October 28

If I haven't written much in the last week and a half (and I have written nothing), it is because there is not much to say. I am developing a routine and trying to bring my body and my life to beat in some sort of harmony with my surroundings; I have a heap of trouble getting to sleep most nights, but I think this is not so much jet lag as a complete lack of physical exertion. Office jobs are really not good on the body...but I like my work as a pilgrimage scheduler. I see some peculiar extremes like those who thank our department with the most flowery and extensive language I can possibly imagine (though they lavish the greatest praise, and chocolates, on their pilgrim guides...but sometimes the guides share their chocolates with us) and those who seem to write every five minutes to request confirmation that we received or processed this or that...all of these exist because pilgrimage is just so important to so many people.

I want to spend my days reading voraciously but there is no time; a typical evening with nothing really special to do (so far) includes tying up a loose end and/or doing personal things while I'm still in my office, walking to the Shrine of the Bab on my way home, spending more time in the Shrine than I anticipated, walking down a series of steps that goes on forever and ever, preparing something for dinner, talking to my roommates a bit, and (frequently) finding that the evening has slipped away or (occasionally) finding that I am too tired to concentrate on reading anything that requires more concentration than a few news articles. I have spent one or two nearly whole days holed up in either my flat or the Haifa Pilgrim house just reading and reading Baha'i books, trying to catch up on what I'd been longing to do all week. I hope I can find more of a balance.

Yesterday one of my flatmates returned to Thunder Bay. I really enjoyed her, but her leaving is not all a bad thing; I have already fully taken over her former bedroom. It has four big windows and a massive balcony with chairs and a table that overlooks the German colony, downtown, and Haifa port. I absolutely love it and don't mind that my options for getting to work are taking the bus or climbing half of Mt. Carmel.

This weekend I think I am going to Akka for the first time in a couple of weeks; I plan to go to the Shrine at Bahji and see for the first time both the Bahji pilgrim house and the Mansion of Bahji. Last weekend I visited the House of Abdu'l Baha, which was so nice though I don't know how to describe it...in many ways it was just an old house, but it reflects quite a bit of Baha'i history and has some interesting artworks and photographs and artifacts. It was peculiar to see Abdu'l Baha's bed and notice how short he must have been to sleep in it comfortably, and the brightness and coziness of the place in combination with its dramatic design (a very large central room with many small rooms all around it) was really very special. On that visit I saw the Western pilgrim house, too, which was also quite nice...it is really amazing and almost overwhelming how ornamental Persian culture is. Sometimes I walk into a room and feel like a pattern bomb must have exploded recently.

On the same day I visited Abdu'l Baha's house I visited the archives building, which recently underwent major renovation, and which I'm limited to visiting once a year. It was like walking into a refrigerator because it was so cold and dark, but everything to see was lit up as needed. I loved seeing the original texts of some of the writings. They are so beautiful; even Persian script is ornamental, and many of the texts were illuminated in a way that reminded me of medieval Bibles.

I'm getting more used to my job every day; overall time is flying by...naturally, as no bills to pay, and really not much to worry about but my work and my personal development. I am very excited to have found three opportunities for oral and written translation already. I am now co-translating from English to Spanish with the Chilean girl in my office, and translating from French to English when I can. The library is sending me photocopies of newspaper clippings in Spanish for me to translate key parts and the gist of articles.

I am also looking into doing simultaneous interpretation translating pilgrim talks occasionally...though I am not sure I'll do this because many of the presenters have very, very strong accents. I attended one last night and I could not understand every tenth to twentieth word or so...a good third of the time I didn't even know what she was talking about. My flatmate, Aram, does Persian translations at talks, and she told me that sometimes she had to just stop and could not even guess at what the presenter was saying...meanwhile, the Italian translator, Danilo, was just talking and talking nonstop. Aram felt inferior until she talked later to Danilo, who commented..."I think I just invented a new Baha'i perspective or two as I was translating...maybe when I get home I'll reveal a tablet."

intermission

I interrupt this transmission to bring you some photos! I tried to add captions, but I had a lot of difficulty with figuring out where to put them, so for now they will have to remain captionless. I promise I will make a complete photo album with neatly coordinating captions when I finally get around to taking my own pictures...and not merely nabbing them from someone else's collection on Facebook (Thanks, Miss Inka!). By the way, I was with the person who took these pictures the whole time she was shooting, so they do in fact reflect my personal experiences. I even had my camera with me at the time, but I was too engrossed in memorizing the exact locations of popular baklava (see below) and falafel shops to remember to pull it out....

