I got back from filming at 4pm which dovetailed neatly with the Lozenge's requirement of an assistant engineer for his new Lego helicopter. We never had the right pieces as Rashimi flew about hiding them from the lofty heights of his broomstick (the plunger to unblock the sink). And I realised that making short films in the West Bank and making Lego helicopters with not quite enough pieces and no instructions involve the same kind of technique, and a calm head - even if you're just pretending. Then St Grace's Methodist pastor from Sri Lanka came over for tea as he toured the Holy Land with his wife. After a huge slice of carrot cake, the spritely little man with wide brown eyes like a nocturnal animal, leapt from his seat and insisted on praying for us all in the kitchen. 'Oh LORD! We thank you for this your daughter into whose house we have been warmly welcomed, and her sons, they are your sons Lord! And her beautiful husband. Oh LORD we thank you for this warm welcome and this...' The Lozenge screeched into the kitchen into the middle of the Sri Lankan prayer circle shouting, 'Mummy I need a poo poo!'
The pastor continued as though nothing had happened: 'Lord, Yes Lord! For this wonderful house of wonderful people and we thank you for Grace, Lord,' 'Yes, Lord!' agreed his wife,'We thank you for your daughter Grace and that she has found this wonderful family Lord,' ('MUMMMMEEEEE, I've finiiiiiished,') 'Lord, we thank you for this wonderful cake and all the other food we've been given, and Lord, oh Lord, for these beautiful children. ('IVE FINIISHED MUMMMMMMEEEEEE') 'Yes Lord! You are King of love Lord!' (MUUMMMMMMMEEEEEE. I'VE FINIIIIIIIIIIIIISHED!') And so it continued with the pastor and the Lozenge competing ever louder for airwaves until St Grace ran out of the room chortling loudly to wipe the Lozenge's bottom. The prayer continued for at least another 10 minutes, by witch stage it was time for more pagan pursuits.
Halloween isn't acknowledged at the Lozenge's school since it's a pagan festival and the school is very Christian, which is why as Rashimi - not currently at the school - can be found rushing about cackling like a witch on the plunger broomstick, while the Lozenge fashions a ''thpathe wocket' from a cereal box humming: 'We will make you fishers of men' under his breath. Luckily one of the Consulates came up with a good old fashioned Halloween party complete with piñata smacking and excess sugar, with an adult version later on majoring on more liquid refreshments. The Lozenge was a 'Skellington' and Rashimi a very over excited 'gohtht' having been persuaded to leave the broomstick plunger behind. (They don't make them like that any more, particularly not in China). J and I had a go at dressing up, and by the end of that particular day I didn't have to do too much to look like a witch, so it was another 1 minute dressing up routine.
It's been raining and raining and the grey skies and puddles cast the city in a completely different guise. We went to the Israel museum which is spectacular. Of course they've managed to get the original 'Adam' by Rodin. The dwarves stroked his bronze bottom. Where else would Adam stand, I ask you, but on these holy slopes? We wandered around a stunning model of the walled city from the time when the temple of Herod still stood
And we were bamboozled by an enormous bamboo structure. It was only for over 6's to climb, apparently, according to the cautious guide. It would be more of a health hazard for every other human in the museum were the dwarves not allowed to climb it, I explained. 'It's your insurance job if they fall, not ours,' he said.
I fibbed to the next museum official saying Rashimi was four. 'No I'm not, I'm two!' he shrieked. J raised an eyebrow. I'm a more natural fibber in these circumstances. They let us through and it was magic. All bamboo sticks and what looked like shoe laces tying the joints. We could see for miles over the city from the rickety frame.
Rashimi climbed into the car and put his own seatbelt on for the first time. 'If I don't have my theat belt on, the police will see and they will shoot uth with their big gunth,' he explained to the Lozenge.
The Lozenge answered: 'No, Washimi, polithe don't shoot people. They will just make Mummy pay lots of money and then she will have no more left to buy us thtuff.'
Unfortunately, around here police, or at least IDF, do shoot people, and I sometimes wonder how much of this our dwarves catch onto, in the rumble of daily life in this beleaguered land.
The pastor continued as though nothing had happened: 'Lord, Yes Lord! For this wonderful house of wonderful people and we thank you for Grace, Lord,' 'Yes, Lord!' agreed his wife,'We thank you for your daughter Grace and that she has found this wonderful family Lord,' ('MUMMMMEEEEE, I've finiiiiiished,') 'Lord, we thank you for this wonderful cake and all the other food we've been given, and Lord, oh Lord, for these beautiful children. ('IVE FINIISHED MUMMMMMMEEEEEE') 'Yes Lord! You are King of love Lord!' (MUUMMMMMMMEEEEEE. I'VE FINIIIIIIIIIIIIISHED!') And so it continued with the pastor and the Lozenge competing ever louder for airwaves until St Grace ran out of the room chortling loudly to wipe the Lozenge's bottom. The prayer continued for at least another 10 minutes, by witch stage it was time for more pagan pursuits.
Halloween isn't acknowledged at the Lozenge's school since it's a pagan festival and the school is very Christian, which is why as Rashimi - not currently at the school - can be found rushing about cackling like a witch on the plunger broomstick, while the Lozenge fashions a ''thpathe wocket' from a cereal box humming: 'We will make you fishers of men' under his breath. Luckily one of the Consulates came up with a good old fashioned Halloween party complete with piñata smacking and excess sugar, with an adult version later on majoring on more liquid refreshments. The Lozenge was a 'Skellington' and Rashimi a very over excited 'gohtht' having been persuaded to leave the broomstick plunger behind. (They don't make them like that any more, particularly not in China). J and I had a go at dressing up, and by the end of that particular day I didn't have to do too much to look like a witch, so it was another 1 minute dressing up routine.
It's been raining and raining and the grey skies and puddles cast the city in a completely different guise. We went to the Israel museum which is spectacular. Of course they've managed to get the original 'Adam' by Rodin. The dwarves stroked his bronze bottom. Where else would Adam stand, I ask you, but on these holy slopes? We wandered around a stunning model of the walled city from the time when the temple of Herod still stood
- where the dwarves sat in an unknowing pieta...
And we were bamboozled by an enormous bamboo structure. It was only for over 6's to climb, apparently, according to the cautious guide. It would be more of a health hazard for every other human in the museum were the dwarves not allowed to climb it, I explained. 'It's your insurance job if they fall, not ours,' he said.
I fibbed to the next museum official saying Rashimi was four. 'No I'm not, I'm two!' he shrieked. J raised an eyebrow. I'm a more natural fibber in these circumstances. They let us through and it was magic. All bamboo sticks and what looked like shoe laces tying the joints. We could see for miles over the city from the rickety frame.
Rashimi climbed into the car and put his own seatbelt on for the first time. 'If I don't have my theat belt on, the police will see and they will shoot uth with their big gunth,' he explained to the Lozenge.
The Lozenge answered: 'No, Washimi, polithe don't shoot people. They will just make Mummy pay lots of money and then she will have no more left to buy us thtuff.'
Unfortunately, around here police, or at least IDF, do shoot people, and I sometimes wonder how much of this our dwarves catch onto, in the rumble of daily life in this beleaguered land.
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