From Cedar to Hyssop
II. Corn, Wine and Oil
I. Of Corn
Wheat (El Qamh)
WHEAT is noble, Wheat is holy. Wheat
came down from Heaven wrapped in seven napkins (El qamh, nizil fi sab'a
manadil). Bread made from it is holy, too; a crumb of it should never be dropped
on the floor and trodden on. If a bit falls accidentally it should be picked up
at once, kissed, and pressed to the forehead, and 'dustoor' is sometimes said.[1] It is
told that a black man once picked up a bit of dirty bread from the floor,
kissed it and ate it. For a reward, one cheek became white, a somewhat
agitating blessing to our way of thinking.
Oaths are sometimes taken on the holy
thing. Bedouin use the "Wahyat el honta"[2] the
Oath of the wheat, saying "By the life of the wheat" (Bi hayet
el honta), and another oath runs "By bruised corn and flour" (El duqq
w el daqiq). The binding power of the eating of bread and salt also must not be
forgotten.
"Who eat bread and salt together
will be true to each other" (Ille akal ma'ak malh, w 'esh ma
behunak), as they say in Artas. We regret that another common proverb is:
"He ate our bread and salt and went and cheated us" (Akal 'eshna w
rah w rashna), but such unfaithfulness is reckoned a great sin.
That wheat should be so honoured is
not strange; what is rather surprising is to find that in local story wheat
figures as the forbidden fruit of Paradise. Mothers will show a grain to their
children and point to the furrow in it, telling them, "See, that is where
Eve put her two thumb nails when she divided the grain and gave Adam
half."
[12]
A similar story was heard by Dalman[3] from
a Bedouin in the Judaean wilderness; according to him the Wheat of Paradise,
like the primaeval garlic of the Milkman's Story (p. 44), grew as tall as a
tree, and its grain was "as large as an ostrich's egg." Can one
suppose this legend to be of Arab origin and connect it with the traditional
repugnance of the Bedu for agriculture exemplified in the saying traditionally
referred to Mohammed: "Infamy entered the tent with the plough"? Or
shall one rather connect it with the ancient sacredness of the grain, revered
in all lands, and mothered by such great goddesses as Isis of the Egyptians,
Demeter of the Greeks and Ceres of the Romans? Whether on these reverend
heights or in the more homely proverbs of daily life, wheat has always pride of
place in Palestine. In love poems wheat is a symbol of ripe beauty, as in the
verse:
"O Mother do not choose me a sickly bride
Mother, one as ready as wheat for the mill."[4]
In other poems her uses are extolled,
as in "The Boasting of the Wheat":
I am wheat
Like a spear
Put before the guest
Without any condiments.[5]
which means that wheat is so perfect a food that it can be
offered to the guest alone without other meats or seasoning.
Barley (El sha'ir)
On the whole, grateful as
Palestinians ought to be to the hardy plant for continuing to grow for them
with a minimum of attention, they do not seem to regard it with any particular reverence.
There is an exception to this, however, one special kind of barley which is
reckoned as holy. This is the "Prophet's Barley (Sha'ir el Nebawy),
sanctified by the belief that Mohammed himself ate of it. If this holy barley
is grown special precautions must be taken. It should be tended by 'pure men'
who must take off their shoes while sowing or threshing it, and the threshing
must be done by hand with a stick, not trodden out, for 'no animal or woman
must go near it.' Even the men not touching it but standing near by must
observe decorum and not smoke. Lastly, they who presume to eat it must likewise
be holy men. A man of Bethlehem once grew some of this barley, but his
conscience gave him no peace, for he feared he could not fulfil the conditions
necessary for baking and eating it with safety; so he pulled it up before it
ripened. It is commonly said near Jerusalem that this barley is grown in Trans
Jordan; we have not seen any specimens from those parts, but the fellahin there
certainly know of it. A man from near Jerash said in answer to questions,
"The Prophet's barley is that kind of barley of which the Prophet ate. He
was not proud, he was 'humble' (nafsoh wati), God's peace upon him."
[13]
On similar grounds Moslems advise a
mixing of barley (ordinary barley) with wheat in their bread, a practice not
much liked by Christians. The following tale is quoted in support of it.
"Mohammed said to Fatma, his
daughter, 'O Fatma, I wish to give thee in marriage to Ali.' Fatma replied, 'O
my Father, Ali is poor.' Mohammed said to her:
'Bless God for a poor man, the son of
a poor man,
Bless God for wheat mixed with
barley'
(Tabarak Allah fi faqir ibn faqir',
Tabarak Allah fi qamh khult bi
sha'ir).
Therefore wheat and barley are good
mixed,"
When we enquired what was Mohammed's
reason for advising thus, this further explanation was given, "The
Prophet loved the poor. When he lay dying, Fatma said to him, 'Father, I will
make your shroud of silk.' 'No,' said he, 'make it of cotton.' 'Father, I will
wash you with rose water.' 'No,' said he, 'use only spring water for me. For my
people are poor and they will all wish to imitate me.' These things the Prophet
said out of his love for the poor."
