There has been a piece of weaving in the Cedar Commons lately. I wasn’t sure what it was, except that it was strips of fabric woven through wooden dowels. There is a group of Somali women and moms who meet down there every Thursday afternoon and Sunday. They gather for conversation and community. They eat and listen to music, exercise, drum and dance, and share crafts they are working on. I have seen the beautiful knitting and beadwork they are working on. And I have enjoyed their sambusas and Somali tea. I have listened to their music in person and through the floor in my office. And I have been amazed by their graceful dancing, so graceful that I haven’t had the nerve to join them, yet. They are always so grateful when I join them. I always leave having been enriched by their beautiful creations, food and company. But I couldn’t figure out what the weaving was. It’s about four feet high with bands of cloth woven between dowels that are just a fraction of an inch apart. I had only seen it between their gathering times all rolled up. Last Thursday I found out what it is. The piece was unrolled and was about 15’ long. It had been in process for several weeks and clearly involved a lot of weaving, and devotion. Some of the women were working on it. Seated on chairs they were carefully weaving the different colors of fabric in and out between the dowels. It turns out that it is a wall. For an aqal, a Somali hut. During the summer there has been an aqal in the old neighborhood of Cedar-Riverside. The women had been gathering there each Thursday until the weather became too cold. They are now in Trinity’s lower level, the Cedar Commons until warmer weather returns. They are preparing for this coming summer, when they will resume meeting at the aqal. During the previous months that the aqal had been standing the weather had taken a toll and the fabric that had been on the wooden frame of the aqal had, for all intents and purposes, fallen apart. These women were working on the new wall for their aqal. In warm weather they gather around the aqal for conversation and community. They eat and listen to music, drum and dance, and share crafts they are working on. And they talk. They invite anyone who is walking by to join them. The community comes together for support and for fun. This wall woven with memories from Somalia is becoming a place for their dreams of the future and for their lives here and now. This coming summer there will be a bright, new wall. This kind of wall I like. In fact, it is a beautiful wall. If only all walls brought people together rather than keeping them apart. The world definitely needs more aqals like this one. Original Journal Entry Date: 1/16/19 © 2019 Jane Buckley-Farlee
11 Comments
Elaine Eschenbacher
1/23/2019 10:42:53 am
Having just visited Palestine where I walked along the separation wall in Bethlehem, I've been thinking a lot about walls. Your post really resonates.
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Jane
1/24/2019 08:11:09 am
Thanks, Elaine. I'd like to hear about your trip sometime!
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Patrick Cabello Hansel
1/23/2019 11:28:39 am
This is a wall to lean on!
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Connie DeLorme
1/23/2019 11:46:27 am
Working together on a project for a community keeps it strong and builds links with the members of the community.
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Carla N
1/24/2019 10:08:43 am
I hope to see this aqal soon. Thank you for sharing this Jane. To me, it’s also about hope—spring & summer, time to be outdoors, is right around the corner & this women’s community is preparing for it! Crocus buds stir admist the weaving!
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Jane Buckley-Farlee
1/24/2019 12:45:09 pm
Thanks, Carla. You can see the frame is you walk down 6th St. It's at 19th Ave and 6th St.
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Bill Hasse
1/27/2019 02:47:05 pm
Cousin Jane: Your blog brings back memories of our service as PCVs in Ethiopia many years ago. I worked for the Ethiopian Forestry Agency when the government was still under Emperor Haile Selassie. There did not seem to be a lot of conflict between the Coptic Christians and the Muslims (or perhaps I did not understand the language & culture well enough to notice it). We (my agency) had a National Forest down near the Somali border but it was difficult and dangerous to go there. Neither the Ethiopian nor the Somali governments truly had control of their border regions. Armed bands on horseback were common. The culture of the Harar and Dire Dawa area was charming & beautiful. One thing we heard about Somali culture was that if they were your friend they would take a bullet for you but if they were your enemy they were relentless.
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Jane Buckley-Farlee
2/7/2019 07:47:22 am
Hi Bill,
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Patti Walsh
1/30/2019 09:46:38 am
I just want to post your blog, Pastor Jane, as a response to all of those horrid and ridiculous reports of the Cedar-Riverside being areas that the Minneapolis police won't even go into LOL. Such hot beds of trouble....
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Jane Buckley-Farlee
2/7/2019 07:49:56 am
Hi Patti,
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AuthorAt less than 4'11'' a pastor and the congregation she serves practice radical hospitality in a primarily Muslim neighborhood. Archives
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