Twenty-Fo’a, Shut the Do’a

Two Four! oh yeah. I

Although the real celebration will be tomorrow when Stephen gets back with Jad and Shadee, today is my official birthday – woohoo! George and I were supposed to drive into Amman today, but those plans were cancelled at the last minute so I spent my 24th in Ramallah! How nuts is that?? George and Mariam got me beautiful orange roses, a CD called ‘Lullabies from the Axis of Evil’, and a book of selected poems by Mahmoud Darwish, translated into English, entitled ‘Unfortunately , it was Paradise’.  Perfect birthday gifts!

Lullabies from the Axis of Evil CD Cover

I was psyched about the book, because I’ve been wanting to read Darwish’s poetry, and the CD just cracked me up. It’s a compilation of lullabies from all of the countries Bush labeled as enemies of the U.S., part of the modern day ‘axis of evil’.  Aside from the awesome and hilarious title, the idea behind the CD was cool – to show how similar the lullabies mothers sing to their children are, all over the world – to highlight the humanity and the similarities between peoples that have often been reduced, in references by the U.S. government, to simply ‘the enemy’.

After presents we went out to a little place where we had a breakfast mezze (selection of appetizers – sort of like lots of tapas) of olives, hummus, cucumbers, tomatoes, lebneh (strained yogurt – it becomes thick, like a spreadable cheese), tabbouleh, foul (pronounced ‘fool’, it’s made of brown fava beans, partially or completely mashed, which are slow-cooked and served with olive oil, chopped parsley, onion, garlic and lemon juice), pita bread, and fried eggplant. Sooo good!

After breakfast George and Mariam dropped me at Pronto where I sipped on ice cold lemonade blended with mint and ice – my new favorite drink – and FINISHED editing the ‘Cultural Routes in Palestine’ UNESCO report! Oh yeah. Such a good feeling. My first assignment completed and submitted, George came over to the cafe and started prepping me on my new projects. The rest of the afternoon was spent working with George, editing down his and Mariam’s latest film for Al-Jazeera to a 3-minute short, to be submitted to a Gaza film festival. I’m working with film!! Okay, granted I’m not wielding the camera, directing the shots or scripting witty dialogue, but I’m at least playing some part! You have to start somewhere, right??

Now, we’re all back at the apartment resting up for awhile, and in about a half an hour, George and I are going out to the bar ‘Blue’ for a little birthday cocktail. Good day!

Ramallah

First full day in Ramallah! Okay, so for those of you who don’t know, Ramallah (which basically translates to ‘mountain of God’) is a city in the West Bank, populated by around 27,000 people.

Today, we all had to work. George and Mariam were editing at the studio, Stephen was writing in the apartment, and I headed into the city to do my work. I love working at cafes and in other public spaces – makes the whole experience so much more pleasant, and when you do need a break, there’s quality people watching at your fingertips.

Today, I spent most of the afternoon at a cafe called Pronto. Right now I’m editing a grant proposal for UNESCO. The document is 90 pages long, and it’s taking a loooong time to edit BUT the project proposal is fascinating. It’s all about promoting tourism in Palestine by creating paths that trail through the country, stopping at all the important religious, cultural and historical sites. An added bonus for me – the proposal includes details on each of the sites that the proposed routes will connect, meaning I’m learning a ton about Palestine in the process.

Downtown Ramallah

Fresh squeezed lemonade and manaaish (bread with zaatar), a comfortable chair, interesting work, great people watching, and a sunny afternoon in Ramallah. Who could ask for anything more??

Mahmoud Darwish

I came back to the apartment around 5pm and we all went out for a walk around the neighborhood that took us over to the grave of Mahmoud Darwish. Darwish is one of, if not the most famous Palestinian poet of the modern age, playing a critical role in the development of ‘poetry of resistance.’ I didn’t know who he was and when I asked, the reaction was exactly the same as when I asked my friends in Spain who Raul (the famous footballer for Real Madrid) was. This guy is a BIG deal. Ooops. Played the ignorant American card and promised to look for an English translation of his poetry – another on a long list of books I’ve promised to read while I’m here.