In spite of this, barley does not
live in song as wheat does; her 'boasting' is not heard, only the lament of the
grinding girls:
"O barley, hard one, You called
me from my couch"
(Ya
sha'ir el arqadi, Qawamtni min merqadi);
because barley, especially the hard grain known as 'arqadi'
requires long toil at the stone hand mill before it becomes a good fine flour.
Millet (El Dura)
Dura flaunts her beauty in verse, but
not much is said of her virtue or uses.
The Boasting of the Dura
I am the shining dura
Like the tall spears,
My height is that of a lance,
My beauty is above all beauties.[6]
Her strength also is celebrated in
the saying, "I am so strong that I can sprout through the sole of a
fellah's shoe" (Baqda atlak min wata el fellah).
[14]
Rice (El Ruz)
Rice, in folk speech is alluded to
with some contempt. It is never thought fit for the ceremonial dishes served at
funerals, such as zalabie, which must be made of oil cakes and wheat only.
Still, it is used a good deal at weddings, and favourite tags are often said or
sung when it is being pressed on guests, which is our excuse for mentioning a
grain that does not grow in the country. The following is one of these verses:
"Rice has a bread that won't
feed an army" (El ruz mahu 'esh – Ma bitam wala jesh), which means
something like "Eat all the rice you like, rice isn't worth thinking
about" with a 'sous entendu' of a hope that the hungry visitors will take
the rice rather than finish up the more costly dishes too soon.
Growth of the Corn
Before any work connected with corn
the blessing of the Almighty should be asked. The same is true of any agricultural
or household operation. Indeed a man will often enquire about the girl he is to
marry, "Does she name the Name?" (Bitsammi), hoping that his house
may be protected from lurking spirits by her ready tongued piety. But the
obligation is taken much more seriously where corn is concerned and 'Bismillah'
is often supplemented by poems and prayers.
Sowing
The following is the beautiful prayer
used before sowing at Artas:[7]
"O Lord, feed us;
O Lord, feed others from us,
Thou who feedest the birds
In the dark of the night,
Thou who feedest the worm
In the dark stone."
After sowing the following is
repeated: "We have sowed our grain and we depend on our Lord"
(Badarna habbena w tewakalna 'ala Rabbena).
Once the grain is sown the fields are
watched with intent and minute interest. Each stage of the growing corn has a
special name. We give here some examples from Artas; there are similar names,
often varying in niceties of definition in different parts of the country.
[15]
Stages of Wheat
Seed leaves (Samkha).
Split (Mifsikh).
Lifting
the Banners (Qeim el
Rayat).
Thickening for the ear (Embatn lil sabbal).
Swelling of the ear on the cornstalk (Nafad
el mirwad), lit. mirwad is a Kohl stick.
Flowering
(Emnowir).
Coming
down of the Bread (Tah
el 'esh fi).
Fit
for the 'feriki' (Mifrik
lil feriki).
Levelled
for the sieve (Ibtudhruj
'ala el ghorbal).
Shining
for harvest (Imlemmeh
lil hasidi).
These expressions are also used
for barley. Two others sometimes
inserted are 'Imtabaq,' when the young plant lies spread out on the ground
(like the basketwork dish called 'Tabaq'), and 'Ghulfe,' a term used while the
green leaf still covers the ear but is ready to burst. Most of these stages are
easily understood. 'Lifting the Banners' is an allusion to the young leaves
fluttering in the wind, 'feriki' is the green corn rubbed out to be eaten,
either raw, or grilled. 'Levelled for the sieve' we take to mean all of one
height: the last line goes straight to the Palestinian heart, a dearly loved
phrase 'Shining for harvest.' But many are the vicissitudes before that welcome
time comes. The danger most to be feared is drought and many are the prayers
for lain in folk use, and charms and songs in plenty too, which have already
been much collected and studied.[8] The
following are those described by women of Artas. It is interesting to note at
once that rain ceremonies according to them, to be effective, should be carried
out as far as possible by children, and the songs and rhymes sung by them are
quite purposely childish with refrains including words in baby language,
especially the often repeated cry 'Imbu Ya Rabbi,' the word 'imbu' being one
used by infants when asking their mothers for a drink of water. This is to
emphasize the helplessness of the people crying in their need to God. The
usual procedure is for the children to go in procession through the village. At
each house the women come to the door and sprinkle water over the children, who
say in reply, "May God give you to drink," "God refresh
you," and "Fill your cornbins" (Yisqiku. Yirwiku. Malli
sawabiku). Sometimes a woman comes out grinding a corn mill as loud as she can,
with no corn in it, 'like thunder' they say, or a child carries a cock along,
who should crow, for rain, and the child's duty is to see that the poor bird
does crow, loud and long. Other charms of like nature are practised. The
following are examples of the verses sung by the children as they go about the
village.[9]
[16]
"O our Lord, Lord of wealth,
Hasten upon us with thunders;
O our Lord, Lord of trees,
Hasten upon us with rain.
