Until Then!

They say it’s hard to say goodbye, but I think what’s hard is saying it when you know you’ll be away for so long. One thing I’ve realized at an early age is that life in the territories is a life I’ve chosen for myself. A life I want. But, I don’t think we always get what we want. Part of the challenge of life is the ability to be patient during the times we don’t want.

Although I am still in transition from one continent to another, I still have not settled. As a Palestinian, I am not allowed to exit the territories unless its through Jordan. So, I left to Jordan, from Jordan I headed to NY. Then another flight to FL. After spending a day in FL the family had planned a trip to MI to see more family, so I tagged along. After MI, back to FL, then off to DC to start my semester at American University. Ahhhhh… Saying that alone was exhausting, could you imagine experiencing it?

DC will be yet another adventure, and all we can do is hope and pray for the best. Until then!

Sweet as Honey

I guess the beauty of life is truly to ignore any negativity and put an extreme amount of energy to concentrating on the positive. In view of being debilitatingly sick, a shaky relationship with my grandma, and just feeling like life is closing its doors in my face; I remember I’m in Palestine. Palestine in my view is one of the most magical places in the world. Its weather is sensational, its people are so hurt, and anyone here feels like they can contribute to change. Unfortunately, change is so difficult to revive in the territories.

As I write this I am sitting on a cold step on the staircase in front of the Science building at Birzeit University. My iPod is blasting with Fairuz tunes; I have an Arabic coffee in my hand, and looking at one of the most remarkable scenes here. Does life get any better than this? My father always says “Life is what you make it, so it can be bitter or it can be as sweet as honey.”

With the attitude of sweet honey, I feel like I am on top of the world. The sky is definitely my only limit, and I can tackle this cold world. Regardless, I am in Palestine. I am in the heart of the Middle East, I am happy here.

"The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don't go back to sleep." Rumi

It’s the time of year I usually love. The wind blowing so hard, and the weather so chilly. I don’t know what it is, but there is something about the cold weather that gets me. It’s almost like it gives way to this prepetual sadnness in the air that tends to make things so meaningful. Everything in the cold weather has meaning, a romantic setting with a loved one, family reunions, and even a lonely walk at night.

Yet, in all this admiration of the chilly weather and rainy nights, one must recognize the place one is experiencing the weather in. For me, its Palestine. You know, things here just have a different taste, different smell, different everything. Life is so simple here, people enjoy every breath of fresh air. My mother once said “Hata nismet el hawa neama fee Falesteen;” which basically translates into “even the breeze of wind is a blessing in Palestine.” I definitely hold that saying so true to my heart. Even the breeze of wind, is…. A blessing!

A taste of Palestine

Political instability, economic deprivation, and social injustice are the tree descriptive phrases illustrating the Palestinian society’s state of being. The biggest downfall is when you walk through the streets of Ramallah and see the effects of such phrases on the faces of people. I’ve never witnessed so many frustrated people all bugled up together in such a small amount of land.

I came here with the hopes of spending time with my amazing fiancé, Mohammad, my beautiful grandmother “Sito Im Nader”, and finishing up a MA in the meantime in Economics at Birzeit University. Unfortunately destiny takes us on so many roller coasters whether we are prepared or not, and I had some registration issues with Birzeit, and will be unable to continue the degree here. The pleasant aspect of it all is that I have registered for courses here and have taken them as a nondegree student. It has been very interesting; Birzeit is Palestine’s most prestigious University. On one hand I have had the chance to experience is this institution along with spending time in the most remarkable spots in the world, Palestine.

I am now completing my sixth month here in the territories, and I don’t want it to ever end. Every breath is so precious here. I am and will always be madly in love with the Occupied Palestinian territories.

Falesteen 3ala Balee

One of my favorite poets and philosophers, Rumi, once said “"The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don't go back to sleep.” Every time I read that verse, my mind races to the occupied lands. Being Palestinian and living in the beloved Palestine demonstrates why people have fought for this land for 6o years, it is by far the greatest place in the world. As I write this I am sitting on the rooftop of my childhood home, as many Palestinian American families my family decided to build a home to raise their children in. We lived in our home town Silwad, the west Bank for over seven years and left shortly after the second intifada.

Every summer each of my seven brothers and sisters attempt to make it out to the territories. This summer I was grateful to have the chance to be here, unfortunately once you’re in Silwad you never want to leave. All the ambition of continuing one’s education, and belief that a doctoral degree and graduate school is of utmost importance, all disappears. Instead, all that is important is finding a small beat up ancient home, with land on a beautiful mountain, and vowing to spend one’s life in peace. Ahhhh…. Falesteen 3ala balee. (Palestine is on my mind.)

Another Chapter in Life

The ride home from one of the lowest points in the world is what brought the idea home. We were on our way back from the Dead Sea, when I realize my short lived life in Amman is over. What can I say? Enjoyable times end far too quickly. I learned a lot in these past 6 months, from dealing with refugees of different nationalities to dealing with pompous students and international organization representatives to grading essays and teaching courses. These past six months taught me far too much about myself, and about the sad reality of life.

Most people that know me know that I lean toward pessimism. Not because I am a depressed person, or lack the attention from loved ones, but I guess because I see life for what it is. I believe life is a beautiful thing, but unfortunately some of its components ruin its overall appeal. As a Palestinian the devastation of my people’s existence and history is a wound that will never heal. As a Muslim the unfortunate hijacking of my religion is as painful as a stab to the heart. And the overall nostalgia of people around me in reference to current events is beyond repair.

In the midst of all of this thinking and pondering about life, I pack my belongings from a life I have lived for the past six months to a relaxing semi-vacation in the occupied lands of Palestine. Along with my Calculus book, and Microeconomics hardback as my companions, SILWAD HERE I COME!

“Mukhayam Gaza” 3alaa balee [Camp Gaza is on my mind]

The best way to get there is via bus. Otherwise you’re in for an adventure of constantly getting lost on the way. The bus was filled with people who were so simple. Everyone either held a newspaper or a little child in their lap. Only 55 cents to get there, they basically offered the ride for free. It costs me more money to get around in Amman, then to drive up in a bus to the city of ruins, Jerash.

The ride was so pleasant. Beautiful Fairuz on the radio, and the lush scenery of green grass and mountains; what more can I ask for? My eyes caught those of an older man sitting under an olive tree right outside the “Mukhayam.” He just stared at me, no emotion. I couldn’t help but wonder. I mean, how hard does life have to be for one to be so emotionless? I could just imagine what he’s gone through. He has probably witness 1948 and its gruesome effects. He must have seen 1967 and the vast sweep of Palestinian lands. He must have witness 87, and 2000. He must have stories and stories to tell. I could imagine how much he has to say, but no energy to begin to explain. Ahh… life

We finally got there. All the buses were labeled “Mukhayam Gaza.” As we arrived students swarmed passed us, they had just been released from school. I watched as they were running, laughing, and teasing each other. They all seemed so accustomed to the camp. They could care less about how dirty the roads were, or how the streets had open sewers. They didn’t seem to mind the downgraded quality of infrastructure and the lack of protection awarded to the camp by local police.

