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256 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 18, 2018
The seaside town of Akka (also known as Acre) is just 15 miles from Haifa, yet the differences between the two places could not be more striking. As you walk around the Byzantine cobbled streets, surrounded by an ancient fort, crumbling stone walls and Crusader-era buildings, you're transported to another time. Akka is one of the oldest cities in the world, a place believed to have been continuously inhabited for 4,000 years. [...]
I arrived in the early morning and began my day walking through the town's old city market just as vendors were setting up their stalls. Fresh fruit and vegetable stands jostled for space with clothing and household goods, as well as handicrafts aimed at the city's many tourists. [...] As the sun rose, so did the heat of the day, so I bought a glass of fresh pomegranate juice and walked up to drink it on the outer edges of the fort, sitting on the rocks that look out to sea. The atmosphere was that of a holiday seaside town and the air carried the salty scent of the ocean. Fishermen were sitting silently on the rocks, patiently waiting for their daily catches. Children carried balloons on the backs of ponies, enjoying short rides along the seafront, while playful teenage boys stripped off their shirts, raced along the walls and jumped 300 feet down into the sea, cheering each other on with their bravado. [Akka]
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As I waited for my breakfast — the Palestinian staple of hummus, flatbread, sliced tomatoes and olives — I was captivated by the glimpses of ordinary life revealed from where I was sitting. The mothers carrying baskets of wet clothes to their roofs to hang on the washing line; the stray cats running in and out of hidden corners; the clatter of market vendors setting up their stalls; the heady scent of za'atar beginning to rise through the air. [...]
Tall, striking and beautiful, Reem embodies Palestinian passion [...] We met at her house to make fattoush, a Palestinian staple and one of my all-time favorite dishes of the region [...] Reem grabbed a tall, dark bottle of extra virgin olive oil from the cupboard and started assembling ingredients for the dressing. "How does it feel for you?" I asked. "Going through these checkpoints?" Reem sighed and paused for a moment, putting the bottle down. "It depends on how the soldier feels. We have lived with the soldiers for many years now, I've been meeting them at checkpoints in my teens, my twenties, my thirties. I met them as a child, a young woman, a wife, a mother. I've grown up with them. Sometimes the soldier is human, sometimes he's a monster, sometimes he's a sort of god dictating your day. Sometimes he's just a little boy who doesn't want to be there, who just wants to be at the beach with his girlfriend, having a swim or sharing a kiss." We went back to our chopping for a while, in silence. [Jerusalem]
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They quietly sang Palestinian folk songs to themselves as they dragged metal rakes through the tree branches, the patter of falling olives providing an ambient percussion to the melodies. There was a calm and confident sense of accomplishment as we piled our gathered olives into yet another basket. It was a rare moment of serenity and peacefulness in the olive groves of Burqin, in the West Bank near Jenin. [...] [O]live farmers remain under threat of being beaten and shot, having their water supplies cut off, or their olive groves torched. Olive trees are routinely bulldozed to make way for the Separation Wall being built around the West Bank [...] But despite these hardships, olive trees remain a source of great joy to Palestinians. [Neblus and Jenin]
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Known today as Muna's bakery, the space in which it operates has functioned as a bakery for more than 400 years and, standing in the corner of the room watching the rhythmic movements of the bakers, I thought of all the history that has taken place outside these walls, while here, inside, the simple art of mixing water with flour and leaven in order to sustain people has stayed the same. [Nablus]
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The lack of materials to maintain or repair what's left has led to 96 percent of Gaza's water being unfit for human consumption, according to the United Nations, and crippling electricity shortages, sometimes amounting to just a few hours each day. [Gaza]
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The air felt crisp against my face as I wandered into the fruit tree-filled garden of my guest house in Bethlehem. I took a seat on a swinging bench that was nestled under a canopy of vine leaves, pulling my woollen scarf tighter around my neck to shield me from the cold as I listened to the soaring vocals of the early evening adhaan (the Muslim call to prayer) echoing across the sky.
[...]
Arriving at the café at 8am, we saw tables already filled with of groups of Palestinian men eating. On the steps outside, we passed a metal deep-fryer where balls of falafel were dropped into sizzling hot oil, crackling and sputtering until golden and crisp, ready to be stuffed into pockets of flatbread and smothered with hummus. [...] The hummus was whipped silky-smooth and light as air, pleasingly laden with nutty tahini. Mine arrived with musabaha topping, a glistening heap of lemony chickpeas adorning the purée, and finished with a thick slick of extra virgin olive oil. Chunky slices of tomatoes, onions, brined cucumber pickles and hot green chillies arrived, as well as a fiery red pepper sauce [...] [S]mooth hummus and crunchy falafel provided a riot of textures and flavors. [Bethlehem]
Bread has a special place in Palestinian cuisine: not only does it form an essential component of meals, but the act of breaking bread with another person symbolizes connection and friendship. "The bread and salt between us" is a popular phrase in Arabic, referring to a bond built on respect and comradeship through eating together. [Haifa]