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.
5 comments:
Ema,
This is beautifully written. It was like reading a poem. The powerfully and lovingly written prose can be seen in ever word. The interweaving of yours and his encounter with each other is simply amazing. Your love for your brother can be seen and felt--something that is magical because it motivates me to want to share your story with everyone too. Not only this but it motivates me to want to do better--to make and be a difference in the world.
Thank you Riah for your heartfelt and ever thoughtful response..... I'm especially touched that you referred to Issam as my brother. That's a heartwarming thought. Your comment is appreciated. You are a making a difference in the world!
Ema this experience is amazing..I still remember the first time I heard you telling it and my eyes swelled up with tears as I was overcome with such a peaceful spirit. I have fallen in love with your blog and can't wait to share this same spirit and love with others.
Ema, I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You wrote this from your heart so it is understood from the heart--it touches our spirit. Thank you for being you. The journey you are taking is a marvelous one...you can do it because you have a dream and as Kobi Yamada said, "Follow your dreams they know the way."
Ema Billings i love you and i am grateful for you every single day. thank you!
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