HOSPITALITY PALESTINIAN-STYLE
About an hour after I'd finished Umm Ahmed's copious lunch Suleiman knocked at my door. Wael had just arrived at his flat looking for me. This was the day Wael had invited me to eat with his family but as I hadn't seen him at the wedding because of the segregation of the sexes, and as neither knew the other's address, I assumed he had forgotten about it. I hadn't bargained for Arab hospitality. Knowing only that I lived in Al Makhfia he had checked out all the local grocery shops until he found someone who recognized my description. Having roughly pinpointed the area where I might be found and knowing that Suleiman lived in that area, his flat was the next port of call. Of course there could be no question of protesting that I had already eaten more than enough for one day and I was whisked off to Wael's flat in Rafidia where Yaroub and Samar and their families were seated around a gargantuan spread.
I sat beside Abdulla who had lived in Germany for some time before returning to Nablus to set up a delicatessen. After the start of the intifada he had had to close it because he was threatened by the shabab who didn't want him to sell imported goods. 'They are uneducated, these people. They couldn't tell the difference between goods from Israel and America and those from other countries.'
I'd been surprised by the amount of Israeli and American products I'd seen in shops. Why didn't the Palestinians boycott them, I asked. According to Abdulla, there was no alternative. The Palestinians couldn't be self-sufficient and Israel was able to prevent them importing from elsewhere as everything had to pass through Israel. I felt that he was painting the picture a little blacker than it actually was, given that the shops overflowed with goods from non-hostile countries such as Turkey, China and Indonesia.
Wael joined us with a slice of knafe for me. I begged to be excused, having forced down a bowl of soup and a plateful of prawns, stuffed courgettes and stuffed aubergines on top of Umm Ahmed's chicken. He cut the knafe in two. 'You eat half and I'll eat half,' he said, forking it into his mouth and asking me which church I belonged to.
'None.' I chose my words carefully as Muslims generally can't understand how anyone can have no religious affiliation. 'I'm a free thinker.'
I needn't have worried.
'That's what I like,' said Wael. 'Free thinking. I don't think people should be regimented by religion.'

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