WHEN I DIE, BURY ME IN YAGEEN

Yageen is a several century old rectangular structure standing on top of a hill. It is an ancient mosque with a tomb built inside the only room that is still standing to this day despite the erosion by the elements. The first time I enter the structure at age of five or six (preschool age) when my father took me inside to tie a handkerchief on the metal fence surrounding the tomb. I was shivering, trembling, and scared to death. I felt I was being watched by ancient looking people staring at me with big eyes to make sure I do not misbehave or disturb the souls of the beloved ancestors. In the middle of the structure there is a cistern that gave me the creep when I looked down at its bottom thinking that ghostly creatures are going to grab and drown me. Ever since that visit, I felt curious, attracted, and frightened by that place.

On the east side of the structure, there is another tomb in which the granddaughter (Fatimah) of Ali Ibn Talib is believed to be buried in it. The door of this tomb is facing south with a window on the east side. On the north of Yageen and bout one-fourth of mile there is a location at which the passersby always stop and stack a few rocks at the top of each others. The locals called this place Mashahid. It appears to me tying a piece of cloth on sacred sites and stacking rocks on top of each others as a guide or a sign to indicate inhabitants are living nearby are Mongolian rituals more so than indigenous habits. To me Yageen and its surrounding have a special place in my heart and mind. I was always and still attracted to that part of the world. It is an elevated hill that you can see from it the Dead Sea on the east side, Hebron on the west side, the Negev desert on the south side, and Jerusalem/Bethlehem on the north side. The view from that hill is as far as the eye can see in any directions. In a clear day when the haze and humidity are very low, one can see (looking to the east) a few cities in Jordan.

In spite of my first menacing and breath taking visit to Yageen, I grew up being attracted to that place due to the queer and strange feeling of being inside the abandoned mosque and due to the enchanted views surrounding the hill. With time I had the courage to convince other kids to go along with me to visit Yageen. On one occasion, a group of children decided to light a candle in Fatimah’s tomb. I was so excited about the idea that I volunteered to buy the candle. In one afternoon we marched to Yageen to place the candle in Fatima’s tomb. I was so excited when we approached the place I ran ahead of everybody with the candle in my right hand and I entered the door, From the inside of the tomb, I called for other kids who are approaching the tomb by the window to come in and not be afraid. At that moment, I heard screaming and yelling. I came out of the tomb to inspect the situation and noted all kids are running away toward the town with a full speed and as fast as their legs would carry them. I followed them running and when I caught up with them I asked what happened? After catching their breath, they all said that they heard a ghost telling them to come in and not be afraid. I was unable to convince them that it was me who was calling, none of them believed me. Since that time I stopped believing in banshees, ghosts, specters, ghouls, phantoms, poltergeists, or any other mischievous spirits.

After the candle ordeal, I grew up liking and being attached to that hill on which Yageen was built. Almost every day after school I took a book or two and walked the two miles to Yageen to study and contemplate. As the sun set, I watched all kind of birds flying overhead, I observed the shepherds walking their flocks toward town, Occasionally I saw one or two of my relatives greeting and shouting at me. Walking to Yageen and coming back early evening became a ritual especially during the spring season. Watching birds during the early spring time is an incredible and extraordinary experience since Yageen is located in a strip of land over which all kind of African birds take their annual migration to Eastern Europe and Russia. It is a peaceful place where I used to go in late 1960s to draw maps, find solutions to virtual conflicts, learn how to respect the land on which so many Nobles walked on, and above all stop my fears of ghosts and ghouls.

Knowing Yageen as an ancient religious site with some significant historic value to the city of Bani Na’im, made me respect sacred site of all cultures; ancient and modern. Many visitors from all kind of religions came to inspect Yageen. The sentimental value of Yageen was detected by the occupying forces who built checking points around it to prevent anybody from approaching the site. These occupiers try to obliterate, eradicate, and annihilate any attachment to the land and the sacred sites. I do appreciate Yageen even more so after I visit any ancient Native American sites, especially those scattered in the south west of the United States. In particular, I was intrigued by the ancient ruins at the Mesa Verdi in Colorado. Visiting this place reminded me with the long gone ancestors of mine, especially Na’im Aldary who cultivated the land, lived, died, and buried near Yageen.

While I was eating lunch with my family on a weekend day, one of my daughters asked a question about my wish and desire in this life. Without any hesitation and with an instantaneous and immediate reply, I said: when I die, I want you to take my body and bury it in Yageen. From the look at her face, her reaction to my statement was that of astonished, shocked, and bewildered insane-person. The second question she asked was about the location of Yageen and how to get to it. She interrupted me during my illustration of where to find Yageen and said: OK, here is what I am going to do. First, I will put your body in a sac, fly you to Bani Na’im, and start knocking on doors asking if anybody knows you and if they do, I would ask them to help me burying your remains in Yageen. She added, but nobody will understand me since I do not speak their language. At that moment, I started to laugh and cry at the same time. I was laughing at her wicked humor, wittiness, and absurdity; and crying for the fading chance and likelihood of being buried in Yageen.

Omar Manasreh
4 June 2008