We finally arrived at the UNRWA school. Thanks to Dana, we got there in one piece. She obviously has come here before. She knew all the teachers, and the guards. She was saying hello left and right. Yet, throughout the whole process she was explaining everything to me. I admired everything about her; her light hearted humor, her knowledge of the camp, her warm spirit. She was what many would term “A BALLER.” Thanks to Dana an English program has been established for the residents of the camp. She has established a 0-6 level English course, and has provided teachers with the material. I will begin teaching this Saturday! And am ecstatic about the ordeal. Thank you DANA!

Frustration to the Extreme

The road is bumpy, and all I hear is the taxi driver with his “Ya allah, zeeh ya zalameh… shoo? El share la abook wila meen?” Which basically translates into “Oh God, move man…What? Is the street owned by your father?” This is the typical taxi ride in Amman. Something replicated all across the Arab world, specifically my dear Rammallah; frustrated cab drivers, cigarette smoking, cursing Arabs.

We live in an age where the frustrated Arab population is quieted by the covert investigations of the secret services, along with the fear among corrupt politicians for the loss of their comfortable seats. Whether in Cairo, Masqat, or even Amman; people are angry and pissed off. Many blame it on the economy, but is that the full story?

In an age where over 10 million Palestinians live outside of their precious lands, and more than half (approximately 5.2 million) living in the Diaspora. Yes, the Diaspora… Its definitely not an exotic Island off of the coast of the Mediterranean, rather it is a number of beat up, poorly kept, inadequate, and unhealthy living conditions of refugee camps. It is Sabra and Shatila, Qana, Jerash, Baqaa, Yarmuk, Latakia, Hims…… and the list goes on.

A local lebaneese paper reported on frustrated youth in the camps of Lebnan. A group of Palestinian refugees gather to use rap as their only tool to voice their frustration. "As young Palestinians, we reach a point where we stop school and there's nothing in front of you. No work. You reach a level where your mind is lost," said 22-year-old Amro, who goes by the moniker "C4" (a type of explosive). Amro is part of a rap group consisting of Palestinian refugees Like many young Palestinian refugees in Lebanon, most of the men are not educated beyond middle school, and are poor and unemployed. The groups first album is called “Welcome to the Camps.”

http://yalibnan.com/site/archives/2007/10/young_rappers_v.php

Whether it’s Amnesty International urging governments to make changes, or it’s our charismatic Obama smiling to the cameras with his famous “We want Change.” These refugees and frustrated taxi drivers know deep down, that hope and change far from existing in their world.

Meet My Friend Sakhar!!!

Meet my friend Sakhar! He loves playing video games, and coloring. He loves soccer, and his favorite team is Germany. He says that if it were up to him to decide, Germany is the only team with legitimacy to play the sport. Sakhar hates hospitals. He doesn’t like closed doors, because it gets too isolated. He’s scared of falling asleep, especially when he’s sick. He hates elevators; he thinks they are unnecessary especially when you have a mom that can hold you up the stairs. :) But most of all Sakhar loves super heroes, and wants to be one when he grows up.

Sakhar was born with a very rare heart condition. He has what medical professionals call Pulmonary Artesia. Basically, in English, he was born without the major arteries attached to his heart. His brave little body created arteries out of small veins, which are now doing the work needed to survive. The problem is these veins are weak and cannot pump enough blood to his heart. If Sakhar does not get the appropriate medical attention needed, he will not survive. If we are lucky he may live to see his twenties, but he will lose most of his mental capacity due to the lack of oxygen reaching his brain. In fact, Sakhar’s little sister died at the age of nine months from the same condition. Anyone who sees Sakhar recognizes that he is a miracle!

Since Sakhar’s family is unable to pay for any of the procedures needed, Collateral Repair stepped in. Sasha, a beautiful woman who has been dedicated to the Iraqi population since the war, was able to raise funds so that Sakhar can have a Cardiac Cath procedure. This procedure would allow doctors to assess exactly what can be done for Sakhar. The Cath procedure took up most of the day. The down fall is that after this procedure, we may either get great news or devastating news. Hopefully it will be positive news, so that our little soldier Sakhar will live to see his grandchildren. I hope that when Sakhar’s life flashes before his eyes, he had lived long enough to fulfill every one of his dreams.

Collateral Repair Website http://www.collateralrepairproject.org/
Collateral Repair Blog http://www.collateralrepairproject.blogspot.com/

Refugees International ... http://www.refugeesinternational.org/iraq-release

With the recent massacre that took place in the Gaza strip the world seems to devote their attention back to the Palestinian cause. It seems that every now and them Israel is worried the world has forgotten about it's countless humanitarian violations that it decides to remind the world that Palestinians will be hunted down regardless of what headlines have taken up the news.

Yet, when it comes to current affairs the international community seems to be capable of only handling one political problem at a time. This means that although there are thousands of displaced Iraqis, the attention is on the Palestinians for now. As it was in 2003, regardless of the number of displaced and murdered Palestinians the attention was on Iraq.

For this reason, I hope people who are concerned about struggles in the world as a whole are capable of remaining dedicated to the people who need international attention the most. Refugee International is an NGO that has been trying to consistently draw people's attention to Refugees around the world. The bulk of their work revolves around Iraqi Refugees, but they also do work with refugees throughout the world. As a Palestinian, it would be ideal if they did more work with Palestinians but I think their work is absolutely amazing.

There newest campaign is urging people to send letters to newly elected President Obama asking him not to forget the plight of the Iraqi people. Check the link out, and please participate!!
http://www.refugeesinternational.org/iraq-release

My Heart Hurts

For some reason most acts of kindness are looked as an act to replicate the work of Mother Teresa. I couldn’t help but think of her the other day while visiting a family in one of the poverty stricken neighborhoods in Amman called “Al-Wahdat.” This area is known for its extremely congested population, mostly Palestinian.

The family we visited was an Iraqi one, originally from Baghdad. They lived in what I would call a hell hole. I hate to use such gruesome terms, but to be honest I can not think of any other phrase that can illustrate the conditions of their home. The husband was an old man who had extreme arthritis; it seemed to have taken over his fingers, knees, and feet. He also has back problems, and a harsh cough. Every few minutes he lit up a new cigarette, and when I asked why he was such a heavy smoke he simply said that “these cigarettes are his only friends in this harsh world.” The mother knit what she can, and try to sell whatever she can. She explained how working is illegal in Jordan for people without a work visa or residence. Both of her sons work, although one of her sons lost the tip of four of his fingers in a meat chopping machine. She says although his health has been rough, they need to work. Most of their work is under the table, which gives employers the upper hand in threats of deportation, and the flexibility of pay.

