For the last forty four years and since my eviction I thought of the little town, Bani Naim, to the point I dreamed about its streets and houses rather frequently. Every year I invented plans to travel back and visit this town and the people who live in it. My obsession of return grew stronger every year passed by and with the distance that separates us apart. My passion for the return made me believe that I am walking in this world somewhat bleak and that I left my soul in Bani Naim. All these years I felt my life is incomplete without closing the cycle, which made me determined as ever to make a trip to Bani Naim to perhaps satisfy this strange feeling of locating my soul instead of living soulless. With this urge to make a trip, I made a plan to overcome my fears and hurdles standing in the way. When I announced my plan to travel to Palestine, relatives and friends were excited as if they were waiting for the moment to arrive for half a century.
Sitting in the airplane sleepless for over twelve hours hearing the engine roaring was much calmer than the screaming of the emotions inside. The eyes wear tearing about the moment and about how to face so many relatives who I never knew in the real life and friends who exist only in my cyberspace. Somehow this time of twelve hours was dilated in a manner defies the logic. The feeling of waiting to arrive at the final destination was stranger than perhaps the thought of traveling in a spaceship to a distant galaxy. It was very hard to imagine any expectations and what the reactions would be when seeing loved ones that exist only between the lines in facebook timelines and email messages. When the airplane touched down at the airport in Jordan, I felt my heart dropped down to my feet. As I was walking toward the exit and before I reached a long line of passengers waiting for their turns to check out, a stranger with a policeman stopped me and I thought, “well, here we go again.” Instead these two men treated me like a celebrity and walked me out surpassing all these passengers. Abu Saleh, one of the two men, turns out to be the father-in-law to a distant cousin that I never met in the real world. I also met my first nephew (Bader) where we both shed a few tears. The first few hours I spent in Jordan were spent on contemplating where events of so many years passing through my mind in just a few seconds.
Spending two days at the University of Jordan brought back so many vivid memories despite the fact the place underwent extensive infrastructure growth to the point it becomes unrecognizable. This place witnessed our laughter and the agony that any undergraduate students go through it. I saw places where we used to sit down, gossip, and invent senseless humor. The trip to the University of Jordan was highlighted by visiting the department of physics and talking to old colleagues including the department chairwoman, Professor Bothina Hamad. I was invited to present a talk to a conference sponsored by a German foundation and Princess Sumaya University for Technology. The environment in this conference was friendly and I additionally visited with more colleagues and friends that I have not seen for so many years. The departure from this conference location to Palestine was a little bit touchy and a few tears were shed during the parting. Taking a taxi-cap from the University of Jordan to the border crossing to Palestine was even more emotional. A friendly discussion was initiated with the driver who was a Palestinian refugee from 1948. We told our live-stories to each other and we grieved all these years in a 30 minutes period. I had never witnessed a man crying from the deepest part of his heart as this taxi driver. He refused to take the tariff for driving me to the bridge. He left with tears rolling down on his cheeks. My heart will continue to bleed until we all return.
Crossing the bridge from Jordan to Palestine was a slow and excruciating experience. I felt my heart was leaping out of my chest. The adrenaline was gushing through my veins during the driving time from Jericho to Bani Naim. This is the first time a thought came into my mind that all revolutions lead to independent states except the Palestinian revolution. I thought of the Oslo accord as being permission to reinforce the occupation. I never thought of being questioned by an Israeli soldier while entering Palestine despite of the fact the Israelis treated me as a very important person (VIP) and sent a hostess to accompany me while in transit a waiting for the process of crossing the border to be finalized. The emotion during this time start to build up and yearning to enter Bani Naim to meet relatives and friends reached its peak. A constant flow of phone calls poured on us as my nephew was driving in late evening hours from Jericho to Bani Naim. I did not even have a moment to look through the window and great the mountains and valleys of Palestine that I dreamed of them so often. The roads were changed since last time I saw them, but in this moment I realized I am a branch of a tree aiming so high to the sky, but its roots are deeply entrenched in this land and nobody with any might can wrench them out.
