The Process of Respect

The new look of the elevator waiting area..

I have heard it said that when an Arab befriends you, you have a friend for life.   I now have an Arab for a friend.  He is an Iraqi refugee and in the process of working on our lovely old church I have begun  to know him.  He is not strong on the English language and I definitely know no Arabic so our attempts to communicate are interesting.  I tend to speak too fast and his attempts are strongly accented.   When his children are around, one of them will often translate or he will phone them and ask the word he wants to say.  There is still much we have in common.  We share a love of music.  He was a professional keyboardist in Iraq and even though the arabic musical system is quarter tones he enjoys the sound of the piano and plays it beautifully.  He does not read music, he plays from the "heart" and it is sounds from his heart you hear when he plays.  He has four children that he loves very much and so do I.  He loves beauty and so do I.
Why do I speak of my Arab friend?   Because even without language I have learned so many things from him.   He is in this country which is so very different than his and I don't even know how welcome he feels here, but I can imagine that suspicion greets him often.  He is used to a very hot country and we have long and cold winters, but he says he likes the cold.   He is doing a job that is unrelated to the music he did and yet he does it with such love and care and attention to detail.   I do not see resentment, but gratefulness in his attitude as he works and  he goes the extra mile and beyond.  He always seems joyful and yet I have learned enough about him to know that not all is joyful in his life.
When I examine myself in the light of his ethic, I find myself lacking.   I find myself complaining and ungrateful for many things.   I also find myself challenged by my own attitudes towards the Arabic people and I wonder.   I wonder if I could be so brave as to leave the culture and the language that I know so well and make a life in another land, a land that is suspicious and sometime hostile towards me.   I wonder if I possibly could work as hard or as carefully as he does.   I wonder if I could care so much.
If you follow my blog at all you will soon learn that neatness and tidiness is not a natural gift for me and when I am working I tend to make messes and finally clean it all up when I am done.  I often come into the workroom at the church and find my messes cleaned up ( and sometimes stuff I was saving is thrown away, because I do keep things that look like trash to other people:)).  If I am doing something that he can do he will jump in and offer to do it for me.   It is humbling and consequently I do try to be neater and more orderly in my process.
  How does he deal with this culture where women do so much?  Or is he grateful for a culture where his daughters can thrive also.  I know he wants much for his daughters.   They do art with me and his 9 year old daughter says, " I live for art!"  I am honored to be trusted with them.
While I was working on the project that is pictured above this post, he and his son were cleaning the building.  This little room is the elevator waiting room and one time he brought garbage up and opened the door and hit my ladder.  "Sorry, sorry," he said.  After that he would call, " Hi, Cathy!" as the elevator passed by the place I was working.   It was getting late and the building is big and it makes noises that freak me out a bit.  I asked how long they were going to be there, because I wanted to leave when they did.   I tried to explain my nervousness.   He caught what I said and told me, " I not afraid in this building.   This is God's house , it safe here. You do not need to fear."    I do not know him well enough to know how he views God or if he even thinks the way I do at all, but in that moment I realized that he has a respect for sacred spaces and that the work that he does is a work of honor, from his heart, as is the music that he makes.    Yes, I learn a lot from my Arab friend.