October 17

Naturally the day I choose to climb every one of the terraces of the Shrine of the Bab (yes, all 19 of them...including the ones that ascend behind the shrine and are lit to frame it in the dark. It's hard to find a good shot of them, but there are 9 terraces leading to the shrine, and just as many behind!), at midday, is the same day that Haifa chooses to violate its friendly and reliable (if boring) weather pattern of 85 and sunny every single day. Today's high was 97 Fahrenheit. Good lord. And I forgot my water (but a fellow trekker was kind enough to give me some). No wonder I dripped sweat; it is fortunate I did not shrivel up like a raisin. I will never ever again forget to bring along my water.

If you are wondering what motivated this arduous expedition...there is a really good sushi bar on top of the mountain...my friends and I threw in a little bit of gelato, too, basically in celebration of surviving.

October 16

I took it easy this week compared to the last one, and I'm glad I did. I've been really restrained on getting involved in things, which in my mind is all for the best. Volunteering, in a number of departments, requires a sustained commitment, and thus far I really have very little idea of how to budget my time. Besides, I am sure have not even heard of certain departments that I would love to volunteer in, and I don't have a concept of which departments are the neediest (and there are many needy departments).

I am thinking of volunteering in the Pilgrim Reception Center, so I can actually meet some of the people I correspond with daily in e-mails and letters. That should be easy to work into my schedule; the staff at the PRC work late into the evening, so I'm sure could just come down there after work one night a week and help out a bit. It's not a massive commitment since I would only be called upon to help when the pilgrims are actually here: 18 days a month, 10 months a year. Another department I am looking into is the library, which has seen a massive dwindling in its workforce in a very short time.

Anyway, my week was relatively uneventful; my trainer was sick for about half the week which dealt my training program a blow, but I don't think she successfully infected me before she decided she was better off resting at home, not infecting all of us. Last night I attended the Thursday night study class for the first time since I arrived, because its instructor, House member Mr. Hooper Dunbar, came back from Germany. He's a cute old man and a funny guy. The purpose of the study class is really lovely: it's meant to inspire young people to read and to really advance their comprehension of the Baha'i writings. We covered maybe five paragraphs of the foreword of one book - the name study class is a bit misleading I suppose, since there is no expectation that we study before arriving. We used those five paragraphs as a sort of primer for looking at the rest of the book - we looked in depth at the density of the language and the big picture the words were laying out. It was also a great opportunity to see people I hadn't seen much since orientation.

I don't know if I will become a regular at the Thursday study class, or anything I've mentioned, but I am definitely looking forward to the Tuesday study class, which is very different - e.g., preparatory readings are expected and whole texts are covered.

All this must sound quite heady, so here are some non-heady things I expect I will incorporate into my routine: shopping in the Hadar and Wadi (two areas of town that are great for shopping; the Hadar is more geared toward clothes, housewares, art supplies, etc., and the Wadi is better for fresh ingredients like spices, coffee, meat and fish, and produce), visiting a great, cheap falafel shop near my home, and going to Japanika, a sushi bar that is fashionable but really affordable by American standards, in the Carmel Center on top of Mount Carmel (mistakenly called the Merkaz by many BWC staff; this is Hebrew for "center").

Another big part of staff activity is visiting other cities in Israel on days off; usually these are day trips because Israel is tiny. The situation in Jerusalem is iffy but I am itching to go there; however I plan to wait until the security department endorses it, because they are very careful about monitoring the security situation. I don't want to go anytime soon anyway because I want to go with a reasonably good understanding of the significance of the religious sites in Jerusalem. That might take a while.

P.S. I am amending this entry because the events of the end of the day were surprising but very nice; I ended up attending a pilgrim talk which occur on four nights of the nine day pilgrimages. The speaker was a house member, Dr. Payman Mohajer, who delighted me to an extent I can't adequately express without a load of context by saying that there is a tendency in the Baha'i faith for members to be "political idiots" and going on to provide recommendations to rectify this (huge, huge) problem. That issue will merit an entry of its own. (I think perhaps I ought to start keeping a list of all the things I have promised that I will address later.)

