Travelling the Wadi Rum Desert: Katy and our Bedouin Guide
High School Flashback: Basketball Clinic for Baqaa Girls
Arts and Crafts Mailed From Mom: Ban and Jeelan Kidnap Me
Carnivale at Baqaa: King Mohammed
Peace in Zaatari: New Girls’ Sports Program
And.. that’s all! Sorry for disappearing. Can’t promise I won’t do it again, but I am going to try to resume my good blogging skills this Eid vacation!
Bethlehem – Palestine
Soccer practice in Zaatari
This week, I heard a beautiful song called ya atfal al 3lim or “Oh Children of the World.” Apparently, its a very famous song – as the story goes a young Syrian girl named Hala sang it in Arabic, Italian, Turkish, Spanish.. you name it.. at the United Nations. Everyone here was surprised I had not heard it before.
I’m not sure if an English version exists – but after hearing it sung at Zaatari Camp this week by a young Syrian from Deraa, I have fallen in love with the song. Though its much more beautiful in Arabic/Italian, with help from a friend, the translation is below – along with some pictures from Zaatari.
Sing with us for our childhood,
oh children of the world
With your happiness and our happiness,
we build the world’s glory
We are from the homeland of freedom,
and we call you from Syria.
oh children of the world
Let’s call to those older than us,
our future is in your hands
So that no one forgets about us – and protects us
Until we grow up like a green branch,
a grain of wheat becomes a whole field,
and our knowledge becomes larger,
Oh children of the world
Do not forget the children deprived – in every country occupied
Or children living oppressed
Or a tear burning in his eye
No to hunger and no to injustice
No to despair and no to fear
No to ignorance and no to violence
around the world
Oh Children of the World
Finally, some happy pictures from younger sister and older (slightly) brother.
Palestine, my name is Palestine.
I carved my name on all the places.
The letters of my name talk to me and call me free.
And my name is letters, and letters are my name.
– Palestinian song, I am Palestine
My name is Selselbeel and I am 13 years old. My family is from Palestine [Palestine, land of Jerusalem and dreams; oh the land of Palestine, from which the Prophet ascended to the skies above; you who all hearts love]. Palestine means all hope to me.
We were forced out of our land, where we used to live, eat, and drink. Here in Jordan, we are looked at as Palestinians. They make us live in a disgusting environment (Palestinians and Jordanians). Here in Jordan, they make Palestinians pay fees and even in my country, Palestine, people do not live in safety. In my country, where the strong control the weak, the Israelis have always occupied us and occupied our homes. We enter our home by permit; we leave our homes by permit. One doesn’t live with security. They uproot orange trees from your sweet land, oh Palestine, and they change your name.
Oh Jerusalem, our beloved, whoever defends you is killed; they don’t remain alive. Tell us, why don’t we have freedom?
The elderly in Palestine are assassinated. When I hear my elders talk about Palestine, I become sad because I cannot go there and see all the places. They talk about Palestine and all the crises. (The Israelis) have named it after themselves; they’ve said it has been theirs since the beginning.
(They’ve done this) because they have no place, no country of their own to live in; they’ve done this because of the mountain, which they call Mount Zion. They used to break into our homes; they take from us the books of Palestinian history. There is no freedom for us.
Do you know anything about Palestine’s Nakba, which happened in 1948? And also (do you know) that the Nakba was the strong killing the weak? There was no security for us. They broke into our homes and took the men to prisons.
There were many victims. Among them was Handala (Naji Ali). He was 9 years old when we left Palestine. He was fighting Israelis with drawing and art. The date he was born is the Nakba, and his mothers name is the Nakba; he does not have a father or an identity. People named him Handala (bitterness). He was assassinated before the first Intifada (1987) and people still consider him a child until this time.
Another of the victims was Hassan Salama, who fought the Israelis with song, and destroyed their schemes. Those are some of the victims.
Here in Jordan, when I go to school, I see there are no wars like Palestine’s. And (I see that) the mother in Palestine, when she says goodbye to her children, feels like she will be seeing them for the last time.
(Here in Jordan), there is no one who cares about you, oh Palestine, who is my country, country of peace and olives.
Oh Jerusaleum, oh my city, oh child of burnt fingers,
Oh city that is full of sorrows,
Who will wash the blood out of the stones of your walls?