There were two guards on duty by his tomb, just sitting on the ground having tea. They recited some of Darweesh’s poetry for us, but it was in Arabic so I didn’t understand. Ah! Can’t wait to go to Beirut next month and start taking classes!! Stephen translated bits of the conversation for me.

Cousin Stephen in front of Mahmoud Darwish's grave

Okay, side-note. It’s hilarious when my family translates Arabic for me. I don’t understand anything that’s being said to me, but they seem to assume that I’m understanding everything except for a few very specific details, so they’ll just translate a word or two, or tell me who a person is that was mentioned in the conversation. It’s hilarious. Basically, I hear: alkdsjflkasjdflkjaslkdfjaksj asjdlkfjaslkfjklasjdf and eventually someone turns to me and whispers, “That means ‘green.’ Oh, and Lena is Mariam’s cousin.” So the only thing I take away from the 30 minute conversation is that at some point in the middle of all the aksfjklasjdflajsfkldjalskjfdakl, something that may or may not be significant is or was green, and Mariam has a cousin named Lena. I have found it’s better to just smile and nod along with the conversation, pretending I understand and hoping against hope that no one asks me any questions.

After a lot of curious questioning later, I did find out that the guards speaking to us were both refugees from a village that’s now part of Israel.  One had been in jail from the age of 15-20 for trying to cross the border to visit his family, who he hadn’t and still hasn’t seen in years. Here, people’s stories are so intense – I can’t imagine living out your whole life through war and under occupation. It’s horrible. I don’t know how they don’t walk around fuming mad all the time, but everyone I’ve met so far has been so wonderful – nice, happy, open. It’s remarkable. They always want to share their stories and it can be a bit overwhelming. I’ve discovered that I’m more emotional than Uncle George – he takes in the stories calmly, asking intelligent questions while I find myself crying, enraged, and/or frustrated.

After that, we just walked around a bit before heading home for some fresh cherries (my stomach has finally adjusted to the local fruit. So relieved!) and chatting.

*Random fact about Ramallah – the Mayor since 2005 is Janet Michael, the first woman to hold that position. Maabruk (Congratulations) Janet!

Mayor of Ramallah - Janet Michael

Viva Palestine!

We’re in Palestine!! This is so amazing!!! We’re chilling in Ramallah in George and Mariam’s apartment. Cousin Stephen is here with us as well – he came in from Beirut this morning to conduct research for books he’s writing - one on Arab photography and the other on Islamophobia*. Meanwhile, George and Mariam will be meeting with their editor who’s going to help them finish up their latest film for Al Jazeera.

Getting here was definitely an adventure. What should be a 1 1/2 hour drive, becomes a 6+ hour ordeal thanks to what feel like dozens of checkpoints.

I’ll begin at the beginning. After we got Stephen from the airport, we drove to the Jordanian border with Israel.  Checkpoint #1, Jordanian military guys checked our passports. They actually know George and Mariam because they cross the border so much for work. They were friendly, and basically just let us drive right through.

Drive for 15 minutes or so and…Jordanian checkpoint #2! Everyone out of the car, all the bags through a scanner, inside to get visas. Not too long of a wait, but it’s over 100 degrees outside, so it feels a bit longer. Everyone piles back in the car.

Drive for a few minutes and now Israeli checkpoint #1! Pull into a parking spot while Israeli military people ask LOTS of questions. That takes about 30-45 minutes.

Drive for about 2 minutes and now Israeli checkpoint #2! This time out of the car for more questions. Who is your father? Who is your grandfather? (Lucky for me my father and paternal grandfather have Irish last names, so I was asked fewer questions than I would have if I’d had to give the Lebanese surnames of Saddic and Azar from Mom’s side) Next up was a list of every Arab country, and a string of questioning centered around whether or not I’ve been to any of these countries and why I was there? And then she asked all the questions again. I have no idea why. I just answered dutifully. But she didn’t stamp my passport. So I can still travel to Lebanon – score! This whole process took about 30-45 minutes per person. There were 4 of us.

