Day 2 - Albert

Today we are spending a good bit of time getting to know one another. There are almost 100 people at the conference, from 23 different countries. We talk about our hopes for the conference, the questions we have, the things we desire to experience. It seems that many people are visiting the Holy Land for the first time, and that most are interested in getting to know local people as well as the other internationals attending the conference. I am excited to get to know people too.
One man, Albert, is from Switzerland. He is about the age of my father and you can just tell he is both extremely intelligent and incredibly kind. He told us that he has been involved in his small community in establishing public prayer vigils. Once a month he and others in the community come together in public and pray silently for one hour together. They began with about 5 people. Now there are between 40 and 50 people. He related that this time together has been transforming for him and for the community. They take just an hour each month to think of others in the world who are living in difficult situations. This has helped people in the group become more aware of how they are involved with each other, with their local community, and with the global community.
Albert has brought a green rock with him. As part of the conference we are going to make a mosaic comprised of rocks from our 23 different countries. It will be in the shape of an olive tree blowing in the wind. The olive tree has become somewhat of a national symbol for Palestinians. It is an incredible tree – a strong tree and one that produces shade, oil, food, and even soap. It is economically valuable and is lovely to behold.
Albert’s rock is extremely hard. We take hammers and chisels and break our rocks into tiny pieces so that we might join our efforts later on in the week to place the pieces on the mosaic. Albert is diligent with his rock and it is lovely as it reflects the sun light. I am excited to be part of a project that we will see develop. Most of the rocks are white or brown. Albert’s rock will eventually become the leaves of the olive tree.
After beating some of my own rocks (from Palestine), I stand up and take a look around. It is somewhat comical to see non-artisans attempting to use a hammer and chisel – these are instruments with which we are not familiar. Our hands are clumsy as we are used to the instruments of pencils, cell phones, and keyboards. It is a small miracle that no one is rushed to the hospital with a chisel injury.
With time and practice though, we are soon hitting our rocks in a more direct way, identifying the point at which we must connect hammer to rock to chisel. As the pieces fly apart we gather them so that we might put them together again. Twenty-three different countries, strong arms breaking strong stones apart, only to put them back together again into one mosaic. Art it seems is engaging that which is larger than the self.
Albert hands me the hammer and looks contentedly at the shattered green rock in his hand. I sit down to work again on my stone. We are strangers, Albert and me. Our rocks are different colors, different consistencies. From different homes, from different generations. But soon our rocks will sit side by side in one mosaic. One mosaic that represents something bigger and more beautiful than my rock, than Albert’s rock. We are strangers, Albert and me…