O our Lord, why this delay?
Wet the roots of the vetches.
O our Lord, O our Lord,
We are little, what are our offences?
We asked for bread from our Mothers,
They struck us on our mouths.
Give us to drink, O Lord."
"O Lord, the streams
For the watering of the fattening sheep!
O Lord, rain and clouds
For the watering of the cows and the horses!
O Lord, a sprinkling
For the watering of the he goats![10]
"She went, the mother of clouds, to give the rain.
She came not till the corn was as high as a tree.
If it rains we shall cook the lentils.
O our early wheat as high as a mare,
O our early wheat as high as a camel.
My waterskin is withered
From the farness of the springs.
Give us to drink, O Lord."[11]
"O Lord, wet the head veil
Before we load up and go,
Before we load up for Egypt.
In Egypt we shall be strangers.
O Lord, wet the black abaya,
We are under the measurers (of wheat).
O Lord, why this anger?
Wet the roots of the sorrel,
The bread is hard in my bosom,
From the farness of the springs.
Give us to drink, O Lord."[12]
[17]
"O Mother of clouds, O whiteness
(lit: clots of sour milk)
We arc scorched with this heat.
O Mother of clouds, our clouds,
Wet the coat of our shepherd.
Our shepherd is Hasan the baldhead,
Never satisfied, never
content,
He went to bring us
henna.
If it rains we shall put
on the henna (as a sign of joy),
If no rain comes no need
for the henna."[13]
A remoter but even more fearful
catastrophe that may overtake the crops is a visitation of locusts. Fellahin
say that the 'hoppers' come marching, following a leader (hoja), having
first sent out scouts to plan their route. Certainly they do have a most
uncanny faculty for finding the one green patch in a bit of country far from
their desert breeding place, and the hopping, crawling host is always accompanied
by a few fliers, which has given rise to this idea.
There are charms, once fondly
repeated, to drive the swarms away. Today, with reason, people believe more in
energetic modern methods, the Flame Throwers, and winding ways of tin fences,
along which the destroyers press and hurry to their doom in deep dug pitfalls.
A Charm to Drive Away Locusts
"High, you locusts, high;
Come not to my uncle's lands;
If I hunger they feed me,
If I am naked they clothe me.
High you locusts, high;
High, you locusts, of the gazelles,[14]
Graze not on the orphans' lands.
O Lord of the worshippers,
Drive the locusts
From the lands of the worshippers,
The poor."[15]
But the promise bolds, 'seed time and
harvest shall not fail,' the bad years pass and again a good year comes and the
sickle is put in once more. This is 'the welcome time' when there is work and
plenty for all, every hand is needed, men and women are out in the fields all
day long and even the most despised members of the community become quite
precious.
[18]
We will give here some examples of
the songs sung at harvest time in Artas. Of course improvisations are very
popular, but there are a few traditional songs of which variants are current
also in other parts of the country.
The Song of the Standing Corn
"O my corn, my standing corn,
Food for my little ones,
O light of my eyes.[16]
O my corn, let us up and go
Ere the reaper comes,
Who gathers both thorns and marjoram."
The words at the end of these lines are
diminutives, probably of endearment, as if it meant "O my dear little bit
of corn," etc.
A Harvest Song
"O my corn, my tall one,
If it were not for God and myself,
The shepherds would have eaten you up,
Pasturing upon you their camels and sheep."[17]
This song has many more verses which
we have not space to give here, this one is included as a reminder that the
age-long trouble between Cain and Abel still exists in Palestine.
Here is a well-known folk tale
concerning this: "Once the townsman, the Bedu and the fellah stood
together looking up to heaven. 'God help us,' said they, 'how shall we live?'
Then God gave to the citizen weights and measures (sa' w tabbi w dira)
and to the fellah the plough, saying, 'Take the plough and sow' (Khud el
sikke w izr'a). The Bedu said, 'What can I have? What is left for me?' God
said to him, 'Take from both of them' (Khud min el etnen). Then said the
Bedu, 'This is God's Justice for us.' "
And to this day he drives his flocks
over land sown by others and says, "It is our right" (Halal
andina).
Song of the Girls
"O maidens, why do you weep?
For the grapes and the figs
And the shade of the gardens."[18]
[19]
Song of the Lazy Man
"With the little sickle
I continue to reap;
With the large sickle
I am no harvester.
Should you, O my sickle,
Should you not reap,
In the market I'll sell you
And rest from this trouble."[19]
Song of the Sickle
"My sickle, who sharpened it?
It went to the goldsmith who sharpened it,
He would not sharpen it but for a (perfume) box,
O that the box would cause wailing for him."[20]
Some of these songs are easy to
understand, that of the Lazy Man for instance, that contemptible creature who
has no shame in wishing to reap with the 'qalush,' the little sickle used by
women, rather than with the 'manjal.' the large one used by men, or the Song of
the Girls, who, binding sheaves in the burning heat, long for the cool shade of
the gardens. But a little explanation seems necessary for the Song of the
Sickle and we must summon up our courage and attempt it. The Palestinian
sickle has, as a sickle should have, a serrated cutting edge, which has to be
sharpened every year. This is not easily done and the craftsmen with the
necessary skill often ask what the fellahin think is a high price for the job.
