Distant Relations

Good evening. My name is Adah, and I live in a place called Samaria, in Palestine, north of Jerusalem and south of Galilee. We Samaritans have lived there for over a thousand years, ever since our ancestor Jacob settled here and built the well our village gets its water from. Jacob was the ancestor of the Jews who live in Judea and Galilee, too, so we’re all related, but they don’t talk to us. They don’t even come into Samaria if they can help it, because they think just walking on our roads would get their feet dirty. If anyone wants to travel south from Galilee to Jerusalem they go all the way around, across the river Jordan over to the east, because they won’t dirty their feet. We don’t like them much, either.

You see, what happened is, that when Judea was conquered by the Babylonians about 500 years ago, the Babylonians took all the rich city folk up north so they wouldn’t start a rebellion. And we stayed here, working the land just the way we’d always done. But then after about 100 years the Persians conquered the Babylonians and let all the captives go back to their home, and the ones who came back here thought they were too good to associate with us. They called us half-breeds, said that we didn’t worship God right, and wouldn’t let us help rebuild the city. Our daughters can’t marry their sons and our sons can’t even look at their daughters. They won’t trade with us or buy our goods or help defend us against the Romans, and if our crops fail we can’t get work in their cities. Well, as I said, we don’t like them much either. But it doesn’t seem fair, ‘cause we’ve been here all along.

Anyway I live in a little village near what would be the main road from Galilee to Jerusalem if anybody ever used it, but as I said the Jews always go around. So I was really surprised one day when I went up to the well and found a stranger sitting there. But first I suppose I better explain what I was doing getting water by myself. Mostly the women all go up in the morning and the evening to get water, when it’s cool, and they all come together because of course it’s safer, and besides if you don’t want to be gossiped about you better not go around alone at dawn or dusk. But I wasn’t really welcome to go with them, and so it was more comfortable for me to come when I knew I wouldn’t run into anyone, which is why I was at the well that day at about noon. The reason why I don’t hang around with the other women is because I’m not good enough for them. I don’t know why it is, but it seems like everybody has to look down on somebody else. And it wasn’t really my fault, either, I’ve just had bad luck. You see, my first husband died, and then my second husband divorced me after I miscarried. And I divorced my third husband because he - well, I’d rather not talk about it. And, well, anyway, now I’m on my 5th or 6th, only we’re not really married because the priest says the last divorce wasn’t legal. So the other women think that I’m a bad influence on their daughters and probably have designs on their husbands, too. So they don’t talk to me if they can help it. Sometimes I wonder how they’d manage if they’d had the kind of trouble I’ve had. It’s easy to be self-righteous when life treats you well.

Anyway that’s why I was up there at the well at the hottest part of the day to fetch water. And this stranger was sitting there, and he said, “Will you give me a drink?” And I could tell right away by the way he talked that he was from Galilee. You could have knocked me down with a feather, I was so surprised. First of all, Jews don’t talk to Samaritans. Especially, Jewish men don’t talk to Samaritan women. Like I said, we’re not good enough for them. But what really blew me away was that he asked for water! I mean, he actually was going to drink from my water jug! You know, if a Jew eats with a Samaritan they have to go to the temple to be cleansed, it’s that serious! I couldn’t believe my ears. I was so taken aback I just asked him straight out if he knew what he was doing. “How can you ask me for a drink?” I said. “You’re a Jew!”

And he said, “If you knew who I was you’d ask me for water.” Now, this didn’t make sense at all. It’s a pretty deep well, and he wasn’t carrying anything to put the water in. So I spoke to him kind of sharp, because I’m not stupid, even if I am a Samaritan, and I figured he was trying to put something over on me. “Are you trying to tell me you can do better than Jacob who dug this well?” I said.