Sunday, May 16, 2010

Lemonade Day 1

I met the group I'll be living with for the next two weeks. We are a wide range of talents and a wide range of talents. There are PhD's, retired clergy, school administrators - a wide range. Fortunately, we all seem well suited to work together as a team and take the unplanned "mishaps"' as they come - you kind of EXPECT that in a trip like this.

Last night, our 6pm from JFK did not leave until 10, and a 7 hour flight took 10 hours because we had to avoid that volcano. Upon landing in Madrid, we learned that we would not be getting a imstant transfer to a Tel-Aviv flight, but instead we were stuck in the airport for 10 hours. The group QUICKLY decided to take advantage of this unplanned time IN MADRID and not gripe about being stuck in another airport.

20 dollars got me a subway ticket, a coffee, and a chance to see a head of state leave the Spanish Senate in his motorcade. There is a lot of history and culture in this city. I am better for having spent the time here. I hope to be in In a bed before too long but enjoying every minute of this delay.


Posted by Malik Moore

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Gandhi

Mahatma Gandhi once said that the happiest man is the one who never left the village.

As I sit here alone in the airport - about to "leave my village", I am slightly saddened, partially afraid, and certainly reflective. I wonder to myself if I am that man leaving my village - embarking on not only travel but also destined to be in an unhappy space.

I respect the wisdom of Mr. Gandhi, but as often I do, I have found a very bright side to these words I am told he muttered.

It is hard to find a "bright side" with the many recent trials in my life. Friendships have been tried of late, family is ill and time and resources seem more limited than ever before in my life. Recent choices have been those sorts where there is no clear "right and wrong". Every option leaves me with something I don't truly want and someone getting less than ALL I can give. I'm still not sure what I am to learn from this. Note to God: I'm patiently awaiting to hear the "moral" of this story.

I am sitting here - teetering on my airport stool, phone plugged into an airport socket, carry on bag now stuffed with the extra five pounds of luggage they would not allow me to check in, and inspected shoes not quite tied correctly.

I wonder to myself if I am prepared to "leave the village". Actually, I don't really wonder about leaving this village - because I see it everywhere.

The Village - is the woman next to me that just allowed a stranger - an elderly man, kind and loud talking. A wary man, white hair, sweater and plaid dress shirt kind of man. A man with an "old school" blue collar Baltimore accent. He announced to the women at check in that Baltimore brogue that he was fearful he would sleep through the call for his flight. He has since had 3 or 4 conversations very loud (but not bothersome) conversations with her. This woman (I gather from the loud talking and hard of hearing older man) is a 40 something tech VP leaving Columbus where she visits her own parents regularly.

This brief encounter serves as a reminder to me that we can ALL "find our village" or "leave our village". I am reminded today, that my village is not one with a border, state line, legislation allowing for browns, blacks, reds, and whites to be harrased if they look or sound funny. I am reminded that in "my village" resides many people - brown and black, old and young - brave compassionate people. I share a village with Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, John Brown, and so many other "unknown" people like the woman next to me. Knowing this, I can travel the ENTIRE WORLD and never leave my village. At least, that is what I have taken from the words I have read.

Perhaps, the village Gandhi spoke of is a village of people wanting to REALLY improve the world and it's conditions for those on it. I feel I am traveling WITH a village, not away from one. This village is without borders, without state lines, a village with compassion and support for humanity. I can only leave this "village" when I no longer have compassion and humanity. Those who leave THIS VILLAGE are those that Gandhi spoke of as "men without happiness".

I'm just sayin' lol.......

Posted by Malik Moore

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

An amazing gift on my doorstep

Through my recent trials and misfortunes, it was a God-send to find a book on my doorstep today. As I rushed home to find a passport that I should have recieved a MONTH AGO from an expedited passport service, I instead found a book entitled, "Interfaith Dialogue and Peacebuilding". This book was sent from Australia by a dear friend that seems to know me far better than I know myself and the timing could not have been better. I am slightly deflated to find this same well paid passport service has sent my passport to "another Moore". However, this gift has softened the blow dealt by the passport service. THANK YOU REBECCA for an amazing gift and a well written card.


Posted by Malik Moore

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Books to read

As I start thinking about this trip - in an ACTUAL sense instead of the spiritual/theoretical sense I have seen it in, I need a good book to read.

Ofcourse, I would like a book suggestion that might be RELEVANT to Jerusalem, peace work, interfaith, government policy, grassroots movements, etc., but I need help
narrowing down my book list as I start packing. Pleas give me your suggestion(s).