The person who guided me to the pilgrim talk is the wife of one of the members of the International Teaching Center; while I was put off at first by her tendency to not let me finish sentences, I warmed up to her when she gave me all kinds of advice to regard to navigating the BWC and Haifa, gave me a ride home, and very thoughtfully advised me to haul two packs of water back home as long as someone was driving me down the mountain.

I especially warmed up to her when she said she was lonely and didn't have many friends in spite of being in Haifa for more than a year; her husband travels often, her son is grown up, and the whole move was a shock to her after living in a suburb of St. Paul for 32 years, so I don't think she was eager to regard the move as so much of an adventure as a trial. I plan to talk to some people in my office and/or my orientation group to organize a dinner and make sure she is able to come; I don't know if it would be insensitive to explain that the purpose is that she is lonely, but I want to see to it as best I can that a few more people reach out to her.

Otherwise, I spent the day reading at home and in the reading room in the Haifa pilgrim house (as I have said it is one of my favorite places), and in between those things going to the shrine of the Bab. I read some of the Tablets of Baha'u'llah and a short book called a Tribute to Ruhiyyih Khanum (suffice it to say she's a very important woman to Baha'is). Both of them raised a lot of questions in my mind. Some things had a special emotional resonance with me because I am in the place firmly connected to both of the things I read today. For example one of the Tablets of Baha'u'llah is the Tablet of Carmel, which addresses Mt. Carmel directly, and the tribute to Ruhiyyih Khanum mentioned events in the pilgrim house where I was reading about them. Today I thought a bit about the notion that you have to travel to a place to really know it. I modestly propose that maybe (maybe) this is not necessarily because the physical reality of a place has special meaning in itself, but because humans simply derive inspiration and motivation to learn about more abstract realities (which, logistically, humans could do without leaving home) by connecting with what is material. Or it could be a far less complicated matter of ego: i.e., Haifa and its history have more meaning to me now that I'M a little part of Haifa's history.

October 11

Today at work I finally met the coordinator in my office, whose name is also Melissa. This has struck fear in the hearts of some of my colleagues, who cannot bear the idea of working in an office in which two-sevenths of the workers have the same name. About half of them agree that the other Melissa should be known as Miss Melissa, which is currently a habit of only two people in the office, who are from where else but the south. The other half think the other Melissa should remain Melissa, and I should be Melissa K, which I vehemently oppose. By the time anyone has said "Melissa" we have both turned around (it doesn't help that our desks are next to each other). And why should I be the one to get the modifier? You may as well call me Secondary, Unimportant Melissa. It would be less confusing. By the time you've said "Secondary, Unimportant", no need to bother saying "Melissa": you've said it all.

Anyway, I am going to try to promote the calling of the other Melissa Miss Melissa, which I think is quite respectful because she is old enough and experienced enough to deserve a title; besides, I really like the sound.

I had a lovely day, involving: my first office meeting which was over my head; a wonderful excursion (my first) to the newly re-opened Shrine of the Bab, which was not much diminished by the fact that it's estimated to remain covered in scaffolding for the next three years; a trip after work in search of art supplies (the shop was not open, but it became a nice evening to eat shawarma and talk with friends), and now some helpful reflection on an article that discusses "the disease of language".

The gist of the latter is that the way language is used changes over time - this is a given, but what implications does this idea have for religion? It's hard for me to think of an example, but it follows logically to me that this goes a long way towards explaining why it is a belief in the Baha'i Faith that the Baha'i Faith itself will eventually need to be replaced. People interpret the words of the past according to their understanding of the meanings of the same words in the present. This is a clear and present obstacle to translating probably my number one anticipated Baha'i writing into English: the Lawh-i-Tibb, the Tablet of Medicine. Many of the words it uses are very specific to the historical and cultural context in which the tablet was created.

I can only imagine the subtleties of language in other Baha'i texts that even the finest translators cannot fully relay or even grasp. I am removed from the writings in many ways: historically, culturally, um...original-language-ally, etc. But I know that to minimize their inevitable deficiencies, lots and lots of time and care and forbearance have been incorporated into the translations of the writings.