The meaning then may be that the reaper in the song says deridingly that the
man who sharpened it for him was a goldsmith and what he had to pay him was the
value of a 'perfume' box, whatever that is, and he wishes the goldsmith would
die of it. Perhaps also in Old England, the man with the speciality of putting
teeth in sickles, who had a special name, the 'sickle tedder.' knew the value
of his craft secret and made the best he could out of it at his one opportunity
in the year.
Reaping, they say, should not be
begun unless there is dew, for otherwise the corn will shake out of the ear.
Sometimes, if the ideal moment arrives after a dry spell and there is need for
haste in the cutting, the owner of the land will call for volunteers. Then
takes place what they term "El 'uni," a time of rapid work and
fun, like the rural "Bees" or Apple Coring parties of America, where
the farmer's helpers receive no pay, but there is plenty of good food going.
Whether in this co-operation of willing hands in an urgency, or the more
leisurely way of ordinary work, the girls and women bear an important part in
binding up the sheaves. This, owing to the weeds being allowed to flourish,
usually means a prickly task, hence the song of the Binders:
[20]
"O Binder of sheaves, unhappy
one,
O thou buried within
Spines of the thorny Burnet
And Eryngium that is not soft."[21]
Threshing
A most primitive way of getting the
corn out of the ear can be seen occasionally in Trans Jordan and among the tented
folk on the coast lands near Caesarea. There the women beat the corn by hand
with a wooden mallet, as seen in Plate 3. But in the far distant past some
peasant, weary of this tedious labour, had the brilliant idea of making his
cattle do the beating for him by the treading of their feet on the bare ground,
and this method persists all over the country to this day, for threshing
machines are still rare in Palestine.
This is the Blessing of the Threshing
Floor, as repeated in Artas:
"The Bllessing of God
Fall here,
Chopped straw and grain
The Blessing of Hedar,[22]
Upon this threshing floor."
With harvest time the threshing floor
becomes the chief centre of village activity, as the empty space, so hard and
beaten down, receives the gathered grain. At first the heaps piled on it are
small, beans, vetches and lentils are the early ripeners, but hard upon them
the real harvest comes in, and the heaps of wheat and barley rise higher and
higher till the special place of each family on the floor is full. Then bands
of laughing girls climb up on the wheat stack in haste to pull some of the best
straws out of the pile before the threshing begins; later, they will sit under
shady trees and weave their patterned trays and baskets.
Now must the poor beasts go round and
round, treading down the heaps to manageable proportions, and often have we
seen them go muzzled, as if the kind words of Moses had never been spoken.
[21]
Trodden, broken, the corn lies ready
for the tearing board (loh) studded with sharp volcanic stones on
the underside which is harnessed to a horse or donkey and driven over it. This
is fine fun for the children as they ride round on the board, and feel they are
being useful too, as their weight helps in the work. In and out and round the
heaps, men women and children are busy all day, the whole village is on the
floor, and many sleep there at night too, to guard their treasure.
Then comes the winnowing with the
long wooden forks, when the wind is right; strong arms fling the corn into the
air, and clouds of dust fly down the vale.
Sieving next begins, hour after hour,
and now at last the grain begins to emerge, freed from chopped straw and husks.
One watches the long drawn out process with mingled feelings; it is beautiful
to the eye and joyful to the heart, and yet through all these perpetual
tramplings of animals and men, how, one wonders, can the grain ever come forth
fit for food? In spite of the efforts of anxious little boys who flit around
armed with bowls, dung often falls on the heaps, and earth and stones are
always being ground round with them. What labour is necessary to remove all
this extraneous material that has been so laboriously mixed with the corn! It
is not even finished on the threshing floor for all their sweepings and sievings,
as well the careful housewife knows who handpicks her corn all over again
before she bakes her loaf.
Yet in the end the loaf is baked, –
the marvellous, hard grain has survived through all rough handling and is still
fit to support human life. Praise God now for the gathered harvest and hang up
the pretty plaited "Blessing of the Harvest" (Barakat el hasidi)[23] in
the house where now the grain is safely stored in the great clay corn bin. One
of these "Blessings" from Artas is shown on Plate 2: it was made from
the bearded wheat called Crow's Feather (Rish el Ghorab).
