
Issam Abu Amaryih, wearing his newly gifted green Hawaiian lei, is a friendly man with a contagious smile and an inviting personality. He lives in Beit Sefafa, a weathered old Palestinian village, in the southeastern part of Jerusalem. Abu Amaryih is a family man who earns his living as a bus driver.
On a recent trip to the Holy Land, I had the privilege of meeting him. He drove our bus on a guided tour from Jerusalem to Nazareth and then to Tel Aviv and back. I mostly sat up front, next to him, because of my ongoing carsickness, which gave us the opportunity to talk about our personal feelings on various aspects of life with each other.
“I have a wife and a new baby. According to Muslim law a man can have up to four wives; though my wife would kill me if I chose to marry another,” he jokes. He takes out his cell phone and shows me pictures of his sweet little infant as he flashes a proud fatherly smile. I smile with him as we sit quietly enjoying the moment.
Abu Amaryih breaks the silence by asking me if all Americans believe what they see in the news: “do they all believe we are suicide bombers and terrorists?” I can barely stand to look him in the eyes when I answer. Yes, sadly many Americans do believe what they see and hear in the media; that your people are terrorists. Almost instantly I am filled with self-contempt and shame at the realization of my ignorance.
As I gain my bearings I ask him if he has a message that I could take home with me. A message to share with the people I come in contact with. He says, “Tell them we are just looking for our rights. We only want what the American and Canadian people want— to have freedom in our own country. But we have check points from city to city.” As I sit there taking notes I fight back the tears that are welling up in my eyes. It seems that I have more rights than he does in his own country. How could this be? I uttered to myself.
I softly ask him if he would like to say anything else? “ I don’t want to be afraid of the Israeli army— I just want to go peacefully,” he answers. As I put my pencil down I tell him that I will share his message with everyone who will listen and even with those who do not want to. In that moment, I'm reminded of a quote by Martin Luther King Jr., “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter—.” As I smile at my new friend I promise myself that I will never again remain silent regarding the Palestinian people, a people I have grown to care deeply for, living under occupation.