I miss everything, i miss climbing el yunque in puerto rico, and then speaking to palestinians the week after in the west bank, i miss the hugs and smiles received by people who never knew about my existence until the day of, i miss hospitality, i miss warmness, i miss puerto rican voices, who spoke histories in casual conversations, in which were responded to with broken spanish accents, but their voice, of resistance and revolution all in one, i miss the amazing syrian students in turkey, to the warm, dehydrated sleepy nights in egypt. the confused 30 year old man, with children as beautiful as a sunrise over the great pyramids, not knowing what tomorrow can bring, but inside, screams of perseverance, inside each one of us, screams a mother who feeds the mouths of all her babies before her tongue can touch a taste, i miss my host family in bouricua, every single fact of information they engraved in my journal entries. i miss sleeping in 4$ hotels in amman, and fasting long hot days to break my fast on fresh sugar cane and middle eastern food. i miss the grandmother of histories that date back centuries whose smile makes you appreciate life for what it is, whose smile tells you that this is live, it has been lived, enjoyed, distressed upon, experienced to every single degree, now live it. I became the son of many. the mentee of every single human whos smile illuminated in condition that would make me question why would a human be tested to this extent. i miss refugees speaking about the splendors of the live they had, they lived the memories in expression, cried tears of lost family members, a daunting reality, but smiled at a world that caused the casualties they faced. I miss faith. i miss going to palestinian villages in the west bank and seeing resistance stamped on the hearts of every single child, woman, man, that was there. i miss their stories, and their theological justifications of why they are persistent, their wisdom that can never be matched. i miss flags that created autonomy of existence, we are here, despite all the nationalistic barriers, and despite us holding the same last name, i am a citizen of country X and you are a resident of Y, and we exist. i miss my friends, new and old, i miss my family, scattered wherever i found them, in nablus, cairo, syria, or amman. diaspora is what is lived, but can never be understood by those who are not a part of it. it aches the heart, and creates enclaves curiosities for the curious and privileged mind to embark on. i miss everything.. we will be back.. we will return..
Posted on: Tue, 14 Oct 2014 07:22:11 +0000
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