October 9

This week was my first full week in the office. It was busy; even so, I haven't been neglecting to write so much for lack of time as for need for digestion of all the new things that happen to me every day. Otherwise this blog could descend into (more of) a jumbled play-by-play account of all facts and no context.

On Monday and Friday I went back to Bahji; I doubt I will visit it twice a week habitually, but it's so nice to be able to go any night of the week I want. Besides, the first pilgrims of the season come on Monday, and when they do the shrines will be packed and it's my responsibility to give preference to them. Speaking of the pilgrims, being that my office is part of the department of pilgrimage, I attended a meeting on Tuesday with the rest of my department (the pilgrim reception centre staff and the pilgrim guides) as well as the department of holy places, to prepare for the beginning of the new pilgrimage season (and have some delicious food).

Peculiarly, I learned at work that the originally designated sites for pilgrimage in the Baha'i faith either are inaccessible at the moment due to disputed ownership or have been razed (with exact specifications to be rebuilt in the future...it's sad because it will never be the same, but then again, what historical building that's old enough hasn't had to be renovated to the point of becoming an eventual replica?). They are in Iran and Iraq, far from Haifa and Akka. But the Shrine at Bahji was designated a sort of pilgrimage site as well, though not by the prophet-founder of the faith, but nevertheless an important figure, and without the rites that accompany a visit to the originally designated sites of pilgrimage.

So, without a series of explicit rules to govern visitation to the Haifa and Akka sites, the process of Baha'i "pilgrimage" to Israel is recognized as a sort of substitute, but very special nonetheless, because it is simply the best we can do, because those living in countries with very bad relations with Israel cannot make even this sort of pilgrimage, and, more optimistically, because no other place in the world contains such a high concentration of Baha'i holy places. As a sort of stand-in, and coupled with the political realities and international relations of this country, Baha'i pilgrimage has evolved over the years and the rules are quite complex (as a pilgrimage scheduler I am learning them all, and it is going to take me a LONG time). For now it is fixed as a nine-day experience, partly I believe to keep the volume of people at a manageable level, and also because the number nine is significant in the Baha'i faith (let's not go into why; there are a lot of reasons). Fortunately, all this hasn't really put a damper on my enthusiasm for the pilgrims' arrival.

Another source of enthusiasm sprang up when at work I received a postal letter written in French and my translator asked me to translate it orally on the fly, to get a sense of how well I did. She was pleased that I could read it so it sounds like I will become an in-department French-English written correspondence translator. I think I will refuse to speak on the phone in French, however. My oral proficiency is really way too far behind.

One night this week I met with my orientation group and a pair of "facilitators" who are helping us navigate a program called "Serving the Divine Plan", which is a way to keep us connected with what is happening in the Baha'i faith in countries other than Israel, where it is not practiced outside of the World Center. In this program we meet about once a month with a member of the Universal House of Justice (the highest administrative body). Our facilitators gave us some information on the program, but moreover their purpose in hosting us was to cook for us and get to know us. It was a lovely evening.

Late in the week I went on a walk through Haifa, on which I learned the best places to find baklava, falafel, and watch batteries. I was told that one of the streets very near where I live was once called Baha'u'llah Street, named for the founder of the Baha'i faith, until the Baha'is objected. It was renamed Iran Street, and it intersects with Persian Street, also named for the Baha'is. So that is how Iran has been honored (sort of) in two street names in Israel. Anyway, on my walking tour I was exposed to fruit and vegetable and meat and spice shops, and to the Carmelit subway (some Carmelit stations do not so much resemble a platform as a staircase). And I learned that the German colony for which I've seen so many signs (which seemed like a very unusual thing to find in Israel, but not when one considers that, like most things, it predates the Holocaust) is all around my house. I've got to find some more information on it to share.

So it was, all in all, a good week.

Many exciting things are coming: the pilgrims on Monday, of course, as well as the re-opening on Sunday of the Shrine of the Bab, which is visible from my house, but has been closed since I arrived for renovation (which is estimated to continue for the next two or three years). Also, all volunteers are awaiting a message confirming that the International Archives building will be reopened after its renovation, recently completed, for us to see. To limit volume and thus hopefully to limit damage, staff have to sign up to visit the building. Personally I think staff who have never seen the archives ever should have first dibs, but I don't think that's how it will work. All the same, there are many sites in Akka that I have to sign up to see too. It will probably be months before I see everything there is to see here.