I sat there listening to their stories. I watched as a proud Iraqi man tried to hold back is tears. The wife kept saying “life after the war is a humiliating one; we are required to beg for assistance.” I sat there helpless, not knowing what it is I can offer. I realized that I was even unable to offer my tears; I just could not seem to cry. The only explanation I can give to how I felt was that my heart was being held and squeezed. It seemed to hurt so badly, and all I can do is sit there and stare at the sad faces of this family. Of course all they tried to do in exchange was smile, and welcome us so modestly into their home. But that feeling did not escape. That hand still held my heart, and the squeeze seemed to continue with greater force as we visited more and more families. I guess mother Teresa had her work cut out for her. How she was able to do it, and still keep going I can not explain.

A different kind of Valentine's Day

In the midst of a region that many dismiss as a troubled one with constant wars and political instability; Jordan stands as one of the more politically and economically stable countries in the Middle East. Its stability marks an attraction for the influx of refugees from neighboring troubled countries. Jordan currently houses over 500,000 Iraqi refugees, and over 2 million Palestinian refugees. Many of these refugees live in impoverished conditions with little to hope for, and much to worry about at a daily basis. Believe it or not, Valentine's Day can be a day to forget some of the harsh realities life brings. It can be a day one takes advantage of to put a smile on the faces of those in need.

It is a holiday that dates back to Roman times. Experts state that it originated from St. Valentine, a Roman who was martyred for refusing to give up Christianity. He died on February 14, 269 A.D., the same day that had been devoted to love lotteries. Legend says that St.Valentine was in love with his jailer's daughter. Before his execution, he left her a note and signed it "From Your Valentine".

Today the holiday represents a little more than heart shaped pillows colored red, and pretty red chocolate boxes. Some people consider it to be the day they celebrate a romantic love in their life, while others take advantage of the pretty red hearts for those special people in their lives. For most it tends to represent a day to exchange a token of affection to someone special in one's life. A few generous people felt that using this holiday to bring smiles to refugees located in Amman would represent the most rewarding token of all.

Sasha, and Maha are two friends who have realized the devastating conditions many Iraqi refugees live in and decided to do something about it. They were able to gather a decent amount of donations from westerners who wanted to give back to a nation they felt they owed. With these donations the two women constantly pay house visits to refugees trying to accommodate their needs, whether it be groceries, school supplies, or just a shoulder to cry on.

In order to celebrate the holiday the best they knew how, the two paid a visit to the markets in downtown Amman. With a few dinars and an appetite for shopping they gathered toys, stickers, school supplies, party decorations, teddy bears, and of course some heart shaped chocolates. They made a few calls to families with children under the age of 12 years old, and arranged to have a Valentine's party on Saturday February 14th. Once the clock hit 2 pm, children ran through the doors of Maha's apartment, all were ready to have the celebration begin.

The party had everything the kids needed to enjoy themselves. There was the traditional pin the tale on the donkey game, musical chairs, and of course coloring Valentine's cards. Yet, the children were not the only ones who enjoyed the fun, the mothers decided to participate in the games as well, putting a smile on everyone's face. The women also made sure to prepare goody bags so that the children had something to remember the day with.

With all the cruelty this world may bring sometimes, simple gestures seem to make it all worth while. Maha and Sasha both say that seeing these smiles on the children's faces is what makes them do what they do. It is the motivation to keep them both hoping for a better, and more peaceful world. As Allan K Chambers once said, "The Grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for."

It Takes Two to Tango

Since the Hamas victory in the 2005/2006 elections, the tensions between political factions in the territories has been at its worst. Most Palestinians, prior to the tension, usually affiliated themselves to one of the factions. I remember as a kid the common question asked was whether one considered himself a “Fatahwee” (supporters of the Fatah movement, formerly known as the PLO) or a “Hamsawee” (supporters of the Hamas movement). But after the election, the tension was not limited to a question and some disagreements on each parties politics. The tension became violent and disgraceful. The tension spread through the streets as Palestinian was capable of killing his fellow Palestinian, since they were not supporters of the same faction.

I recall my summer work with the Ministry of Planning in 2007, when the tension even spread within the government. That summer was a memorable one, as we witness a calling of Marshall Law by no other than our commander and Chief, Mahmoud Abas. The ministry witnessed the change of 3 different ministers within the span of 2 months. It got so ridiculous that one morning we were going about our work until we heard gun shots, and puck-up trucks parking around the ministry. Within the blink of an eye, Fatah led Militia men walked in with their guns and pointed them at us, I remember wanting to hit the young man with his so called “powerful gun.” They dragged out women and men that were supporters of the Hamas movement. Proud Palestinian woman were dragged out by their headscarves and spat at. Men were hit and humiliated in front of their colleagues. All for the sake of political diversity of thought!

Of course Fatah is not the only bad guy. Hamas committed its own share of violence and humiliation of their rival movement Fatah. I was fortunate enough not to witness more bloodshed and disgrace performed by Palestinians toward their brethren. But the media has reported a fair share of the faults of both sides.

Yet now, with all the bloodshed and destruction that has hit Gaza. We still see the same voices of tension among the factions. Yes, some say we are united. We are all united in the face of the occupation and the enemy! But in all actuality any sane individual with some recognition of the progress going on in the Occupied Palestinian Territories, can see that its nothing but rhetoric. I hope, as I know many Palestinians do as well, to see change within the ranks of the Palestinian factions.

What You Don’t Know About Gaza

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By RASHID KHALIDI
Published: January 7, 2009

NEARLY everything you’ve been led to believe about Gaza is wrong. Below are a few essential points that seem to be missing from the conversation, much of which has taken place in the press, about Israel’s attack on the Gaza Strip.
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Ronald J. Cala II


THE GAZANS Most of the people living in Gaza are not there by choice. The majority of the 1.5 million people crammed into the roughly 140 square miles of the Gaza Strip belong to families that came from towns and villages outside Gaza like Ashkelon and Beersheba. They were driven to Gaza by the Israeli Army in 1948.

THE OCCUPATION The Gazans have lived under Israeli occupation since the Six-Day War in 1967. Israel is still widely considered to be an occupying power, even though it removed its troops and settlers from the strip in 2005. Israel still controls access to the area, imports and exports, and the movement of people in and out. Israel has control over Gaza’s air space and sea coast, and its forces enter the area at will. As the occupying power, Israel has the responsibility under the Fourth Geneva Convention to see to the welfare of the civilian population of the Gaza Strip.

THE BLOCKADE Israel’s blockade of the strip, with the support of the United States and the European Union, has grown increasingly stringent since Hamas won the Palestinian Legislative Council elections in January 2006. Fuel, electricity, imports, exports and the movement of people in and out of the Strip have been slowly choked off, leading to life-threatening problems of sanitation, health, water supply and transportation.

The blockade has subjected many to unemployment, penury and malnutrition. This amounts to the collective punishment — with the tacit support of the United States — of a civilian population for exercising its democratic rights.

