You might remember a previous post I wrote about baking cookies with my neighbors. Well, that was where it began.

It reminds me of that book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie because our relationship just keeps growing and growing.

If you give a (Kurdish) kid a cookie, she will want you to show her how you made them. When you are finished she will see all the dishes in the sink, she will wash them and probably end up cleaning the floors of the kitchen as well. She will keep mopping into the hall where she will notice the clean laundry in a pile. She will fold the laundry except for your cute new sweater, which she will try on. Seeing how good she looks in it, she will want to go home and show her family, she will bring you along. Once inside their home, you will surely be offered tea and cake. Seeing you have never had Kurdish cake, they can’t let you go until they have shown you how to make it…

Ok, so it didn’t all happen exactly like that, but almost! Now she comes over almost every day for help with her English homework and to help me with whatever I am working on (she is a great sous chef and actually likes to do the dishes!)

They invited us to a birthday party a few days ago. I got to help make the cake and then later we ate it all, and the custard and the torte… and this was all AFTER another party we had been to (many Kurds don’t keep track of when their kids are born so Jan 1 ends up being a popular birthday) Here is a pic of me with Bukan and her grandma.

The first 10 minutes shows their training to prepare to go to a ‘war zone’ but keep watching to see how different they found Kurdistan.

When I finally got to the door she had gone already, but she must have seen me out on the porch because a few minutes later the pounding began again. Thinking it was one of the kids, I snapped the curtain open with a look of frustration. I hope she didn’t see it, because she looked like the holiday angel. She was dressed in her best clothes and standing there with a tray full of food. They had been up since 4am preparing the holiday feast and she had brought over two servings for us so we wouldn’t miss out.

After we ate, it was still early and having been woken up so suddenly, we were still tired. We decided it wouldn’t kill the holiday if we went back to bed. Just as I was dozing off, the pounding began again. I made it to the door in time, “why are you sleeping?” she said “it’s the holiday!”

The next event had begun. All the men of the neighborhood were collecting in the street to go around the street, knock on doors, wish happy holiday and collect candy. We would have completely missed it if she hadn’t come knocking on our door. We didn’t get any pictures of this but Matt did make some new friends and come back with pockets full of candy.

We have found that no matter how many questions we ask or as much as we try to prepare for these things, we can never really predict what our involvement in the traditions of the day will be. Last holiday, I cleaned the house and got the bowl of candy ready, and we waited all day. This time, we would have slept right through all the action if it hadn’t been for our sweet old neighbor, it is nice to be cared about.

Here’s a picture I took of me and Shoocree Han a while ago. She has always been so sweet to us.

After a month of prayer and fasting, it is time to feast. Today began the three day holiday that will be filled with food, family and friends and something like trick-or-treating for grown ups. I have my bowl of candy ready.

This was our first time to experience Ramadan and it was eye opening. It was interesting to see how this holy month affected each person in the city. The people of this city cover the spectrum, from those who treasure the month as a time to abstain from food and seek God and draw near to him, to those who fast but only under social pressure and continue to let you know how miserable it is making them, to those who don’t even try, going on with life as it if it were any other month. Our staff photographer did an amazing project during this month and interviewed different people around the city, to see her photos and stories click here.

Another aspect of Ramadan that we witnessed was generosity. During this holy month, gifts count as double for the giver. We were brought more treats and food from our neighbors during this month than all the rest of our time here. And in the bazaar, shop owners were much quicker to give me the lower price or throw an extra bill into my change.

Now we celebrate the Jezhn, soon after we will be celebrating the end of summer. People will be coming out of their houses again. Days will not be so long and lifeless. There will be visiting again. Fall will be wonderful.

For a while now, we have been telling a good friend and neighbor that we really want to meet his family. Well two days ago I had my chance, and now I’m afraid to go back.

It was his mother who invited me in. From the gate she seemed like every other old kurdish woman, streams of blessings followed by wet kisses. But once inside her home, I discovered her passionately religious side. Before sitting me down for tea she took me around and showed me various photos of family and Muslim leaders. “Allah illaha, Allah illaha” she said over and over again waving one finger in the air for extra emphasis.

I tried to follow her words and a few times asked her to slow down but they flowed out of her mouth like a well rehearsed monologue. Something about Jesus, something about Muhammad… “allah, allah, allah.”  Finally her speech slowed and she repeated one phrase three times before I understood she wanted me to say the words. I did, not knowing what else to do and certainly not understanding the arabic I was trying to pronounce. After going back and forth a few times I realized I had said “the prayer.” In her eyes, I am now Muslim and if nothing else she believes see me again in paradise.

It was a whirlwind conversion. She brought me a colorful string of prayer beads and told me what to say for each one. When I asked her what it meant, she told me to ask her son and quickly went on. She showed me how to cover my head and how to bend and pray. She gave me my own muslim leader card to put up on my wall and finally she brought out an english copy of the koran and told me I could get one for myself in the bazaar.

I was, needless to say, a little overwhelmed. I sat there for a bit while she was still fluttering around between prayers, not really knowing what to do next. She wasn’t slowing down and conversation seemed impossible, so I excused myself and with many thanks and kind words, took up the little goodie bag she had made me and left.

I now understand a little bit more how “lost” people feel when confronted with religion. If you have ever had Jesus forced at you this way, I’m sorry. We want to be understood yet we don’t seek understanding. Go out, ask questions, LISTEN, and maybe make a new friend along the way.

And I am going to keep learning Kurdish so this doesn’t happen again, and so I can go back and have a real conversation with my neighbor.

Once I put them in the oven I started to clean up. She tried to stop me and went on and on about how we should make another batch for my husband and then one for her family. I was lacking butter and eggs (and energy) so I told her we could make more after I went to the supermarket. She thought she knew better and went on to pull out the little bit of sugar and flour I had and spoon through it trying to show me there was plenty. Finally after much convincing and a little tickling, she gave in. It is nice to have someone to talk to in Kurdish, but she sure wears me out!

She invited me into her house and I sat with her grandma for a bit. I was so happy to finally be inside one of my neighbor’s houses but also so discouraged in how little I actually understood and could correctly respond to. It showed me how much I need to be doing just that, but also how daunting it can is. It is hard to sit with someone, just wanting to know their story and learn from them, but not have the words to ask or the understanding when they respond. Pray for us that our language will continue to grow as our love for our neighbors does.

We have partnered up with Iraqi moms who are changing their own lives by making these candles. By sharing a candle with your own mom, you are supporting hardworking moms and at the same time helping children receive life-saving heart surgery. Read more about it here. But order soon! Mother’s Day is just around the corner!