ijaaza

All of the women in the office were given a holiday ('ijaaza') to celebrate International Women's Day, a tradition that has been going for a few years now. We headed south of the city to a chalet owned by one of the women where we spent the day sitting in the sunshine, chatting, eating, drinking coffee, tea and fresh juice, dancing, and laughing.

We played bingo for a little while and I won the first round. I was a bit mortified to discover that my "prize" was having to stand in the middle of the circle and dance to Arabic music. Luckily, my attempt at bellydancing seemed to pass the test.

One of the nicest things about the day, for me, was finally having the chance to see many of my female colleagues without their hijabs. They looked so different, and all had such beautiful hair.

At lunchtime, a delivery van arrived and two large clay urns were delivered. They contained rice which was yellowed with spices, cooked with onion, garlic, and chunks of succulent lamb. The urns were roasting hot, so it was a bit of an operation to empty them out onto a large silver platter, using tea-towels to lift them.

Everyone had brought something with them, so tabouleh, salata labna,and my excuse for a Greek salad were laid out on the table. The feta available here in Gaza leaves a lot to be desired! Needless to say, it was a delicious meal.

After eating, we lay on the grass and gossiped over Arabic coffee. The sun was hot, and I got a little sunburned. Then, the music was turned up loud once more, and there was more dancing, including some dabka, the traditional Palestinian dance. It was so nice to be in such a relaxed environment with my female colleagues.

As evening drew in, we said our goodbyes and went home, tired, full, and happy.