‘The girl on the bus comes back to me–she reminds me to wait for the
adhan, the call to prayer. The sun to rise. The church bells to ring. I’m in Bethlehem.’ Photograph: Nathalie Handal
[AS ALWAYS PLEASE GO TO THE
LINK TO READ GOOD ARTICLES IN FULL: HELP SHAPE ALGORITHMS
(and conversations) THAT EMPOWER DECENCY, DIGNITY, JUSTICE
& PEACE... and hopefully Palestine (& America ...etc...)]
: In the latest in our series of essays on what life and work are like
for writers around the world, Nathalie Handal describes an existence
where hearts race so fast it’s hard to find time for grief
Crucifixion: Nathalie Handal on being Palestinian, writing and enduring love
I
sit by the window and wait for her to finish her story. She has the
posture of a ballerina. Her honey-colored eyes against her hot magenta
headscarf offer a striking contrast. We are on a bus at the Bethlehem
checkpoint en route to Jerusalem. The anthology of Arabic verse I’m
carrying inspired the exchange. She tells me that each time she enters
Damascus Gate she recreates the day that changed her forever. Then adds
that she has eleven versions so far. I don’t know what she is speaking
about and for a second the sky’s paleness distracts us. She explains... READ MORE