October 4

Thanks to resting well this weekend, I came into the office today feeling much fresher and more positive than I was on Thursday; by the end of the day I was doing some mail processing independent of observation, and it was exciting to take a few steps on my own. In the evening I figured out how to do my laundry - it's wonderful, no coins, no personal laundry detergent - everything I need is there.

Also, on the bus, I got to know my flatmate who will be around the longest a little better, and we've come to an agreement to swap art lessons for Persian lessons. Before I arrived I wanted so much to have an opportunity to learn Persian while I am living in Israel, and it turns out my roommate is the instructor for the Persian class! She also works at the Iran Desk, which deals with communications regarding the Baha'is in Iran, who are intensely persecuted (though not often killed; I don't think there is even very much violence, but many horrible things are said about the Baha'is even in publications like textbooks, and Iranian Baha'is are not allowed to have religious meetings or to go to college). She has already talked to me a bit about her work and the knowledge it exposes her to; she grew up in Iran so stories about her childhood will be fascinating to hear. I think we'll be great friends.

October 3

My day, in spite of starting on a very wrong foot, ended up being quite all right and I accomplished a lot of things, even if they more of them were domestic pursuits than I'd anticipated. The plan was to go to the beach with friends, but as I learned, one can only go to the beach with friends when one can contact friends first, and one can only contact friends when one or anyone one can find or manage to call knows how to work the system of landline telephones. I actually ended up walking to my friend's apartment, which was a great deal further away than I thought, but she wasn't home.

In any case, I walked through Haifa under the mid-morning October sun, which was really intense. I was dripping sweat by the time I got back, and I didn't walk up or down the mountain. I saw some things I wasn't aware of before, like an Italian hospital. Haifa, on top of being a much more ancient city than I realized (apparently it was a major dye making center in the third century), is a much more international city than I realized. There is an Italian hospital, neighborhood called French Carmel, German colony, large population of Arabs, sizable population of Russians, Japanese art museum, and of course the Baha'is who come from everywhere - but I'd estimate that about half of us are American.

After I cleaned my flat and better organized my things, and did a little bit of trip planning for when I get the opportunity to take a weekend or day trip, I did some reading. The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana by Umberto Eco is probably the most discombobulated book I've ever read, but it's somehow enjoyable even though it's incredibly hard to follow. I don't think the point is to follow it 100%.

Then I was reading from the tome I bought the other day and came to a passage that really made me stop in my tracks, so I thought I'd share:

"...In the first place every believer is free to follow the dictates of his own conscience as regards the manner in which to spend his own money. Secondly, we must always bear in mind that there are so few Baha'is the world, relative to the world's population, and so many people in need, that even if all of us gave all we had, it would not alleviate more than an infinitesimal amount of suffering. This does not mean we must not help the needy, we should; but our contributions to the Faith are the surest way of lifting once and for all time the burden of hunger and misery from mankind, for it is only through the System of Baha'u'llah--Divine in origin--that the world can be gotten on its feet, and want, fear, hunger, war, etc., be eliminated.
Non-Baha'is cannot contribute to our work or do it for us; so really our first obligation is to support our own teaching work, as this will lead to the healing of the nations."*

This seems to contrast considerably with the previous words of another figure in the faith, actually, with a higher spiritual status in the Baha'i faith:

"When asked on one occasion: “What is a Bahá’í?” ‘Abdu’l-Bahá replied: “To be a Bahá’í simply means to love all the world; to love humanity and try to serve it; to work for universal peace and universal brotherhood.” On another occasion He defined a Bahá’í as “one endowed with all the perfections of man in activity.” In one of His London talks He said that a man may be a Bahá’í even if He has never heard the name of Bahá’u’lláh. He added:—

The man who lives the life according to the teachings of Bahá’u’lláh is already a Bahá’í. On the other hand, a man may call himself a Bahá’í for fifty years, and if he does not live the life he is not a Bahá’í. An ugly man may call himself handsome, but he deceives no one, and a black man may call himself white, yet he deceives no one, not even himself."**

Did the letter written on Shoghi Effendi's behalf then only apply to the very earliest stages of the Baha'i faith? Is he really encouraging Baha'is to neglect practical ways of serving humanity for spiritual ones, when I've always understood the Baha'i faith to emphasize a balance of the development of spirituality and of humanity collectively? And isn't that...zealotry?