THE CEASE-FIRE Lifting the blockade, along with a cessation of rocket fire, was one of the key terms of the June cease-fire between Israel and Hamas. This accord led to a reduction in rockets fired from Gaza from hundreds in May and June to a total of less than 20 in the subsequent four months (according to Israeli government figures). The cease-fire broke down when Israeli forces launched major air and ground attacks in early November; six Hamas operatives were reported killed.

WAR CRIMES The targeting of civilians, whether by Hamas or by Israel, is potentially a war crime. Every human life is precious. But the numbers speak for themselves: Nearly 700 Palestinians, most of them civilians, have been killed since the conflict broke out at the end of last year. In contrast, there have been around a dozen Israelis killed, many of them soldiers. Negotiation is a much more effective way to deal with rockets and other forms of violence. This might have been able to happen had Israel fulfilled the terms of the June cease-fire and lifted its blockade of the Gaza Strip.

This war on the people of Gaza isn’t really about rockets. Nor is it about “restoring Israel’s deterrence,” as the Israeli press might have you believe. Far more revealing are the words of Moshe Yaalon, then the Israeli Defense Forces chief of staff, in 2002: “The Palestinians must be made to understand in the deepest recesses of their consciousness that they are a defeated people.”

Rashid Khalidi, a professor of Arab studies at Columbia, is the author of the forthcoming “Sowing Crisis: The Cold War and American Dominance in the Middle East."

A New Outlook To a Place I’ve Known For a While

Growing up, I was raised to believe that the only road to what some claim as salvation or a better future for the Palestinians is through education. Do not get me wrong I still hold such a principle dear to my heart. But, I think I underestimated how much one can do on the ground, without all the fancy degrees and the artificial way of speech. In fact the majority of what one can do here in the Middle East seems to elaborate the depth of one’s impact, and the beauty of seeing the fruits of one’s labor.

Jordan seems to illustrate the opposite of this so called artificial world, an artificial world that evidently appeared in the west. Here, simplicity is the key of the “sha3bee” class, the local class. Here people tell you how it is, and treat you with sincerity. I never imagined truly appreciating Jordan as I presently am. For so long, growing up, Jordan symbolized the country my family and I merely passed through to reach the West Bank. Since, most Palestinians who possess a Palestinian ID are required to land in Jordan and commute to the West Bank via land. I presume the simplicity I face in Jordan is a result of the work environment I am so blessed to be surrounded with.

The majority of my work deals with Iraqi Refugees present in Jordan fearing persecution and death threats. These refugees are not your typical habitants of Amman; many of them have illegal status in Jordan and for those who have refugee status living situations do not differ much. There lives tend to be excited, for lack of a better word. The children until 2007, were not allowed to attend public schooling. This came as the government feared a backlash from the population. The Jordanian population, which is a mixture of Jordanian and Palestinians, feared that with the large number of Iraqis entering the country the government may spread its resources too thin. Iraqis were not excluded from education alone, but rather this treatment spread throughout the labor sector as well. Most Iraqis who do not hold a working or residential visa are prohibited from working in the country; resulting in devastating financial crisis for the refugee population. Some even receive continuous threats from back home, along with some local threats. I was always tell people, if you really want to know how he majority of Iraqis are living go to the other side of Amman, East Amman. Too often continuous visitors and people who live in Jordan forget that there is another part of Amman, the part that does not have all the fancy malls, and shiny cars.

The other part of my work is what I have grown to love, teaching. I got an offer to teach standardized exams such as the GMAT, GRE, and SAT, at an institution called Amideast (American Middle East Education and Training Services). Although this job also encompasses the concept of philanthropy by its nature, it takes a very different overview than that of the refugee project. Many of my students are professionals, with well paying jobs and lots of ambition for the future. Each of them brings an intellectually stimulating point of view to my class. Although I am limited to material the managerial department provides, I do have the leeway in the choice of passages read along with practice questions. I noticed many of these students are extremely talkative, and have lots of opinions on current events whether it be politically, socially, or financially. I began extracting excerpts from articles in the New York Times dealing with marriage, divorce, gay marriage, boarding schools, the war on Iraq, the war on terror, Obama, the US economy, and the Jordanian social structure. Although I will keep many of the opinions I heard to myself, I am by far fascinated by what these young ambitious minds have to offer this region. Teaching this class reassured my faith in the enlightened and thriving Middle East.

All I can say is, another chapter to a new and exciting adventure. Jordan has so much to offer. And I am a devoted adventurist to what it has in store for me.

A new adventure in a new place

After almost three weeks of being here, I have finally decided to write a bit about my experience. I guess I have a tendency of bugling things up. All in all my experience was pretty interesting. I arrived in Amman on Dec. 26, to a 4 day marathon of meetings. The majority of our meetings were either with the United Nations Higher Commission on Refugees (UNHCR), or different clients the Yale project decided to represent. I guess the meeting them gave me a completely new version of the existence of refugees in Amman.

After 2003, a new influx of Iraqi refugees hit Jordan. Many claim it hit Jordan pretty bad, making its mark on the economy and real estate market. Prices sky rocketed, and certain parts of Amman became overcrowded. The Jordanian population, to some extent, became furious with Iraqis that came in. Many Jordanians claimed that Iraqis came in with way too much money, which shocked the Jordanian economy. Although this may be true for an extreme minority of Iraqis; this is definitely not the case for the majority.

The majority of Iraqis live in what some call the other side of Amman, which is east Amman. East Amman, contrary to the west, is extremely modest in its buildings and residential facilities. It houses many who choose to live a less expensive lifestyle, or those who are forced to live it. East Amman does not only have an Iraqi population, but rather houses a large number of Palestinian refugees along with Jordanians.

So, why am I concentrating must of my work on Iraqis?? How dare I do refugee work, or anything to do with resettlement for Iraqis and not Palestinians???? Well.. Another few facts people don’t know about the Iraqi refugee population in the Arab disapora, specifically in Jordan. Most Iraqis’ immigration status prohibits them from working. Their children do not have a right of education. The government has recently tried to change the education restriction of the Iraqi youth, but many claim it’s a bit too late. Most students have missed out on a few years of schooling and do not feel that they can jump into a classroom being that they will be much older than the rest of the students. And lastly, since many Iraqis have some form of illegal statuses in Jordan many crimes against the population go unreported for fear of deportation. Although the government claims that deportation is non-existent in the Jordanian Kingdom the refugees claim otherwise.

I guess all these problems, and chaos along with the Israel’s immoral massacre against the Palestinian population in the Gaza Strip, makes me totally lose interest in hope for humanity. Current events only encourage the pessimist in me to come out!

REST IN PEACE BEAUTIFUL, YOU WILL BE MISSED

Too often in our lives we’re faced with incidents that are far from desirable. There is a beautiful saying that goes “One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure its worth watching.” Unfortunately with the craziness of life and all the difficulties it throws at us its hard to recognize whether we are living lives worth watching. And it all hits us when death hits so close to home, almost too close.

