dear palestine

This is a love letter written by Huda to her homeland.

“She seems older than her age."

This was the first thing I used to hear from people around me and who got to know me! Maybe because I seemed too young to be able to see things the way I did, from all different perspectives, or maybe it was the emotive language I used to express my feelings and capture details.

 I don't really remember how old I was when I first recognized that the land I belonged to was far away from the place I was born in. Something happened at school which made me walk back home with tears in my eyes, asking “if we are not from here, why are we not living there? Where am I from? Why are we here? Since when did you move? Why? Why?” I kept asking, looking for an answer to calm the fire in my heart.

 My mum said, “you’re still too young to know and understand!” “How am I still too young but feel this way?” My father hugged me, calming me down and said “I will tell you the story but you have to be proud of yourself wherever you go, proud of who you are and about your history and your people."

I’ve been through many things in my life, and now I know that I came from Palestine, the place I’ve never been to before but have lived in, eaten from, and shared real stories, all through my family. They were living there then moved to another place, carrying all their legacies and recreating them in their new home.

I speak the Palestinian accent, eat Palestinian food all the time, enjoy Palestinian songs at our weddings and celebrations, wear the Palestinian Thob (an authentic dress) during special occasions and more. I have always and still do strive to know everything about our Palestinian history and about anything related to my culture.

I know about the olive season in Palestine from Teta (grandmother) who kept celebrating the season even when she wasn't there. I have tasted zeit (olive oil) and za’atar from our land which travelled from there to us. I grew up with real stories about the Palestinian immigration because of the war from their lands, from Sedo (grandfather) who suffered and lived those memories.

Food was one of many bridges to Palestine from hummus with bread and shay marameiah for breakfast on Teta's table, to msakhan and mansaf at dinner with my whole family. Our identity has never been lost and went viral around us to others who were amazed at how rich our culture is.

I was lucky to be surrounded by a big family who have always been proud about who they are, and have kept their culture alive in their homes.

I believe that wherever I point my finger on the globe of the Earth, I will definitely find someone from my family living there, still practicing our culture.

Dear Palestine, you might not know about me but I know you very well, and I am sure when I come back to you one day, you will remember me because I am still a part of a big rooted olive tree from your land.

All photos taken in Gaza by Huda’s cousin Duha Alhabbash