We had a great time with the Sidani family last night. We had lots of delicious food, and explanations for everything. It is traditional to break the fast with a date, because this is what Mohammed did. They are a lot of fun, and they all have good stories, about the war and different life experiences.

One of the daughters, who I suspect is around 30, has been with her husband (who was also there) since they were children. When he was 11, he was new at her school, and one of the only blond-haired kids. He also had a motor scooter, so I think he was quite a catch. He used to take her for rides, but he also had to give rides to all of her cousins so that her mother would let her go, thinking that it meant nothing, since he would take each girl around.

During the war, the families in the building would sometimes spend days in the hallway, where it was deemed to be safer from shelling. The kids have memories of uncles and other family members playing games with the kids and trying to entertain them so that they wouldn’t be afraid. Everyone shared food when it was too dangerous to go out.

Last night, different family members from the building came and went, bringing their argileh pipes with them, stopping to visit for a few minutes or an hour.

The family has been inviting us to come for coffee or food since we moved in, but always in a nonchalant way– “Come have coffee sometime.” In the US, this clearly means, “It is possible that someday I will invite you over, but I will let you know.” Here, it is literal, which we realized, but at the same time could not manage to get past our cultural hangups and just randomly knock on the door to invite ourselves in. Maybe now we will find that a little easier.