I have lost family members before. Grandparents, and a cousin in the war; but for some reason such deaths were somewhat accepting. They were deaths that came in a time expected. Not that anyone expects death, but living in a war torn country or living of old age brings death knocking on our doors all the time. What shocks us is when death comes unexpectedly. I lost my good friend Daniel Gallock on Tuesday November 4th. Her death was two days after I celebrated my birthday. Her death came at a young age, in unexpected circumstances.

They say always tell people how much you appreciate them, before its too late. I met Daniel through my good friend Michelle Barton, who currently resides in the French lands and works there as well. We met, the same way I meet all the special people in my life, at the library. I recall her curiosity about the Palestinian Israeli conflict, and the place I called home. She was always full of laughter and smiles. It was almost like she knew her days were short, and needed to live them to her fullest. After graduation she signed up for the Peace Corp and decided to volunteer two years of her life to a cause greater than herself, a sacrifice not many of us are ready to give up.

It saddens me that I did not spend more time with her. It saddens me that this ugly world lost another beautiful person. It saddens me that while everyone is so hyped up about the elections and all the joy a black presidential victory would bring, that her family is busy morning her death. Life is short, and too often its ending hits too close to home. We love you Dani, rest in peace beautiful.

The Elections, Nothing New… Change????!!!

With all the talk about an economic crisis hitting the number one economy of the world, strikes some fear in humanity. Gandhi once said “Be the change you want to see in the world.” Yet, looking at the present political atmosphere throughout the US, there is little room for optimism to bring about change in the world. The recent debates between Senator Biden and Governor Palin exemplify the apex of political ruthlessness leading to pessimism in the minds of voters.

From attacking the little to no plan either of the candidates actually have, to going so low as to attack each other’s characters. One begins to truly doubt whether change will really come when we have such a deceiving and dirty political atmosphere in Washington. Yet, What strikes me as the best part of it all, is that both candidates consistently vow to their nonparticipation in the dirty game of broken promises to voters, and dirty slandering of the characters of the opposing parties choice in President.

With all the hype given to the debates, one can only see that the event was a bit overrated. Both VP candidates came to the podiums with the utmost of confidence and belief that they had the answers to all of the difficulties the American people face. From the argument about which candidate loved Israel the most, as well as their agreement that they both ironically disagreed with gay marriage; little seemed to be dissimilar between the Republican and Democratic ticket.

The major issues that rocked the debates as a whole were the usuals; the war, the economy, and health care along with social security. When it came to the War Senator Biden vowed that the democratic ticket brought something new, yet what exactly was that something new? A timeline! This timeline is set at a 12-16 month mark for the end of the war. Unfortunately Senator Biden forgot to mention the logistics and specificity of this so called “Timeline.” Of course the beautiful response from the Republican VP was the usual, “We need to win this war.”

Then followed the Economy, along with health care; which accompanied no formal nor realistic platform. Neither of the candidates were ready to lay it out on the ground; allowing the majority of the public to switch off their televisions sets with no real confirmation about what truly differentiates the candidates, and what exactly each plans to do to cure America from the ill governing of the past eight unfortunate years.




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Love, Voluntary Grief?? Is It Worth It?

This is an entry I did not want to do. I guess prolonging it was a weakness on my part, I did not want to face one of the most fearful topics in my opinion, Love. I guess its not love alone that scares me, but rather our modern interpretation about what love is. As well as how one demonstrates his or her love of another. The expectation of marriage and the fear of being alone seem to drive us to the assumption of being in love.

With the increasingly disturbing rates of divorce, most of which have directly affected me through the experiences of my loved ones, has caused me to reject the notion of marriage. I answered my mom once, when she asked about when I will tie the knot, I said “well mama, I rather be miserable and alone, than have to share my misery with someone else.” Of course that is an extremely pessimistic way of looking at relationships, but it also causes us to think of whether the majority of people in relationships are actually happy. Whether these individuals truly see themselves as wanting to be with their partners, or whether it is a sense of obligation that causes them to accept the status quo. Is it love, or is it legitimacy in society?

A child was once asked what he thought about love, and he answered: “Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs." Many may dismiss such a saying as that of a child who knows nothing concerning love other than that of which his parents taught him. While others may recognize that children, as young and inexperienced as they may be, sometimes have the deepest and purest meaning of love.

Regardless of whether one would like to share his or her French fries, or remain to be as selfish as I am. The idea behind it is whether you truly are ready to open yourself up to an individual and allow them to have a right to everything in your life. Are you ready to lay your secrets on the table and lay there vulnerable in your emotions for another to either treat you well or scar you for life. Whatever your decision is in the end, we must realize that love or the idea of a relationship is a voluntary entrance of another into your life. It is a voluntary endeavor that man commits to in the hopes of finding companionship. And with the little to no experience I have, and the pessimistic view I hold, I have nothing to offer. The overall answer I do get from friends and family is that regardless of how much heartache it brings, and sleepless nights accompanied by relationships, in the end its always worth it. We just need to embrace it!

The drive to political ruthlessness: HUMILIATION

What better time to strike back against the US than now? Russia realized that the only way to regain its international status is through stride its stuff. And that is exactly what Putin decided to do with recent invasion of Georgia.

After the loss and humiliation brought by the cold war, Russia was put in the back burner. Its irrelevancy in the international arena became worrisome to its proud leader, Putin. This humiliation and constant pressure from the US was resisted by an attack on southern Georgia. Russia took advantage of the situation to strut its stuff to the world. On August 8th, 2008 Russia sent troops and tanks into the breakaway Georgian province of South Ossetia. Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin described the incident in his own words: "the war has started". Putin's spokesman Dmitry Peskov said: "War started today in South Ossetia when Georgia attacked Russian peacekeepers in the disputed region."

Yet, many may wonder what exactly triggered this whole fiasco? In the lieu of the Iraq war and the constant struggles between the Palestinians and the Israelis; one may ask whether we truly need another war to worry about. A few gun shots in the air and a dead civilian with a few injured unleashed the violence. This occurred in South Ossetia; which is a tiny territory with a population of around 50,000. Ossetia broke away from Georgia after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Most of the region is under the control of separatist authorities but the central Georgian government in Tbilisi controls several villages. Tensions have been high in recent months, with frequent exchanges of fire between the sides. The situation remained calm, until the recent attacks.

They say humiliation drives an individual or even a nation to the extreme. It can be a drive to greatness, or a drive to ruthlessness. One of the 9/11 hijackers was quoted saying “we will now leave the state of humiliation.” His perception of leaving the state of humiliation was through revenge. Of couse such revenge would be achieved through his act of hijacking the planes. This not new to human nature; history has shown us time and time again. And now it is Russia’s turn to come back. Its view of showing the world it still has what it takes to be a leading power in the world is through the recent invasion. The invasion of Ossetia lead Russia to ruthlessness.

Bitter Sweet!!

This probably has been the hardest entry for me to write. Its not because I am an over sentimental individual , but rather because it signifies the closing of one of the greatest doors that have opened up in my life. That is the door of Africa.

