The wrong kind of snow

It snowed overnight here in Beit Jala - so there is now about eight inches of snow on the ground. It was a very weird night weather-wise as, in addition to snow falling, there was thunder and lightning throughout the night, with hailstones falling at various points too. No-one is going anywhere – and that includes patients coming to the hospital. One of the Staff members here told me that no-one goes out in the snow as the roads are too dangerous due to the hills (which would be seriously treacherous if the snow were impacted), narrow roads and the fact that snow is so rare here that they are simply not geared up for it (tell the local transport gurus in the UK that! Here it is just snow, never mind the ‘wrong kind' of snow! J )

With ‘no-one going anywhere’, it means that the heroines and heroes of the hour at the hospital here are the Ancillary and Medical Staff who either slept here overnight or trudged through the snow to get to work. I’ve just trudged through the snow myself (all twenty-five yards of it) to get into the main building of the Hospital and the place is like a ghost town. Normally it is buzzing with patients, their families and friends, as well as members of Staff. Today there is a handful of people around – with the Emergency Staff in particular looking rather cheesed off. I guess today could be the day for catching up on notes and filing all round!

All of the children on the Ward where I have been working went home yesterday – ahead of the snow. A lot of them go home at the weekend anyway, but with the forecast saying snow was due off they all went a day early. The Therapy Team with which I am working are not in evidence today (and I can’t blame them, because I don’t drive anywhere in the snow either if I don’t have too) so I am using the time to read (and write this blog entry!)

What all of this makes me realise though, is just how lucky we are in the UK to have the machines to grit and clear the roads and a transport system that (usually) copes with heavy and inclement weather.

In addition, what many people around the world are lucky to have are Medical and Ancillary Staff working in hospitals and medical centres willing to try to get to their place of work – or even to stay overnight ahead of poor weather coming in, members of the Emergency Services who are willing to put their own lives at risk in order to be able to assist those who are trapped or injured by virtue of accident or life-threatening conditions that need expert medical assistance, Local Authority Highways Teams who go out to grit and clear the roads (usually at incredibly anti-social hours)… not to mention Teachers who make it into Schools to teach, Priests and Ministers who open Churches for people to pray, Volunteers who run and assist with overnight Emergency Shelters, Social Workers who get to the Homes in which there are children who need their care, Care Assistants who travel to either to Care Homes or people's own homes to offer medical and social care, and the members of the Media who get to their offices in order to run the twenty-four hours services on Radio and Television that we have become so used to. I should also mention Supermarket and Shop Staff who we 'expect' to be there, Bank Workers, Office Workers.. and the list goes on. Many people do not have a choice and, even if they do have a small 'get out clause' of the wrong kind of {snow}, [leaves on the line], [ice] (take your pick), someone, somewhere will complain that there was no-one there to answer the phone, sell them milk, give them money.... etc. etc.

When it has snowed heavily in the UK, people have say to me, ‘Just cancel the Service, no one will mind.’ To which my reply is always, “The Service is advertised, someone may come and it is important that the Service takes place – even if no-one comes.” Do you know, someone has always come to every Service that has taken place when there has been snow outside!

And so, with lightning and thunder rolling around outside, and hailstones beating my window, I sign off… praying for rain and sunshine so that the lives of the people here in the Hospital, the local town of Beit Jala, the City of Bethlehem – as well as other surrounding areas – might be made slightly easier as the day goes on.

Back to basics in Beit Jala

I used to be a Teacher – for both Primary and Middle School age ranges at various points. I was a Music Co-ordinator in one and a Special Needs Teacher in the other. I loved teaching – enjoying the joy and exuberance of musical performances, the delight on the faces of children when they finally ‘got it’ after struggling for a while (and then watching them explain it to someone else!), or finding new ways of assisting a child to ‘work around’  situation swhen they were being harassed or harried by others.

Had I not been recommended for training for Ordination, I think my path would have gone towards becoming an Educational Psychologist, a Specific Learning Needs Teacher or a Psychotherapist. Something of this call to walk alongside others is borne out in Ministry, and it was something that I expressed at one of the earliest sessions we had at Theological College. “What is your strapline?” we were asked. “How would you sum up your call?” For me it was hard to express and always has been – but it has something to do with being the one who accompanies others along life’s rich and delightful and challenging way. It is about being the one who is alongside (even if the person doesn’t know it), the one who witnesses and who watches, the one who is willing to give time and to say (often without words), “You are worth me giving you this time and this space and this energy that is mine”. To be able to do this is a rare privilege.

Thus it is that I felt called to be here at Beit Jala. In the four small rooms that offer sanctuary to children in need – as well as their family and friends – the children have a bed to sleep on whilst the parents (usually the mother, but not always) each have a mattress that, each night, is put on the floor having been propped up against the wall during the day. Long days with their children who are from all over the Palestinian Territories, with all sorts of needs – some able to communicate but all, some mobile but not all, some able to go home at weekends but not all. Part of why I am here is to say in some small way that someone can be bothered. You are worth bothering with and your children are worth bothering with. For this very short period of time I am happy to come and play with them, to work with them, to teach them and let them laugh at me when I don’t know the Arabic for chair or water or hello. This evening, long after I ‘finished’ for the day and have been on google translate and other websites that will translate Arabic into roman lettering so that I can have a stab at pronouncing some words, I have been on the Ward to play games with one of the children – which actually turned into four of the children. The mothers looked on, glad of a bit of respite, and I am happy to be with these children who have little idea of what I am saying when I say, “Now it is my turn!” but who are delightful to watch when they copy my actions for ‘thinking and looking’ when we are playing memory games.

The children won’t have any idea of why I am here – I imagine they will simply be glad someone is willing to play with them. The Play and Drama Therapist I am working with noted that one child who usually throws things around actually ‘worked’ relatively calmly with me this afternoon (this was only once I had worked out that we simply needed to play and be rather than ‘learning’ in any formal sense. The wise ones amongst you will know that playing is very important too!)

So for this couple of weeks, here I am, with these children and these parents and these staff members in this place where good work is being done and somehow I hope they will intuit the ‘message’ that someone (in this instance me) is here to accompany them along life’s rich and delightful and challenging way. Someone is here to be alongside, witnessing and watching, willing to give time and to say (without words), “You are worth me giving you this time and this space and this energy that is mine”. To serve you in this way is rare privilege.