Next up….you guessed it – Israeli checkpoint #3! Now you take everything out of the car again, scan it and wait in a small room with your bags while they search your car and hold your passports. That took about an hour. Very hot, sticky and smelly. The car was cleared, yay! Now we wait in line to get insurance or a permit or something, so that we could legally drive the car in Israel.

And finally, we’re out! We made it through!!

Crossing into Israel, you’d have no idea there was a water shortage in the region – sprinklers are watering large fields, massive orchards of palm trees (which, admittedly don’t need much water). It really was beautiful. Then you drive into the Palestinian territories, and the water shortage is quite apparent. Parched earth abounds. But that’s another story for another time.

What’s ridiculous is passing by signs that read Jericho, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, etc. !!! These are cities I always read about in history books, and now I’m actually here!!

Graffiti on the Palestinian side of the wall

We drove past the apartheid wall and into Ramallah around 7pm. This city is amazing. Gritty and pulsing with energy, it’s a far cry from calm, clean-cut Amman.  I love it! We were all starving so we went out for dinner at this fun place in the city center. The place was full and bustling, red table cloths, Fairuz playing on the stereo, and a dinner of grilled chicken with sumac, hummus and pita bread for dinner. HEAVEN!

View from George and Mariam's apartment in Ramallah

After dinner, it was back to the apartment for bed. What a day, huh?? I’m going to sleep in Palestine!

*Stephen has since published his book Islamophobia: The Ideological Campaign Against Muslims if you want to check it out.

Too many cherries…

Zaatar

I woke up around 10:30 am after a semi-restless night – hoorah for jet lag, huh? George and I had eggs with zattar (a spice made of dried thyme, oregano, toasted sesame seeds, salt and cumin), shankleesh (a wonderfully strong cheese), pita bread, fresh cherries and Arabic coffee for breakfast. It was delicious and I was starving so I wolfed it all down pretty quickly.

Shankleesh

Mariam’s mother came in a bit later and I sat out on the porch and talked to her while she smoked her Gauloises cigarettes – a habit she unashamedly admits hasn’t killed her yet and if it does, whatever, it makes her happy. She’s German so she speaks English with a slight accent, but she’s completely fluent and having been married to a Palestinian man for so many years, she speaks Arabic as well. Definitely an interesting character.

Problem is, while I was talking to her, I started to feel a little queasy. Finally, after about an hour and a half, I had to excuse myself and bolted down to my bathroom where stayed for over an hour….

Damn those cherries. They were so perfect, so juicy, and just bursting with flavor and I fell for it. What a moron.

After that uncomfortable episode, I felt a little better, took some pepto bismal and munched on pretzels for the rest of the afternoon. Lots of lying on the couch clutching my stomach. Eventually, the medicine or the pretzels or lack of fresh fruit in my stomach helped, and I started to feel a little better. Will be sticking to a bland diet for the next few days…

Aunt Mariam

Around 4:30pm, I went downstairs to see Mariam (George’s wife) who had just gotten home from running errands in Amman all morning. We chatted and she introduced me to her ELEVEN cats. Having this many cats around, as much as I like cats, can be a little creepy. Most aren’t that friendly, but there are two brand new baby kittens and I am determined to train them to like snuggles before I leave.

Max and Morris - The two new kittens

Kousa

The lazy day rolled by, and before I knew it George and I were eating grape leaves and kousa (stuffed zucchini) with yogurt for dinner. After our delicious feast, we headed upstairs to watch Al-Jazeera English, which included a piece that George and Mariam had made about a Lebanese cartoonist who recently made a clay-mation film about daily life in Beirut. I loved it! Snacked on tabouli (resisted cherries) while chatting with George and Mariam before heading down to my room for bed.