For the past two months and a half Arusha became all that I knew. It became my life, my existence, but above all it was my home. It was a place that opened its arms and greeted me with the warmest of greetings. Everyday I woke up to the beautiful cries of roosters. Trying my best to get ready in the shortest amount of time, I would finish up and walk out to wait for the Adam (our UN shuttle driver). Of course Adam was always full of smiles, and his famous "Habari Subuhi?" With our broken Swahili and the most obvious US accent, we responded with "Nzuri Sana Adam, Ne WeWe?" A dragging day at work, always was brightened up by walking through the hallways and being greeted over and over again, with "Habari" and "Mambo." I could never have enough of it. I don’t recall ever being too tried to say hello, or to unhappy to flash a smile, and to receive one in return. If you ask me, that is by far one of man's greatest powers, the power of smiling. Prophet Mohammad consistently told his people that "even a smile can be a charity."

But Arusha did not only offer me beautiful smiles, and memorable greetings. It offered me the meaning of life. Life is not about degrees, and awards. Its definitely not about promotions and job titles, nor is about money and bank accounts. In Arusha there were no worries. It was all "Akuna Ma Tata." It may be sad that I needed to go to another continent to figure out that sometimes we need to relax and understand as humans why we are brought to life. Why exactly am I, Lana Shehadeh, alive? And what does it mean to be alive?

Before this summer, life meant a lot of other things. Life meant getting good grades. It meant excelling in school to be able to get into an even better law program. Life meant graduating my undergrad at nineteen, and finishing up my law degree shortly after. It meant beginning my LLM to make sure to get a high paying job. Of course I always knew that I wanted to work for the greater humanity. Atleast that is what I told myself. This summer opened my eyes. It showed me that I can relax a bit. It told me that law school will always be around, it will always be there waiting for me and my money. All the jobs in the world will be around, whether I were to get them or not. And best of all, all the money in the world will never ever help me sleep at night.

After going to Africa I decided to take a break. I decided to take a break from the life I have been leading and explore the world. I guess I want to make sure that I can see all that I can see before its too late. And for some odd reason I am convinced that sitting in a law school class room will not show me that. It will not show me the meaning of life, it will not allow a beautiful orphan's smile, it will not teach me Swahili, and it will definitely not wake me up with a rooster's cry. Only Arusha was able to do that for me.

As I sit in the Heathrow London airport, recalling the priceless memories I made this summer. I know that this is just the beginning. This is the beginning of a lot of new and adventurous journeys. I know that the path I am taking may not be ideal for most people. It will most definitely be incomprehensible to my family and peers. But for me, this is the path I will be taking. My mind is made up, and I am as stubborn as a young Palestinian-American Muslim woman can get.

Zanzibar Took My Breath Away

Life is what you make it. Sometimes the most enjoyable things in life are the most basic ones. And people who are able to enjoy the simple things in life, are the ones who have a monopoly on happiness. Regardless of what it is, Things like watching the sunset, or children playing with sand, or an old man smiling as he opens his shop in the morning. Those who are able to appreciate that, understand what life is truly all about.

I was very lucky to have the opportunity to travel to Zanzibar, an island off of the coast of the Indian ocean. Zanzibar is considered to be part of east Africa's Tanzania. It is by far one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited in my life. As much as it may seem that people overrate this Island, I do not think it can be overrated enough. In fact I would go so far as to say it is absolutely underrated.

We arrived in Stone town, where a lot of the old Arab Sultan's homes were located. Of course Zanzibar was considered an Arab colony, where unfortunately a lot of the Arab slave trade occurred. Yes, the Arab slave trade. When I read this I was beyond embarrassed, and the locals definitely consistently remind me that my people enslaved their people. Nonetheless the people in Zanzibar are extremely gracious and compassionate. Might I add they are extremely good looking people. Many of them are mixed in ethnicities throughout the Mediterranean.

We took a boat ride to Prisoner's Island. This is the island where most of the prisoner's were located. It is now a getaway. A huge and expensive hotel has been built on the Island. We hung around for a while with some friends. I was accompanied by Lisa (My Palestinian friend who lives in Israel), Mark (Jordanian-Canadian engineer we met in Arusha), and his friend Lei (Chineese-Candanian computer engineer). We then went to the night market. The night market is basically located right behind the Arab fort where all the fishermen bring the fish they caught, and meet, and veggies, and they grill it right in front of you. They also make amazing Zanzibar pizza, which is not really pizza in the traditional sense. Rather it is veggies and your choice of meet (if you want meet) and eggs on thin bread and toasted. They also make one of the most amazing banana and chocolate crepes I have ever had. We then went for some tea on the breach, where I got my phone stolen. (Very fun :)

The next day we got ready and went on a spice tour. Basically you go up to this mountain close to Stone Town, and you take a tour through a spice farm. The guide picks spices and always you try them, and smell. All the while one of the young boys makes hats and rings with green leaves. We then take a break for fresh fruits and all kinds of flavored tea. We then drove to the North, which was about an hour away. We stopped in Kendwa beach, and stayed in Kendwa Rocks. We literally did nothing except sitting around, sleep on the hammocks, lie down on the beach, and eat. It was heaven on earth. The only productive thing I did was swim at night our first night there.

I got back to Arusha yesterday. Unfortunately most of my roommates have left. Gwen (beautiful law student from New jersey, John Hopkins graduate, and has the most beautiful laugh) is in Rwanda for a week. I will unfortunately be gone when she's back. And Rose (beautiful law student from Chicago, with the best Nun dance ever) is in Zanzibar for a week. And my lovely Lisa (beautiful Palestinian-Israeli diplomat in Boston) has left already. Thanks to Melanie (gorgeous Canadian lawyer), I have a roof over my head for a week until I leave. Its sad that everything is ending here. It was definitely an amazing summer, where I learned so much. And I took risks that I never knew I can take. I was homeless, broke for a while, and somewhat lost in the middle of Africa. Some how I was able to figure things out, and it was pleasure doing so.

No More Genocide

It was Thursday afternoon. We landed in Kigali International Airport. The weather so beautiful, basically a dream day in a dream place. The airport security was so easy on us. The only question we were asked over and over again was "Excuse moi madam, do you have your badge?" I guess I never knew how effective the UN security badge would be.

After arriving at the ICTR headquarters in Kigali, I began to see it. I began to see what everyone else was telling me about imagining what each individual who slightly resembled the stereotypical image of a Tutsi went through. I began to look at anyone who was of a taller and slimmer frame, and imagine what may have happened to his or her family. I could see images and scenes of a Genocide I never was a witness to. What is sad, is that I have very little respect for individuals who claim that they understand or can imagine what occurred. I began to view my own thoughts and so called experience in Kigali as that of a hypocrite and an ignorant activist.

