Nationalism Disturbs Me: Baklava for Thought

Camels are in vogue here. In the past couple of months, I've spotted silhouettes of desert caravans on aprons, shirts, shawls, and towels. They are not as ubiquitous as Mickey. Yet.

I'm not sure what this means. You'll have to ask Hillary.

The first Ikebana program this year featured a talk by the wife of Palestine's ambassador to Japan (far left).  She's a strikingly beautiful woman with college-age children.  I'm not holding that against her.

She brought us baklava - which Greece might be surprised to hear is Palestine's national dessert - and hauled six dresses from her closet for a fashion show starring pre-selected audience members.  (No, not me.  I'm enjoying the sanctuary of the Ikebana board of directors this year.  Better to do the selecting than be a potential selectee, if you get my less-than-altruistic drift.)


It's official!  I am no longer the most eccentric Caucasian woman in Japan.

The dresses were colorful and decorated with intricate embroidery and cross-stitching.  Were you expecting a burqa?  Me, too.  Don't you just love the tinkling sound of stereotypes shattering?
 

Yuuko and Hiroko are also serving on the Ikebana International Kamakura Chapter board this year.

By my calculations the ambassador's wife has spent less than 15 of her 40-something years in Palestine. From the age of four she was raised and educated in Egypt and she spent the first five years of her marriage in the United States. The ambassador himself resided in Dallas, Texas for 18 years, six years longer than yours truly, until returning to Palestine in 1993 when the peace treaty was signed with Israel.

Do their children consider themselves Palestinians or Native Texans?  My personal experience of wrenching a trio of Native Texans from their birthplace at a young age tells me it probably depends on which kid you ask.