean in when they heard those words. 

During the evening, I walked to Jebel Webdeih for some exercise. I cannot wait to get back home to get in a run in the morning once again. The village was packed. It was easy to spot the Americans, but somehow we do not speak. It is as if we want to blend in and be Arabic instead of American, but we do not hide our character well. I came home and did a little bit of sketching that I hope I can make into some watercolors. The first one will be basic because it is a simple monument in Baghdad. The others will be more intricate. If I do these well, maybe I'll do larger oil paintings for the Baghdad College community in Detroit and Chicago.  

Sleep is calling and it is going to win out.