Regardless of my thoughts and opinions of the Genocide, one thing no one can deny is that Kigali and Rwanda in general is absolutely beautiful. I have never seen a country that is full of hills and beautiful scenery. In Kigali, no matter where you go you have a beautiful sight to capture. The most enjoyable part of my experience was hoping on to the motorcycle taxis. I remember hoping and praying that people in the street were not observing the corny look I had on my face. I had a huge smile that I could not stop.

Our second day was spent traveling to the northern side of Rwanda. We were heading to Butare. Buare is a prefecture in the south, where a large portion of the Tutsi population lived, hence became a perfect site for most of the massacres. In fact the case I am assigned to in the Office of the Prosecutor is called Butare. The ride was interesting, although a bit long. The beneficial aspect was that we got to see most of the country side. Unfortunately one of the interns that were with us decided to ask a local about one of the memorial sites. The local gave her bad directions and we were stopped about 2 hours away from our original destination.

We landed in an obscure village in the middle of no where. It was RPF day, RPF day signified the day the RPF liberated Kigali, and very few people spoke English. In fact let me rephrase that, NO ONE SPOKE ENGLISH. And my "ampe francais" could take me almost no where in Rwanda. After hours of frustration in the burning heat, a Chinese business man stopped for us hitch hikers. He turned out to be a very nice man, who gave us a lot of advice in regards to traveling in Rwanda.

We finally reached Butare, and all the transcripts I had been reading for a month became real. We sat and ate at Hotel Ibis, where the majority of the road blocks along with a substantial amount of the killings took place. We walked a little more and found a large gathering at a local school. Almost five thousand people were present to celebrate RPF day. It was by far the most interesting thing I ever saw in my life. I remember noticing a 8 month old child sitting next to his mother, who was selling corn. He had a flag in his hand and was waiving it so innocently. I stood to think of whether his generation will have to also reap the pain of one of the most horrific man made incidents in the 20th century.

We made our way out to Gikongoro, and took a motorcycle ride to Murambi school. Murambi is a memorial site where almost 50,000 Tutsis had been killed. The only difference is the Tutsis that were killed in Murambi had resisted. Apparently there was quite a bit of resistance and that is why this cite is so treasured. We walked into the classrooms and bodies were laid out in front of us. The skeletons had been preserved as a symbol of remembrance. Walking in, one can see the machette scars on the bodies, and skulls that had been broken with traditional clubs.

Regardless of what I did after that visit, the genocide haunted me in my visit to Rwanda. I began to walk through the streets of Kigali questioning what happened at every corner. To me, Kigali had a sense of sadness. To me, Rwanda had a sense of sadness. Although some may feel that it is time to move on, I believe its not. I believe that there needs to be a total acknowledgment of what occurred and a consistant reminder.

I will end with the beautiful words of Edna St. Vincent Millay:

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

Akuna Ma Tata

They say its not easy being a revolutionary. It’s not easy leading the way. No one wants to be the first to do something new. Human nature is comforted by the idea of following in another’s footsteps. After graduation following in my brother’s footsteps straight to law school seemed like the right thing to do. Unfortuntaley the consequences of certain decisions rese,mble their effect on you, when your far form the situation. I guess I had to step away, move to Africa, and realize…. What did I do?? Its all too soon…

Living in Tanzania throughout this summer has taught me to question it all. It taught me to immerse myself in a culture that is so foreign to me. And learn to love what is different. I love it here. I have never been so amazed and moved by a continent as I am of Africa. Of course, the occupied territories will always be on my mind. But as a Palestinian that has never opened up to other cultures and conflicts, being here showed me another light. Africa showed me that one is to fail miserably, fall hard, stand up, brush away the dust, and stand taller than ever. It is a culture of pride and strength. Its people are joyful and happy regardless of the horrors they live. Poverty is a way of life, and it does not bring people down. But rather people continue to smile, and live life as it comes. The famous saying in Tanzania is and will always be “Akuna ma Tata” (no worries). And I hope I can look at everything like that!!

I will not make any sudden decisions. I wont announce that I will drop law school just yet, but it is definitely an idea. I know I want to practice law someday, or obtain a form of a law degree. But not now, not yet! I have already promised myself to relax a bit. But I am confident enough to say that I want to do something different. I wont allow a fear of what people think, or how they will react to my decisions, to dictate my life. I guess ill allow life to take me wherever it goes. But for now, its AKUNA MA TATA!!

Homeless in Arusha

Using words to express myself was never my best trait. I have always felt like every time I try to express myself I lose sense of what I am saying. When I was younger I would complain to my father that I had so much to say but didn’t know how to say it; so i wished that I can give certain people a lock to my brain. Hence they can capture all the action going on upstairs. But then again some of my other fantasies consisted of me having a never ending ice tea fountain. So, the credibility that lies in my desires, wishes and dreams may not be so legit.

They say to putting thing in writing gets it off your chest. It clears your mind, and gets you to focus on what truly happened. Rather than getting caught up with the emotions and the adrenaline it brings along with it. So, I have decided to put it all down. This trip to Arusha has been filled with emotions and feelings that can not be expressed in words. Although I am certain that man made words can not possibly capture the magic Arusha has, but an attempt shall be made.

After arriving in Dar es Salam on Friday, May 30th, I was certain that I knew what I got myself into. The heat was unbearable and the people seemed far too custom to the usual flow of tourists. I sat in a cafeteria on the top floor of the Dar international airport for nine hours, before my flight to Arusha was ready to leave. Ofcourse the wait was accompanied by consistent naps, where I would suddenly awaken to loud noises in the airport. The flight to Arusha was brief, and by the time we got there an intern and I grabbed a taxi and went straight to the city.

After a 3 day stay at the Arusha Naaz Hotel, I figured it was time to begin work. A friend of mine and I were still homeless, and quite confused as to what will be our upcoming plans for coping with life in Arusha. So, a day before setting to work we thought it was rather crucial that we find a place to stay. We both knew that the UN had never prided itself in interns that were homeless and dressed in unclean clothes due to lack of running water and lost luggage.

Our Sunday began with an endless walk throughout the city asking people if they knew of any available housing units. We were desperate, we needed a place where we can rest our heads and wash our faces to look sharp for work. Instead of lucking out with a place, we met Peter. Peter is everything to us in Arusha. Although that may sound extremely cheesy, but Peter really helped us with adjusting. He became our driver, our friend, our sales consultant, and our father figure in Arusha.

Peter introduced us to the sweetest woman in Arusha quickly after arriving. He introduced us to Claudette, and basically we moved in with her. Yes, this only happens in Arusha. We meet a beautiful American woman, who is so sweet. We tell her about our situation and we move in for a week until we find housing. Again I must add, only in Arusha.

Is Racism and Bigotry still alive, or are we just too sensitive?

We live in the twenty first century, a world filled with innovation and new technology. A world where our society is presumed to see no color, religion, ethnicity, nor sexual orientation, instead it supposedly sees nothing more than merit. We live in a global society that is so called to be based on morals and equality. Yet, we are still faced with the same old question: Is racism and bigotry still alive, or are we just too sensitive?

