Female Slam Poetry in Jordan

Nadine, as per usual, writes a compelling piece about Jordanian women in Amman’s Spoken Word scene.

Its further proof of Jordan’s confusing identity; the reality of so many different types of people and lifestyles darting across this region that make it impossible to speak about Jordan – the Middle East – or Arabs in any sweeping generalizations.

As tonight’s poetry reading draws to a close, Aysha speaks her own manifesto of youth. The emotion is raw, but no one looks away as her piece crescendos.

“It was my friends who hugged their canvases and wept for brothers killed in the doom of Arab revolution, and guilted over the fire exit of their breath,” she raps, her words echo within the narrow walls.

“But I still have my dictators falling, as the Arab Spring fireworks into a festive autumn. So for all I care me and my friends are the sunrise.”

Read all here —> Jordan’s Underground Female Slam Poetry Scene

Girl Talk is my small game.

You all know Nadine in some way or the other. I’ve either rambled about her in stories over skype or posted her videos and quotes on various social media plaforms. Nadine has officially filled many roles in my life: confidante, roommate, best friend. Sometimes I feel like if I think something, and I don’t say it out loud to Nadine, its almost like I didn’t think it.

Most recently, we added a new relationship to the list: colleagues! Yes, that’s right – we now work together too. In fact for the last 2 months, we both shared one desk because office space was tight. Really, the best way to illustrate our relationship would be the following story: Nadine, skyping with a friend from home, introduces me. “This is Julie. She’s…..(my friend? my roommate? my colleague?)…..She’s like my arm.”

Anyway, al muhim is that Nadine has so many wise words – I could start a whole other blog cataloguing all of them. She’s a self proclaimed sap ( “Its ok to feel.” ) and has the biggest heart of anyone I know.

And as mentioned above, girl talk is her small game. I figured I would share one of her best quotes – the one she always tosses out as we deal with the ups and downs of life abroad – relationships – work – decisions – and of course, the future.

 

 

 

 

 

You can read more wise words from Nadine here:  http://theviewfromamman.wordpress.com/

By Selselbeel

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.

How did I just find out about this website?

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!

The Baqa’a Times

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?

The Revolution is Being Televised

A powerful mini-documentary about media activists in Homs, Syria.. if you have 25 minutes to spare, definitely worth a view.

Now whenever I see films like this, I think of Nadine – who a) was the first to share this on her blog and b) always says that a video is the best way to tell a story. People respond to videos, and we are reminded of the people’s faces that are often hidden behind a larger story.

“A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a statistic”

Take a minute to read the above story — from a beautiful new project focused on telling the stories of Syrian refugees in Jordan. Lend them your ears, and your hearts: http://voicemiddleeast.wordpress.com/

Voice

To my dear city, Homs, do you know how much hope and despair you have created in me?!

Do you know that you are the only pain in my heart? For you are my home that I was born in, where I grew up, lived, and fed from its land. I keep blaming myself for leaving you, my dear Homs, you are my beloved home and the special place in my heart. The only phrase that makes me patient and helps me endure what has happened to you is that of “God is Great”, for He is the only one with the power to protect you. Tell me, how do I eat and not eat from your land? How do I sleep when I am far away from your warmth? Oh, my beloved country; when will we return to you? Our longing and yearning for you is burning inside us…when…

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