Now is the time when the Alms of the
threshing floor (Zakat el Jurn) should be given. These are not obligatory,
as are the Alms of Ramadan. Then every member of a family must give alms to the
poor, or all their fasting will be for nothing. The right amount of grain to
give, if it can be done, is 'Nine waqias'[24] and
a third, picked and sieved and salted.' The 'third' is added so that there is
no fear of the offering not being perfect. When collected the offerings are
divided between the needy ones: first of all the blind, the
[22]
orphans, and the strangers should have a share, then others
according to their poverty. Sometimes a really poor man or a blind one will get
enough at Ramadan to keep him a whole year. But the Alms at the threshing floor
are voluntary, the overflowing of abundance. Vows are now paid, and gifts given
to the muezzin. Once much alms of corn, and of oil too, used to be given: from
Artas to Abu Zakariye (at Beit Izkariye). But one night the saint appeared to a
man of Artas in a vision and said: "Why do you give to me who am neither
hungry nor thirsty? Give to the poor" (Lesh ati li ana, wala ana atshan
wala ja'an. Ati lil fuqara). Abu Zakariye guards any crops confided to his
charge; sometimes sacks of grain, etc., are left up at his mosque while the
owner is on a journey. Once some lentils were left there in this way and some
young men stole some of them. Then were they struck with blindness, but when
they repented and threw back the lentils into the sack they recovered their
sight. Another time a man stole some chick peas and they turned to scorpions in
his pockets! The holy man knows well how to protect those who trust their goods
to his care.
Generosity at the time of threshing
is always to be praised, and is often in Artas commended with the saying:
"O blessing of the two brothers who did not cheat each other" (Ya
barakat el akhen ille ma khanu ba'adu).
Miss Baldensperger first heard this
story as a little girl, when an old sheikh visited Bishop Gobat's School and
declared that the school was built on the site of the threshing floor of the
Two Brothers and that therefore a blessing rested on the school, giving health
to all the children who lived there. But who were the two brothers and why were
they blessed? This is the story of the two brothers.
"There were once two brothers;
one brother was blessed with boys and girls, one had no children. Their
threshing floors lay side by side, and the brother that had no children said to
himself, 'My brother has a large family, he needs more than I do.' So during
the night he took corn from his floor and put it on to that of his brother. Next
day the one with the large family thought 'My brother has no children. I will
make him happy with more corn. I will put some for a surprise on his floor
tonight.' And he did so. Therefore the Two Brothers were blessed."
Bread
To conclude this chapter we add a few
notes from the rich folklore of this subject.
Broadly, bread made in Palestinian
villages is of two kinds, Oven Bread (Khubz el tabun), and Girdle Bread
(Khubz el Saj).
[23]
The Saj is an iron plate like a
girdle, but shaped like a shallow inverted bowl, placed bowl side over the
fire, and on it a very slack dough, which may be either leavened or unleavened,
is thrown. The result is often bread as thin as a wafer and most delicious,
especially when fresh. The tabun is a round pan of sun-baked clay with a
movable lid; sometimes it has a flat bottom, but more usually none. This
little oven is placed inside a small hut, and on its bottom, or underneath it,
bits of small stones, preferably either flints, or tessera from old mosaics are
laid. The fuel (brushwood and dung) is heaped round the tabun and fired and
burns all night, till in the morning all is hot and glowing, with no smoke and
the bread cakes can safely be laid on the little stones (irdefe) and
baked. So much trouble is required to get the oven just right that the saying
is, "The oven is a fine lady, one has always to dance attendance on
her" (El tabun siriya bidha khidmi temelli).
Now there is a common saying about
bread:
"Bless God for the hidden bread;
Bless God for that which no eye has seen."
Tabarak Allah fi mull w el mamlul (mamlul=covered or buried)
Tabarak
Allah fi ma shafetu el eyyun.
This appears to refer to a more
ancient way of making bread than either of those described above, the 'mulla'
of camel men and other travellers, a bread cake thrust into the heart of the
hot coals in a hole dug in the ground. Such bread can certainly be described
as buried or hidden, but today the saying is also applied to oven bread, which
is equally hidden from the eyes of men during the baking, not, however, to Saj
bread, which is exposed to view. Bread that is open to view, or any other food,
may easily become 'manfus' because the eye of the hungry has dwelt on it. It is
difficult to get a clear idea of the sense of this word or the idea it
represents. The people speak as if the 'nafs,' the 'Spirit,' of the desirous
one gazing on the food goes into it and makes it evil – even quite poisonous.
One day a man stood chaffering for a melon and a crowd gathered idly watching
him. The melon was very large and the bargaining prolonged. Suddenly the man
became aware of the crowd and turning round cried bitterly "Manfus"
and abandoned the melon.
[24]
This is all part and parcel of that
belief in the Evil Eye, which is held in Palestine in a most pernicious form
and of which much study has already been made.[25] It
is an evil belief wherever it is still met, in Egypt or Italy or elsewhere, but
generally in Italy it is a prerogative of singular people of supposedly
peculiar malignance. But in Palestine the Eye may be exercised by pious kind
folk quite unwittingly. So it is to a certain extent in Egypt, but in Palestine
it is in such a form that where still believed in it can quite poison family
life. What can one say of a belief that may go so far that, as one observer
says, "a mother dare not look with the eye of love on her own child"?