Some have claimed that racism and bigotry are not only alive, but rather remain to be like a plague in our society. A society that has been overwhelmed with hate crimes mostly based on race, religion and sexual orientation. Even here in the US, we are still faced with the backward thinking that one may be susceptible to attack because of the social classification he or she belongs to. In 2004, the Federal Bureau of Investigations (FBI) released a report stating that hate crimes today are driven by traditional offenses motivated by the offender’s bias, the same old feeling of bigotry. According to the study 9,035 incidents occurred in 2004 alone, by approximately 7,145 offenders. Of the 7,145 offenders, 65% were white, 20.4% were black and 8.2% were of unknown races. Although the white race is the dominant category of offenders, one must keep in mind that the Caucasian race includes many other ethnicities, not limited to European descents. In fact, even Middle Easterners, such as myself, are classified as white. Most of these hate crimes reported were driven by bias fitting into, race as the highest percentage followed by religion, sexual orientation, and ethnicity.

Unfortunately most of these incidents go unreported for many reasons. Nonetheless they are increasing rapidly. Yet, there still remains a misconception that such incidents only take place by ignorant, uneducated individuals. Many would be shocked to see that offenses as these occur in some of the most educated of places. Indeed Brian Dunkel, gay law student from Washington University, would agree. On October 10th, 2007, while walking to his car, Brian was put in a chokehold and tackled to the ground by a fellow law student. Brian states that he was only attacked after informing some colleagues that he is gay. Sana Akhtar, a Muslim Student at Florida Atlantic University, would also agree since she was spat on by a member of an audience at a University based lecture. She was told that dark people should return to their own country, and this was followed by two spats from the same individual. Yet even the Ivy League schools have seen similar hateful behavior. Two Columbia University students were arrested December 2 in the school’s Ruggles Hall for allegedly committing a hate crime in which they drew graffiti of swastikas, racial epithets, and homophobic symbols on the walls of a suite. And of course let us all remember the famous incidents of the “Jena 6”, where white youth were treated leniently as opposed to the black youth; although all were involved in very similar race driven violent incidents.

Many would define such feelings of hatred and bias toward others as a collective notion that man is allotted his merits and intelligence through inheritance of a race, nationality, religion, or sexual orientation. A man is of a certain degree of intelligence or worthy of appropriate respect because such a man is of a certain class of people. Ayn Rand, a Russian philosopher who was exiled to the US, explains that racism negates the only factors that actually separate man from animal. The factors she alludes to are reason and choice. Racism serves to eradicate reason from man’s being, and leaves him to be illogical. Abraham Heschel, a Jewish theologian and philosopher, echoes rand by stating “Racism is man’s gravest threat to man, the maximum of hatred for the minimum of reason.”

Is it truly unfortunate to be Palestinian??

I recall reading an essay by Edward Said, where he defined his heritage as being "unfortunately" of Palestinian descent. Of course the few minutes after reading such words I grew uncomfortable and some what insulted. I thought to myself how on earth can Palestinians ever represent themselves and their cause on the international forum by stating that being Palestinian is unfortunate. Aren’t we taught to be proud of our noble Palestinian heritage and our cause?

Unfortunately since then my sentiment has changed. I see exactly what Said was trying to display. He did not mean to exemplify his misfortune of being Palestinian due to his shame of it, but rather due to the disheartening nature of being Palestinian. Everyday becomes a battle, every political conversation ends with the crowd seeing you at fault; you grow discouraged from wanting to speak about the actual topic. Whenever it comes up, your initial reaction is “I hope change comes about, but let us agree to disagree.”

It is unfortunate to be Palestinian in a time when the Israeli defense minister has proudly called the recent violence as the “Gaza Holocaust.” It is unfortunate to be Palestinian when Palestinians in Gaza are warmed in the winter time by the flames of rockets and missiles thrown down by modern Israeli air force. So far the numbers are 120 Palestinians killed. We await the numbers to rise, while desperately trying to see what it is we can do from so far away.

It seems that all we can do is wait for the silence of the Arab world to break, the weakness of the UN to have an effect to halt the violence, and the US foreign policy makers to have a conscience. “I was born of unfortunate nature; I was born of Palestinian descent!”

Why We Wear The Hijab?!

As a Muslim women raised in the US and wears the hijab (headscarf), I have been consistently asked why I wear it? And what it symbolizes? Many times I am unaware of what to answer since too many Muslim women that wear the hijab convey a totally different meaning from the hijab truly stands for.


Among Muslim women, the debate about hijab takes many forms. Many believe that the veil is a way to secure personal liberty in a world that objectifies women. Several women have argued that hijab allows them freedom of movement and control of their bodies. Understood in such terms, hijab protects women from the male gaze and allows them to become autonomous subjects. The hijab rejects the notion brought about in a true patriarchal society, where women dress appealingly for the pure pleasure of men. But rather the hijab brings about a women’s decision to dress as she pleases, and to be judged by what she has to offer to society, not by how appealing her hips may be. Others have argued that the veil only provides the illusion of protection and serves to absolve men of the responsibility for controlling their behavior. But the overwhelming majority agrees that modesty is a major objective of wearing the hijab.


It seems that modesty, which is the foundation of hijab has flown out of the window. When one observes women in the hijab wearing clothing that is very tight and revealing it may indicate a different reason for wearing the hijab. The hijab is not only about covering your hair. It is about dressing modestly and covering what is known to be the attractive nature of women. It is important as Muslim women to dress nicely and portray a beautiful image of Islam. I am an advocate of Muslim women dressing fashionably and enjoying the hijab, by wearing colors and matching. But as a Muslim woman I make sure that certain things are covered. And I try to resemble a somewhat decent portrayal of the hijab. No one is perfect, and by no streatch of the imagination am I alluding to my perfection. If anything I am someone who needs a lot of work on my self.


But a problem may arise when women that wear the hijab are dressing too tight. And symbolize individuals merely covering the strands of their hair, rather than the full package. A recent article by a blogger who tried to illustrate the same idea said:“Wearing a scarf on a super-tight dress that shows the exact shape of your body, bust and hips just doesn’t strike me as hijab. Because the hijab involves covering your precious body from non-related men…..covering your attractions.”It is unfortunate that the majority of Muslims absolve themselves from the true nature of the hijab. And instead get caught up with immaterial aspects of the religion.


One of these immaterial debates arises with the “meat question.” The majority of Muslims are unable to agree on whether Muslims must eat Halal (hand slaughtered) meat, or regular publix meat. I have totally barred myself from such questions, by switching to a vegetarian lifestyle. Yet what worries me, is that I observe many Muslims who argue the importance of Halal meat, yet it is hard to even recognize that they are Muslim. What is more important, and what exactly are our priorities. Is it meat or is it the principles that uphold the religion????


The purpose of this is for use to understand why we wear the hijab, and whether we are doing it for the right reasons. It serves primarily as a reminder to myself (who is deeply in need of such reminders). I hope that this stirs up debate among us, and allows us to understand each other and help each other grow.