My country, country, of peace and olives.
http://www.panarabiaenquirer.com/
Go check it out, immediately. Its an satire news site (like the Onion) but based on the Middle East. Its actually hilarious.. here are a few headlines to give you a taste:
– Obama Promises Syria Intervention Should Assad Use Death Star
– Israel to Gift Obama Villa in West Bank Settlement
– Fresh Middle East Crisis as Guyana Declares Jerusalem its Capital
– Man Wraps Up Successful Mission to Regain the Trust of People to Which He Gives 3 Billion a Year
Right? Classic. Again I’m reminded how clever satire is – how aptly and effectively it points out the ridiculous things about our society. Needless to say, their is plenty of room for that in US/Middle East politics!
I’ve been so bad about blogging lately.. its actually unreal. Have I mentioned yet that I started a student blog for the Orphan Welfare Association in Baqaa? Anyway, check it out (I’ve been decent about blogging on that platform)… http://thebaqaatimes.wordpress.com/
The Baqa’a Times is our OWA student blog. It has students’ writings (English and Arabic) and photos. The idea is to empower the students – giving them a platform to present their work, their Association, and their community. I also occasionally contribute stories about our activities. For example, the most recent post on “Rap and Graffiti” … our latest Friday program :)
If you get a chance, peruse the site. The OWA (and Baqa’a in general) remains to be my favorite place in Jordan.. and a big piece of my heart.
I feel like a proud mom when I think about it (I hate that I even just wrote that, gosh I’m old)… but really I can’t help but think: look, look, see powerfully Selselbeel wrote about her family? Look, look see what insights Hashem captured with his photos? Look, look can you believe little Ban memorized poetry about Palestine? Look, look how big are they smiling?
I hate that I’m here, far away, when tragedy strikes at home. I couldn’t believe it when I saw the news. Don’t you all worry about me? I live in the Middle East. Now I worry about you… Its not supposed to be this other way around, and I hardly even knew how to think about it. I’m so thankful I could talk to you all and al hamdulileh everyone is safe.
As we worried and refreshed online news pages, all Nadine and I kept muttering to each other was wow, the world is a terrible place. There is so much sadness and violence and war burdening this region that we are constantly reminded of. Then from home, a supposedly safe place, these random acts of destruction and terrorism occur. Again, our hearts ache.
Outside of that thought, there wasn’t much to say. Yet as almost an afterthought we reflected, god I hope it wasn’t an Arab.
I’ve seen that sentiment tossed up on different twitter feeds and newsites, please don’t be an Arab or a Muslim, and as I hear stories like the Saudi student who was tackled fleeing the explosion or the two man escorted off the airplane after speaking in Arabic, the hope is even stronger.
The next step was to hope that the perpetrator was not a lunatic who would become the new face of a billion people. Not a murderer who would further fan the flames of Islamophobia.
Not an animal who would obstruct the ability of thousands of students to complete their educations in the United States. Not an extremist who would maim and hurt the very people who were still recovering from the pain of Sept. 11.
President Obama and Gov. Deval L. Patrick have shown great restraint in their words and have been careful not to accuse an entire people for what one madman may have done. But others might not be so kind.
– NY Times
Whoever did this was a monster. I don’t want to “hope” anything about them. Maybe a better way to say this, I am sad and angry. I hope whoever did this gets caught, gets punished, and gets everything that is coming to him/her for this terrible act. But I hope we don’t fall back on fear, hate, or stereotyping because of our anger and sadness.
To close, a more positive note. I was surprised by the outpouring of love from friends here this week. You know, when I introduce myself here, I always tell people I’m from Boston. So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when I got calls, messages, and texts on Tuesday from my local friends… they were checking in, seeing if kul shay tamam – making sure my family/friends are safe, expressing condolences, seeing if I needed anything or wanted to talk.
Solidarity is a beautiful thing. I guess its something that contradicts the feeling Nadine and I couldn’t shake Monday night.. the world is a terrible place.
But as Nadine later reflected, I guess all we can do is keep trying to do good by each other – and hope that we all feel for each other and can take care of each other when tragedy does strike.
“We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We’d have eaten ourselves alive long ago. So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think,
The good outnumber you, and we always will.”
Julie in Jordan! 