One can only wish that such a folk belief would disappear quickly from the
earth, it makes only for unhappiness; in contrast with it let us end by telling
of another folk belief which makes for kind charity and hospitable feeling. We
have already noted the holiness of bread, however it is baked. Never must a bit
of it be refused to any poor person. This is firmly held to by the villagers,
and marvellous is the hospitality of the poor to the poor. There are various
stories told of what happens to those who would refuse such charity. Commonly
it is said in Artas to one who is not ready to give when asked: "Take care
or you will share the fate of the tortoise, the accursed woman."
The tortoise is really an enchanted
woman and she can still understand all that is said to her, although she is for
ever dumb and so can make no reply. This fate fell upon her in this wise. Our
Lady Fatma once begged a little bit of bread from a woman who was baking. When
the bread was unkindly refused she put a curse on the woman saying that she
should henceforward go about with the oven (the tabun) on her back. So the
accursed woman became a tortoise and the shell on her back is the tabun and you
can see the marks of the burning upon it to this day.
II. The Vine
Artas, a village of olive yards, is
naturally richer in lore of the olive than in that of the vine. They have the
usual proverb about the way to grow the vine: "In Winter lay me down, in Summer
raise me up" (Fi el shita irmini Fi el sef qimini), and faithfully
follow it, laying the stems to lie flat on the ground till the early summer,
when they raise them on stones or on poles crossed over so as to bear the
weight of grapes to come; this is shown in our photographs on Plates 4 and 5.
Of course, as good Moslems should,
they have a Cautionary Tale to tell to the young, how the stock was once
watered by a lion, a peacock, a monkey and a pig, since when he who drinks of
the fruit of the vine becomes successively fierce as a lion, proud as a
peacock, garrulous as a monkey, and finally somnolent and disgustful as a pig.
To contrast with this we will give the Story of the Creation of the Vine as
told by the Christians of Beit Jala.[26]
[25]
"When Adam and Eve were in
Paradise God sent His Angel to drive them forth. The Angel grieved for them,
and when returned to Paradise he thrust the staff into the ground and leaning
on it wept bitterly over it. Then the staff grew and in a little while became a
tree and the fruit of it was like the tears of the Angel. He ate of it and saw
that it was sweet. Then he gave of it to Adam and said to him 'Sow seed of
this.' And Adam did so and the name of the tree is the Vine." The word
used for 'vine' here is 'dalye'; it is heard in Artas in common talk as well as
in tales or proverbs; they will say of a beautiful girl: "Beautiful as a
bunch of grapes between the vine leaves" (Zey el kutuf bein waraq el
dalye). The word has a plural "dawali." Hence an old man in the
village used to commend the happy time of camping in the vineyards for the
gathering in of the grapes as a cure or all human ills, ending by chuckling
over his own favourite pun: "The vines are my medicine" (Dawali,
Dawa li).
Though in our pleasure at the sound
of the old phrase "Corn, Wine and Oil" we could not resist putting it
at the head of this section, we must confess that 'Wine' has nothing to do with
Artas, a Moslem village. Such grapes as are not eaten raw, green or ripe (and
the people of Artas, as already noticed, seem almost to prefer them green) are
made into grape treacle (dibs), or raisins (zebib). Dibs is made
thus. The grapes, gathered by the women, are crushed by the men in a rock cut
vat. The juice flows from one vat into another and is then scooped out and
poured into large kettles, where it is boiled; it is said to be sometimes
cleared by throwing in a bit of clay (howari). Then the women store the
treacle up in the large jars they have been getting ready for the purpose.
The process for making raisins is
simpler still. Ripe grapes are chosen, and are dipped into a lye of wood ash
and water, with a little olive oil floating all top of it. After draining they
are spread on the roof to dry on red earth in the sun. Sometimes leaves of Varthemia
iphionoides Boiss. et Bl. (Shteli; Ikteli) are spread out for the fruit
to lie on, in the same way as they are used for drying figs. It takes about two
weeks to dry raisins well and during that time they need no attention, unless
there is much dew, in which case they have to be covered at times.
The vine leaves are also important in
Palestinian housekeeping, for there is no more favourite dish than rissoles of
chopped meat and rice wrapped up in them. A store of the leaves dried is kept
for winter use; they are generally threaded on a string and the wreaths are
hung in festoons on the walls of the living room, giving it a decorated and
festive air.
[26]
The vine is delicate and requires
care, the olive grows out on the mountains and can protect itself, while the
fig tree, which is hardly less important to the fellah than the other two, is
homely and is planted near the village. Hence the proverb: "The vine is a
town lady, the olive an Arab and the fig a peasant woman" (El dalye
siriya el zeitun bedawiya el tin fellaha).
III. The Olive Tree
The Olive Tree is often called
"the Blessed Tree" (El shajarah el mubarakah) and fellahin
sometimes swear by it on this wise: "By the Life of the Tree of Light
(Whyat shajarah el nur).[27] They
believe that the tree is sacred, not sacred as those trees are which are
haunted by spirit or 'wely,' but, as the giver of food and light, blessed by
God Himself, Who will punish any man who should cut one down so that he should
have no peace after. Yet they provoke the Lord daily, not only by cutting wood
for fuel, which in His mercy may be pardoned to their need, but by their
destroying of beautiful and fruitful trees in the spite of their village feuds.