The first quotation is even more bewildering when contrasted with some of Shoghi Effendi's own statements (which predate the first quotation):

"Not all of us are capable of serving in the same way, but the one way every Baha'i can spread the Faith is by example. This moves the hearts of people far more deeply than words ever can.

The love we show to others, the hospitality and understanding, the willingness to help them, these are the very best advertisements of the Faith."***

I'm having a crisis now. I'm going to have to think about this one.

*From a letter dated 8 December 1947 written on behalf of Shoghi Effendi to an individual believer
**J.E. Esslemont, Baha'u'llah and the New Era
***From a letter dated 14 October 1943 written on behalf of Shoghi Effendi to an individual believer

October 2

For visual people out there, someone made a really lovely website filled with pictures of the Baha'i world center, many of them high resolution.

Today I did basic health training and CPR and First Aid. I learned about the two hospitals the BWC has its staff to go as needed; one of them, as I somehow ended up reading on Wikipedia today, Rambam, moved whole wings underground during the war with Lebanon in 2006. Emergency preparedness is, conceivably, a matter of lifestyle here. All Israelis are trained and retrained in CPR and emergency management starting from a very young age (hence I suppose why we did a short course without the goal of certification...I suppose it's expected that since we are generally young, healthy, invested in each other, and devoted to serving other people and each other, a short course is enough, at least until an Israeli arrives on the scene!).

Later, I went straight back home and slept all afternoon. I was so tired during health training, all I could think about was getting more sleep. The jet lag is finally fading away, but the effects of sleeping erratically all week are catching up with me. I think I am going to the beach tomorrow :D and I have high hopes that some time relaxing in the sun will fix everything, and I'll be fresh and happy for next week.

October 1

I am exhausted. It's been a long week. My second day of training was rougher than my first. I can only sit and listen for so many hours at a time. My trainer wanted to keep things as simple as possible and so she did not often let me drive. I don't think that's any way to learn to do tasks, and I told her so but she told me there was nothing she could really do about it. It seems that a lot of tasks I have are very integrated with one another, so her approach does make some sense to me, but...she has a background as an elementary school teacher, and it really shows. Her efforts are sincere and she is very kind, but to learn to do my job well I really need to be taught according to methods that have not been developed for ages six to eight exclusively.

I just went home to rest a little bit after work; there is a Thursday night study class that is quite popular, and I considered going, but (a) I was exhausted and (b) the main teacher, Hooper Dunbar, known respectfully as Mr. Dunbar (as he is a Universal House of Justice member), is away so an ITC member put the course on pause and served as a guest speaker. Another week I suppose.

Tomorrow I have health orientation and finish at noon, so I think I'll go in a group or solo to discover the city. The first few days I was here I was nervous to leave the center; this was reinforced by the fact that I don't have to. Everything I could possibly need to live while I am serving here lies within the gates. Speaking of which, I went to the food centre for the first time today, which is like a medium sized in-house grocery store, and I was amazed by the variety of healthy, not so healthy but delicious, international, and reminiscent of home products that were available. I expressed my amazement over lunch to the amusement of my companions. I probably sounded like I was from the USSR. Everything here is so much bigger and better than I could have imagined.

Anyway, the few Israelis I've met have taught me that if I left without getting to know a few, I would have sorely missed out; they are wonderful. They are more inquisitive than I'm completely comfortable with, but they are incredibly warm. I crossed paths with a man on the street who said to me, hello, are you from the Baha'i World Center? I said yes, and he said, are you American? I said yes, I was. (I don't quite know how these things are stamped on my appearance). He said welcome (I guess it was also stamped on me that I was new), I asked for directions (at which point it was obvious I was new), he gave them gladly, and said welcome to me again before I left. It seems that Israelis tend to like Americans (for reasons that are obvious), visitors (for reasons that can be inferred), and Baha'is (for reasons I don't know, yet).