Posted by Malik Moore

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Monday, April 19, 2010

Maimonides Levels of Giving

I would like to thank everyone who has helped me in my efforts to study interfaith conversations in the Middle East this year (God willing). I have always been a supporter of worthy causes and I can't thank those of you who see this trip as a worthy venture. Your giving is greatly appreciated.

I often comment on the Judeo-Islamic connections I find in my studies - often embarassed by what we miss in modern day society. One "common thread" I have recently learned of is the close language connection in the Arabic and Hebrew word for "charity" (Sadika). A famous Jewish philosopher named Maimonides once taught that there are 8 levels of giving. These levels are:

Level 8 RESPONSIBILITY
At the top of the ladder is the gift of self-reliance. To hand someone a gift or a loan, or to enter into a partnership with him, or to find work for him, so that he will never have to beg again.

Level 7 ANONYMITY
To give to someone you don't know, and to do so anonymously.

Level 6 CORRUPTION
To give to someone you know, but who doesn't know from whom he is receiving help.

Level 5 BOUNDARIES
To give to someone you don't know, but allow your name to be known.

Level 4 SHAME
To hand money to the poor before being asked, but risk making the recipient feel shame.

Level 3 SOLICITATION
To hand money to the poor after being asked.

Level 2 PROPORTION
To give less to the poor than is proper, but to do so cheerfully.

Level 1 RELUCTANCE To give begrudgingly.

A wise philosopher, but a simple concept. I sincerely THANK all who have supported my efforts to learn a skill I plan to share with my community. I selfishly pray that G_d provides me the opportunity to give at each of the levels Maimonides speaks of in his teachings - even the lowest levels.


Posted by Malik Moore

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Condiment Wisdom







This week, I had a nice talk with a friend of mine. We will call this friend "Frank". Frank is a GOOD DUDE - a simple man. He and I met about two years ago - over food. If you know me, it is no suprise I may have forged a friendship over food. Frank saw me at the Y one day and handed me about 20 ears of freshly picked summer sweet corn to give to a colleague and I joked with him about trusting me with fresh food.

Fast forward a few years and many ears of corn later and Frank and I have shared many stories, voted for opposing presidents, and we have even agreed to disagree at times. A rural hunter with right leaning politics and a city boy that might at times be left of center both like to eat, both like to grow vegetables, and both love family. Our opinions on national healthcare - noooot so much the same :-) but let me get to the "condiment wisdom".

Frank and I recently spoke about the situation in the Middle East and Frank shared a story with me that was a "wow moment" for me. He told me about a neighbor he had growing up. This neighbor had an EXTREME dislike for mayo - yep, the condiment. He shared some of the ways his neighbor would DIS mayo - even describing it's vile crust and nasty discolored residue on the jar. Hearing his story instantly reminded me of a college roommate that had a similar opinion of mayo. My friend's distaste for mayo resulted in my cheesesteak order changing from what was once my normal order at Corfu Pizza - salt, pepper, catsup, and mayo. I began to see mayo the same hateful way my roomate Brian had. I thought nothing of my random change of taste at the time. Frank's neighbor had such a distaste for the condiment and such an influence over his children that 4 children plus their father ALL HATED MAYO.

Now, I may be a vegetarian, but I am no vegan - yet. The "condiment wisdom" I refer to in this flow of consciousness rant has nothing at all to do with mayo and nothing to do with tastes in food. What I saw in Frank's brief story he shared about his neighbor is how easily we learn to love and hate from the people we are close to.

Scientifically-or would it be statistically, the odds of 5 people in one household truly inheriting a distaste for whipped eggs and oil (that's all mayo really is - plus a little lemon juice, salt and pepper) is minimal.

It's clear to see Frank's neighbor's STRONG AND VOCAL opinions had swayed the way his family chose condiments. It's even easy for me to see why I don't like mayo on my cheesesteak anymore (even though I have not ordered a cheesesteak in YEARS).

What is honestly SO HARD for me to understand is how cousins who both love falafel, both love hummus, and stuffed grape leaves - with the same Uncle Abraham and same tan skin can't seem to understand OLIVE OIL in all it's forms - cold pressed, extra virgin, virgin.... olive oil however you
look at it is soooooo good.

THE END

(for those of you that don't get this story - like my dear friend sitting next me now who needs everything explained to her, I am happy to elaborate via this blog)



Posted by Malik Moore