This is the more grievous because the trees take long to grow to maturity for
bearing. A man will often in meditating over planting decide to plant figs or
other fruit trees rather than olives because he may hope to eat of the fruit of
the former himself, while the latter will benefit only his sons. Olives are
grown from the shoots round the tree roots and after transplantation and coming
to robustness must be grafted. The stocks arc also taken from wild trees and
these have a reputation for greater strength, although, of course, the shoots
from the cultivated trees are also 'wild' in a sense. This belief in the
greater powers of resistance of a wild tree is expressed in the saying,
"This one is from a sweet tree" (Hatha min shajara helwe),
said of some darling but weakly child as the gossips shake their heads and
wonder if it will ever be reared.
When at last, after fifteen years or
so, the trees are in bearing, a full crop cannot be expected every season, the
year may be fertile (khasab) or infertile (mahil), for reasons
not understood by the fellah, or weather conditions, on which he is very wise,
may affect the crop unfavourably. He especially dislikes dew and heavy moisture
while the trees are in flower, when the pollen may be injured. There is a
story, used proverbially in Artas, about two women, one of whom owned olive
trees, and the other a wheat field. She who had olive trees said: "O Lord,
send the sirocco to set the olives" (Ya Rabbi el simun, 'ind 'aqad el
zeitun). She who had wheat said, "O Lord, send dew that the ear may be
formed on the cornstalk" (Ya rabbi el nada, 'Ind nafad el minwada).
[27]
The moral of which is that each prays for his own need
without thought of other. As they say also, "Everyone would draw the
stream to his own cistern" and "Everyone takes the best bit of the
fire for his own loaf." When the crop is ripe, in November, there is a
busy time picking; children enjoy their 'olive holidays,' and women and men all
bear a part. That of the men is to climb into the trees and throw the olives
dawn to the women, who have spread cloths to receive them, but in many villages
they do not use these refinements, but beat the trees with long sticks, which
is very harmful to them, and gather the fruit from the dirty ground. Songs are
sung during the picking, mostly improvisations and chorus, in Artas the favourite
refrain runs: "O olives, become lemons; O lemons, become olives" (Ya
zeitun eklib limun, Ya limun eklib zeitun), which expresses a never to be
realised desire that their olives may grow as large as lemons. Other verslets
run: "O olive of the marl, give oil for my pancakes" (Ya zeitun el howari,
Eklib zeitak maqali), and "What is the fatness of the year? Rain in
December and January. This is oil from the olive tree which has drunk af the
water of January."[28]
When gathered the olives are packed
into baskets or goatskin bags, "never, without calling on the name of the
Lord to prevent the Jins eating part of the fruit,"[29] and
are carried to the mill. There the olives are piled in a great stone basin and
crushed by an upright millstone, through the centre of which goes a long pole
harnessed at the other end to some animal. This is usually a camel, and is
blindfolded so that it shall not grow dizzy, and round and round it goes all
day until the olives are reduced to pulp. The pulp, or marc, is then put into
flat baskets or bags, which are placed one on top of another and pressed in a
rude kind of press until the oil runs out. From this work at the mill we have
the following proverbs, all very pertinent and telling in everyday life:
"Only the press will give the
oil" (Ma bejib el zeit ille el 'assarat), "Who will say his
own oil is not clear?" (Mini bequl 'an zeitun 'eikir), "You
measure my oil in the dark, but God sees" (Ya imkayal el zeit bil
'atmi, Allah nadhar w besir).
[28]
But sometimes
the women make ail themselves in a more primitive way, from olives which they
carefully gather for their ripeness and size. At Artas there is a rock face
with a shelf in it and there are holes on the floor of the shelf in which the
women beat and bruise the olives with .a stone pounder. When crushed the pulp
is placed in hot water and the oil skimmed from the top when it rises, and this
oil is thought to be very pure and peculiarly suitable for offerings to holy
places to be burnt in the lamps hung there.[30] This
manner of making the oil and its special use has caused it to be likened to the
'pure olive oil beaten' which the children of Israel were hidden to bring to
the Tabernacle 'to cause a lamp to burn continually.'[31]
In
Palestine it is still the common use to light churches, mosques and shrines
with olive oil (it should always be olive oil and not simsin or any other kind)
in spite of the invasion of modern methods. The lamps are usually of glass,
small open vessels, made at Hebron, hung in metal containers, and they are lit
by cotton wicks supported by little tin and cark holders soaking in the oil
floated on water. Not only is there a blessing on oil vowed and given for this
holy use, whether of the 'pure beaten oil' or of whatever quality the donor can
afford, but the oil placed in such lamps acquires an added sanctity and is
reckoned of curative value. This reminds one of the Story of Marco Polo and how
he went to Jerusalem to procure the holy oil from the lamp that hung before the
Holy Sepulchre so as to have an acceptable gift for the great Kublai Khan
himself. We are not told if he was anointed with the oil or whether he drank
it; both uses are known in Palestine and Canaan tells us that at the holy
places of "several 'aulia,' local saints," the women are not content
with merely drinking the oil from the lamps, but eat the wicks as well![32]
These
drinkings of and anointings with holy oil seem to rise quite naturally from the
great esteem in which olive oil is held in daily life. On festive occasions
heads are still anointed with oil, and it still drips down the beard and on to
the skirts or the clothing; we noted that in the sad recalling of the famine
years of the war one of the commonest laments was: "We were so poor we
hadn't even a thimble full of oil to put on our heads." Babies, too, are
rubbed with oil and salt to make them strong. Did not the Prophet Mohammed
himself say "Eat of the oil and anoint yourself with it, for it is from a
blessed tree"? So also there are stories and proverbs alluding to the high
value of oil, wether used raw or cooked. Old-fashioned people will often begin
the day by drinking a little cupful of it, and all are glad to dip their bread
in it, and of course to use it in all manner of cooked food. And now a story to
show how nourishing olive oil is.
