Bedouin food - not

Abdullah was standing in front of my house, which surprised me while I walked up the stairs to my apartment. As usual, I expected no one there. And my boy was sleeping and didn't hear him ring. I haven't a clue how long Abdullah waited for me.

As is my style, I generally don't invite guests over during the week because of my hectic life, but as is the style of the Middle East, Abdullah doesn't wait for an invite. He's a single Bedouin man in his early thirties who joins up in various non-political peace activities and is thinking about setting up a Bedouin tent in the vicinity of Maaleh Adumim for camel rides, music, coffee, tea and dialogue.

I chatted with him while I made him Arabic coffee and prepared dinner for my family. I invited him to dine with us. We sat at the table and unfortunately for him this was not Bedouin fare. Not at all. I had served salad, hot dogs with home fries, noodles with veggies and tofu. No kebabs, mejedderah or lamb. He ate a couple of spoonfuls to be nice but the look on his face was miserable. I thought again of that hysterical scene in the Borat movie where Borat thinks the Jews are trying to poison him with their deli sandwich. I hope he wasn't thinking we were trying to poison him. Actually with serving hot dogs for dinner, perhaps we were only poisoning ourselves. But never mind.

If he only just calls a few hours before he shows up at my door, I might even make him the food he is accustomed to....