Visiting the holy land for the first time, I knew I wanted to take cooking classes. While researching for my trip, I found Noor Women’s Empowerment Group: a grassroots organization for women with disabled children and/or those who are solely in charge of their families in Aida Refugee camp. They have multiple ways for those visiting Bethlehem to support their cause such as homestays, embroidery lessons, and cooking classes — so I signed up for a maqluba cooking class. I remember the first time I tried maqluba…I had just started university and an Arab friend let me try a bite of her mom’s maqluba. It was only a bite, but I was in love with its savory soft rice and how it made vegetables I hated taste amazing. I was determined to make it, but my first try was a complete fail; the juices didn’t cook through so when I flipped it the kitchen floor was covered in broth. I tried a few more times, but nothing ever tasted the same as that first, magical bite. Needless to say, from the minute I signed up for this class I was excited to learn to make the dish from a pro. Islam was patient and guided us through every step of each process. It’s easy to feel shy in someone else’s kitchen, especially if you’re cooking a food you’re unfamiliar with. However, Islam immediately worked to alleviate that. If your hands were empty for a second you’d find a knife and a vegetable in them the next. There was no excuse in Islam’s kitchen either — if you were bad at peeling potatoes you had to at least try. When I’m home, I don’t like people helping me in the kitchen unless they know what they’re doing…it’s a pet peeve of mine. However, communally clumsily cutting veggies and doubting ourselves with every chop was a special bonding experience with my other classmates. When the broth had been cooked out, we were called to gather around the prep table for the main event: flipping the dish مقلوبة (Maqluba) upside-down. She held the pot with a large serving tray on top in her hands, waiting for the perfect moment where she was sure enough to flip it. Her wrists effortlessly rotated the large, heavy pot upside down. She set the serving dish with the pot now on top down on the table and slowly removed the pot. We all held our breath, hoping the Maqluba held its dome shape. The pan slide off the rice walls to reveal a beautiful dome, and we all let out a breath of relief. Throughout our meal together and as we sipped tea and ate our dessert bursting with floral aroma, we got to talk to the women of Noor WEG and connect with them and their experiences. They told us about the poverty they live under -- with little money or economic opportunity to provide for their families and the extra needs of their disabled children. On top of that, they suffer greatly because of the regional conflict between necessary utilities being cut, violence, and limited access to outside resources (especially medical resources). They came together because of their struggles and found ways to take action to improve their lives. Now they’re entrepreneurs who’ve found ways to support themselves and create badly needed programs for disabled children through the Palestinian food culture they were raised with. The women of Noor WEG are true examples of the power women hold to change their communities when they come together. Food, like women, is also a powerful force, but one of connectivity. On one hand, it’s a binding force for cultures. Food is history, heritage and the one thing people cling to despite erasure of that history and heritage — I see this in my own culture with Cajun food. Food somehow embodies who we are so much that wrong techniques or ingredients can enrage you. However, food not only connects people who are the same, but also bonds people who are different. I have never seen anything quite like good food that can soften someone’s heart and turn off their defenses. The cooking classes at Noor WEG are an example of that connective power. The classes bring in people from all across the world with so many different experiences and opinions together in Bethlehem to learn about life in Aida camp and Palestinian culture.