[29]
"A man
had two wives, one the beloved one and one the hated one, – for how shall he
lave two at once? Can a head wear two caps? Therefore the beloved one and her child
were fed with semn (clarified butter) and the hated one and her child had oil
to eat. The children were of the same age and the mothers perceived that when
they quarrelled the eater of oil was the stronger. So the beloved wife went to
a wise man and asked 'Why is it that my child who has good food is not the
stronger?' He replied, 'Semn for beauty, but oil for strength' (El semn lil
zen, w el zeit lil 'asaben)," and his saying is repeated as a proverb
to this day. Another similar one is, "Eat oil and butt the wall" (Kul
zeit 'W entah el heit), i.e., you will be as strong as a goat which
butts its head against the wall.
The wood of
the olive tree is, as all know, an excellent fuel, but its excessive
consumption in Palestine is due to the needs of Europeans and townsfolk, and
scarcely at all to those of the fellahin. For this reason probably it does not
figure in verses and sayings about fuel – no doubt also the feeling that it was
too sacred to be felled lightly had more power in olden days than now. The
feeling of its sanctity has passed over into the affection for pious objects
and souvenirs carved from choice pieces of the wood which are carried away in
such quantities, every year by pilgrims and tourists. This may all have arisen
from Christian veneration of the land and of the olive trees of Gethsemane in
particular; we know of no such custom in earlier days, perhaps also the beauty
of the wood itself with its streaked markings may account for something of its
popularity. These markings have given rise to the following folktale:
How the Olive Tree Mouned for Mohammed
"When the Prophet Mohammed died
all the trees mourned and cast down their leaves. Then came one and said to the
Olive Tree: 'O Olive Tree, the Prophet is dead and all the trees mourn and why
do you not mourn?' The Olive Tree replied, 'Break my wood and see the grief
within at my heart.' So he broke a branch from the Olive Tree and saw the grief
in her heart. For her grief was within and not to be seen of men."
So to this day you can see the black
streak in the wood of the Olive, that is the sign of her mourning.[33]
[30]
[1] what is here meant by 'dustoor' (permission)
is not quite clear, but it is usually said when a person is doing anything
considered likely to vex the 'earth spirits.'
[2] "Honta" is also used in a
general sense, as 'the crops.'
[3] Da1man,
op. cit., p. 569.
[4] Appendix
A 4.
[5] Appendix
A 5.
[6] Appendix
A 6.
[7] Appendix
A 7.
[8] See
Dalman, op. cit., p. 137.
[9] Appendix
A 8.
[10] Appendix
A 9.
[11] Appendix
A 10.
[12] Appendix
A 11.
[13] Appendix A 12.
[14] Meaning
that locusts, like gazelles, breed in the desert.
[15] Appendix
A 13.
[16] See
Appendix A 14.
[17] Or
"pasturing upon you the destroyers." Appendix A I5.
[18] Appendix
A 16.
[19] Appendix
A 17.
[20] Appendix
A 18.
[21] Appendix
A 22.
[22] Hedar is
a 'wely,' or Moslem saint.
[23] Sometimes
called the Comb (Misht). In Egypt it is also made and is there called
the "Bride of the Corn" (Aruset el Qamh); it is thought
to be represented in certain Ancient Egyptian tomb scenes. (See Blackman,
"The Pellahin of Egypt." pp. 171 and 307.)
[24] A waqia
is about 1/2 lb.
[25] cf.
Canaan, "Aberglaube"; Einsler, "Mosaik."
[26] Collected
by Mrs. Wahby.
[27] Another
version is "By the life of the tree of light which lights the
mosque," because mosque lamps are lit with olive oil.
[28] Appendix
A 20.
[29] Daldensperger,
"Woman in the East." P.E.F. Quarterly, 1901, p.68.
[30] See
Plate 6. This oil is called in Artas Zeit Jul or Jol.
[31] Exodus,
XXVII. 20.
[32] Canaan,
"Light and Darkness in Palestine Folklore." J.P.O.S., vol. 2. 1931.
[33] Appendix
A 21.