Ghassan Kanafani, Good Byes, Grandma, Gaza, Palestine, Egypt, Morsi & Me
Warning: This is very raw, emotional and looooong.
July 8, Gaza, I don’t know from where to start. Should I try to remember the beginning or jump right to the end or just honor the middle by mention it first. I had this strong intuition that 2012 will be an eventful year, a year of unprecedented events, a year of laughter and sobs and a year that I will remember for the rest of my life. Oh boy, Its July and till now I am very right.
Let
me start by honoring Ghassan Kanafani, who ignited the inspiration behind this blog post after the abandonment to my blog for a little over a month ago. Today, we commemorate the
40th anniversary of Israel's brutal assassination of Ghassan in
Beirut by blowing his car up. Yes, he had a dangerously artistic mind that
overflowed with influential work that touched the hearts of numerous people
around the world. He needed to be silenced.
Yet,
40 years today after his death, his voice remains stronger or even stronger
than ever. His words touch me like he wrote them today to me only and his work
is highly known and searched for by many people around the world. Voices like
Ghassan cant be silenced.
If
you want to know more about him check his website:
By now, most of you became familiar with my
weirdness and eccentricity (or I hope you are). I relate to many different
things, I belong to many different people\nations\things\countries and I bond
with numerous things and people. Ghassan Kanafani is a special case. I remember
saying: "I think I know this man", when I first saw his picture. I
read allot about him and I kept feeling like I know him.
His face is so familiar, the curve of his mouth
when he smiles is familiar, the way he glares is familiar, the way he thinks is familiar and the way he writes is very familiar. I feel like we were best
friends or could be best friends had I been born in his Era. I feel angry
sometimes because I didn’t attend his funeral. I feel jealous sometimes because
I wish I was one of his friends in Gaza or outside whom he used to see and\or
write to.
Here is a letter he wrote to his friend
Mustafa:
It strikes me how familiar and identical Gaza
sounds in his letter. Its like he is among us now. His letter is ageless, I wonder
if he ever imagined that so many years will pass but Gaza will remain Gaza. The
only difference is that more blood flows in Gaza streets reflecting a red that
can be felt but not seen. The debris of defeat has created a fog and more
sadness camps on Gaza. Yet, more steadfastness took place and life still goes
on like it went on when he wrote this letter.
For a split second, I felt like I wrote this
letter or it was written to me yesterday. There is allot of Ghassan Kanafani in
me and allot of me in him, I wish he was here so I could tell him that. Anyway,
I'm sure his soul got my message.
Just like Ghassan, I always undergo the fiasco\inner conflict\dilemma
of "should I leave or should I stay?" for the same reasons or atleast
similar reasons or just my reasons.
Here is a picture of his funeral:
Starting from the end requires from me to go
back to the beginning. This year started with the continuation of revolutions
in the Arab world. Revolutions that I was very attached to. I wouldn’t sleep,
glued to the TV watching the latest news from Tahrir and\or Syria and\or
Bahrain and\or Yemen and\or Libya and ofcourse the latest news of my own
country –Palestine- even though unfortunately we weren’t going through any
revolutions here.
I then joined MSF's (Doctors without Borders –
France) office in Gaza to live a once-in-a-live-time experience that came out
of nowhere and was very unexpected. I learned things in 5 months that I
couldn’t have learned in 10 years. The best and most exhausting 5 months in my
life. I got a wide access to Gaza and the INGOs world here. I discovered
shocking things and I witnessed good and bad things after careful observation.
Yet, I felt a tremendous pride for being MSF member and MSF felt pride to have
me aboard.
Its sad to see that those 5 months have come to
an end but its time to move on. I will come out with endless amazing memories
and people who will be my friends for life. Plus, a very worthy experience and
an unimaginable honor.
On my birthday this year, my grandmother was
sick and got sicker and this totally ruined my birthday. I love her so much so
I couldn’t help be affected by her sickness. Her health kept declining until we
were all able to see in May that she is living her last days. I kept preparing
myself for the inevitable but later I learned that no matter how hard you
prepare yourself, you will never be ready to lose a loved one.
On June 22nd, Friday, I had a bath
and left to my best friend's house. Before I left, I saw my sister leaning next
to my grandma's bed while she is asleep and reading her Qura'an. I asked her
"why?" and she said she just felt like doing it. 15 minutes after my
arrival to my best friend's house, I got a call from home: "Come,
something bad has happened", my heart told me that the moment I fret just
happened.
I rushed home accompanied by Ziad my best friend and I was calm.
Then, out of nowhere, felt like air is abandoning my body, like I was about to
dive into oblivion, like I was about to go mad, like my mind was about to
explode. Half way home, in the cab, I got my first ever panic attack. I never experienced panic attacks before; I only heard about them and saw them on TV. They aren’t pretty or easy. I arrived home and saw the ambulance parked downstairs. Suddenly, I had to face the ugly truth. Teta is gone. My grandma is no longer with us. I went down from the cab, threw my bag on the floor and rushed upstairs. Teta is dead, she passed away. I realized that after 12 continuous and strong panic attacks. I thought I was prepared; my body had a different story to tell.
Numbness take over when you cant deal with a
big loss. Teta wasn’t just a grandma; she was a second mother who kept us
together after I lost my mom at the age of 9 and a half. After her death I felt
motherless, a feeling so cruel and dark and cold that I felt a constant chill in
my spine. I feel that I'm still in denial.
Farewell Grandma, you battled cancer for 13
years, you raised children and grandchildren and you taught us to love
Palestine like you did. You lived a full life, you had an exceptional willpower
and you kept Palestine in your heart then passed it onto ours. May you rest in
peace and know that you will never ever be forgotten.
As if I wasn’t overwhelmed enough with
everything around, Egypt was unstable and Morsi won the elections. Speculations
here and in Egypt were flying like flocks and flocks of birds. I didn’t know
what to feel. Its either Morsi or Shafiq. Bad and worse. I felt sorry for Egypt
and Egyptians. I felt their frustration and showed my support.
I still crave visiting tahrir square and all my
friends there. I still have respect for Egypt.
Moving on to Palestine. Hmmm I don’t know what
to say. I wake up every day craving the west bank and the stolen lands of 1948.
I miss Palestine. My soul yearns for Palestine. I want to visit Nazareth and
all my family there. I want to visit Safad and relive all the memories that my
grandma told me about it and how her heart broke when the huge expulsion of
1948 took place. She always wished and wanted to go back there one day.
I am worried about Palestine. The Palestinian
cause has been and still is making a huge progress regarding awareness, BDS and
such but the Palestinian cause internally is nearly lost. Palestinians are two
seconds away of giving up. Our internal issues are screwed up. We are divided
and I think that we require a miracle to unite and free Palestine. I hope god
is listening.
Finally, I would like to thank you all for
being my friends, loyal fans and having continuous interested in my blog even
when life's pressures force me to abandon it for a while. I also want to thank
you all for helping me be real, raw and emotional while I share my stories with
you.
Eternal Gratitude,
Omar from Gaza
Ghassan was a terrorist
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