The moment of arrival started with many cars full of people waiting at the entrance of Bani Naim, which followed us all the way to the reception place located near the center of town. In-there many men, women, and children were standing-by shouting with celebrity and exuberation. At this moment I realized my soul starts seeping back into my body, which is nourished by breathing the air I used to adore when I was a young lad. The soul transfer back into me was completed by every greeting person and by visiting every little place in Bani Naim. My trip cannot be completed without visiting the graves of my parents and Yageen. While a group of men drove me to Yageen during the dismissal of school children, I noted four foreigners standing at a cross roads. I greeted them in English and they identified themselves as peace activists from England, Germany, Switzerland, and Philippine. I chatted with them for about 30 minutes and noted they put their lives on line for the love they have for Palestine and the Palestinians. These four people soothed the pain and suffering of my soul. Their images are embedded in my heart for the rest of my life. Many messages poured at me with mixed emotions, but the most touching message was a cartoon drawing by a teenager (Razan) of a Palestinian flag hugging a man as he is entering a gate. During this trip, there were so many people accompanied me everywhere I go, such as Abu Ihab, Abu Ameer, Abu Amjad, and poet Mahmoud Ahmad, just to name a few. The jokes by Yasser Hussain were icing on the cake. The images of the two Palestinian veterans, Hashim and Abdullah, will be with me for the rest of my life.
Several plans were made to visit Jerusalem, Yafa, Haifa, and other Palestinians cities. The thought of visiting these cities while under occupation is very humiliating to the mind, soul, and body. These places are empty shells to me and the plans were postponed until the day of liberation, but instead I visited students and faculty members at three Palestinian Universities. I also visited the grave of Yasser Arafat; it was a serene moment, but the visit to the grave of Poet Mahmoud Darwish and his museum was very poignant and I felt spears were pursing my heart. While I was visiting the grave of Yasser Arafat, I asked a Palestinian soldier standing by “how do you like it here?” He answered with a sarcastic, sneer, and scorn smile as if he is telling me “this is not a state.” Just one little smile from a soldier, I never met, sums it all for me.
To cap this trip, an outing to the countryside of Bani Naim is a must. An arrangement was made to spend an evening in the masafer. Several cars loaded with men were traveling to the east toward the Dead Sea in an afternoon with a crisp and clean air while the sky was blue. It was a magical feeling to see the mountains and valleys that I used to roam in my childhood has been transformed into lush greenery with trees of all kind covering the landscape. The convoy was stopped at a beautiful house with marbles covering the backyard. The smell of wild flowers and bushes filled the air with the majestic mountains on the west. The taste of the fresh food cooked on an open flame is from a heaven on Earth. Even the tea taste is wholesome and hearty. The sunset behind the mountains was an enchanted moment. The entire group of men sat in a circle and starts singing on the sound of the famous Oode notes played by a local musician. The group singings brought back the warmth and happiness I witnessed in my childhood. The most heartbreaking song has the following lines:
“I am coming with an olive branch in my hand
and my death shroud on my shoulders.”
All beautiful things have an end. The time of departure was particularly hard on all of us. As I was shaking the hands and embracing these men, the tears were rolling down their cheeks. I had never seen so many men crying during a farewell. It was the toughest moment to say goodbye to these men. The melodies that were hummed in this gathering are still resonating in my head.
The moment of farewell to relatives and friends was harder than I thought. It was emotionally draining and heavy on the soul. The tension associated with this departure was soothed a bit by encountering a pristine gem (Bothina) where the time was accelerated in her presence and dilated in her absence in a manner defies the theory of special relativity. She has the power to heal the wounds, but as for I know deep wounds need sometimes to recuperate.
Not only the landscape of Bani Naim has changed, but the landscape of the capital of Jordan has the most changes I have ever seen. Even those who live in there for so many years are lost in Amman’s traffic. While I was taken to the airport, we were lost in the traffic. We decided to stop and ask a group of men standing by the curb of a road. Suddenly over fifty men approached the car screaming and yelling with an Egyptian accent. They were looking for someone to hire them for the day. They would not listen to us since we were simply wanted to ask a simple question. This episode opens a wound in the heart. In the 1960’s we were lusting to shake any Egyptians hands that lived their lives with integrity and pride. Unfortunately, their leaders turned them into a nation of beggars living on the margins of civilization and sleeping on the garbage of history.
Bani Naim gave me back my soul with every handshake I made and every little place I visited. The reception I received from the people of Bani Naim was eccentric despite the tears that were shed during the farewell. I realized in this trip the legendary dynasty of Bani Naim is full of rich history, but I also came to the conclusion that our destiny is greater than life itself.
Omar Manasreh
22 April 2014