The Kalimatna Initiative Presents “This is Nablus!”

Over the course of 2010, seven American and three Palestinian youth worked together to document the city of Nablus through photography and videos of the people, places and things that make it special. The following  multimedia presentation is the final result of the Kalimatna project.

Check out “This is Nablus!” on Prezi!

 

The Kalimatna Initiative, meaning “our words” in Arabic, is a youth-led cultural diplomacy project whose goal is to introduce the culture of Nablus, Palestine, to the world.

Press Conference with Imad

Last weekend my class played several question games to build on our activities focusing on observing the world through the five senses. To put all the question brainstorming to work we invited TYO staff member, Imad, to a “press conference,” which you can watch below!

Duha: What’s your name?

Imad: My name is Imad Mansour.

Ibrahim: How are you?

Imad: Thanks be to God, very good.

Mohammed H: How old are you?

Imad: 26, minus a little.

Ayasar: Where do you live?

Imad: I live in al-Dhahiyya, in Nablus.

Rihanna: What do you do?

Imad: I am the volunteer coordinator at Tomorrow’s Youth Organization.

Labeeba: When do you go to work in the morning?

Imad: 8 o’clock in the morning.

Mohammed A: How many brothers and sisters do you have?

Imad: 5 brothers, 1 sister.

Yazan: Are you married?

Imad: Engaged!

[Congratulations from the room]

Said: Who’s the most important person in your life?

Imad: Thukan Fishawi in Ramallah.

Shams: What’s your favorite meal?

Imad: Stuffed Grape leaves.

-Kara

Kara is an intern at TYO Nablus and a participant in the Kalimatna Initiative.

A Zeitoon Afternoon

Last Sunday, I had the pleasure of an extended visit with the Zeitoon family.   Zeitoon women make up six out of the eight students in my lower level English class here at TYO.  Last term, they rarely came to class, and when they did all six would stroll in at the same time (usually late), babies in tow, laughing raucously, never-ever remembering all 26 letters of the alphabet.  Whenever I heard their booming voices echoing in the hallway outside of my classroom, I was always filled with simultaneous dread and pleasure.

The Zeitoon family is from Balata refugee camp, the largest and most crowded refugee camp in the West Bank.  People say the problems that pervade the camps in the West Bank are worse in Balata because it is smaller and more crowded – more 25,000 people live together on one square kilometer.  Balata is where the first events of the 1987 Intifada took place, and it is also where the Second Intifada turned into an armed uprising.  Balata also happens to be the home of about fifty Zeitoons.

So last Sunday afternoon, I made my way over to Balata camp to spend time with Mona, Sameera, Samar, Fawziyya, Nisreen, and Salam, my Zeitoon mothers.  I had a meeting at TYO at 5:00, and I assumed that two and a half hours of lunch and socializing in a language that I cannot speak fluently would be more than enough time.  Of course, I should have known better.

After arriving at Mona’s house and sitting for an hour with the twenty children and grandchildren that filled the tiny sitting room, Mona explained to me that we were going on a special trip to a “nadi” or club.  The club, she explained, is a members-only club for the rich, influential families of Nablus.  “Are you members?” I asked, confused and somewhat incredulous.  Was I missing something? “No, we are not members,” Mona explained.  “You see, the club is closed on Sundays.  But my mom and dad live at the club.  My dad is the security guard.  He has the key.”

Every Sunday for the past fifteen years, the whole Zeitoon clan has taken over the fields and patios of this exclusive country club, leaving the cramped spaces and cloying smells of Balata refugee camp behind.  As Mona explained to me, “everyone needs a change of air every now and then.”  Of course, Mona is  right, but I couldn’t help but be amazed at the good fortune of this family that in so many other respects seems very unfortunate.  Dispossessed of land and home, subjected to life in a dangerous and impoverished refugee camp, the Zeitoons get to spend their Sunday afternoons sitting among the rose bushes of a swanky Nabulsi country club.

So what I thought would be a two and a half hour lunch with the Zeitoon ladies turned into an eight hour extravaganza with Zeitoon uncles, aunts, grandparents, children, grandchildren, and cousins.  As I watched the multitude of Zeitoon children running around, riding bicycles, bouncing balls, and swinging on swings, I happily surrendered to the reality that I would not be able to leave the club anytime soon.  There were no cars in sight, and the only way home was by way of a Zeitoon cousin who drives a taxi. And anyway, I didn’t want to cut short the one day of the week when the Zeitoons get to enjoy themselves outside.

Together, the Zeitoons and I ate six huge trays of home-made oozi topped with sour goats milk yogurt.  We drank cup after cup of sweetened tea, black coffee, and various soft drinks.  The men of the family sat on one side of the empty parking lot under a loquat tree  smoking argileh.  The ladies sat on the other side of the parking lot with the babies, toddlers, teenagers, and other youth of the Zeitoon clan.  The division of labor in the family was clear: the ladies took care of everything.  They prepared the trays of food, set up the tables, fed the army of children, cleaned the tables, and organized whatever needed to be organized.  Meanwhile, the men sat, smoked, and ate.

Finally, at 9:30 at night, when the mosquitoes and the cold-night air no longer made sitting outside comfortable, the family started to consider heading back to the camp.  They packed me into the first shuttle back to the city, my hands overflowing with fresh loquats and a new basil plant.  I went to bed that night stuffed to the gills and smiling, feeling lucky that I got to share in a little bit of this crazy family’s fun.

-Mary

Mary is an intern at TYO Nablus and a participant in the Kalimatna Initiative.

Intern Journal: Things that Grow

In the last class before a week-long break my students set up beans for sprouting. All it takes is a wet cotton ball, some beans, and a small dish or Dixie cup. We set them near a window, and I added a little water throughout the break. By the time the kids returned, all of their beans had roots and a few green leaves were even poking through. So we transferred the sprouts from the small cups to larger plastic containers, which they decorated with crayons and constructed paper and filled with soil.

When I checked on the sprouts I was delighted to see that one of the plants growing the fastest belongs to Mohammed, an 8-year-old whose motor skills and conceptual skills have been visibly “behind” the others in most of our activities. By speaking with Suhad, our psychosocial specialist, I had learned that Mohammed is the middle child between two brothers. In most Palestinian families, the oldest boy has a close relationship with the father. Additionally, in Mohammed’s family, the youngest boy has a heart problem, causing his mother to be away at a hospital in Jerusalem for long periods of time. Mohammed has been left to try to comprehend the world on his own since the age of three. Combined with the raids and violence that all of my students have seen, it’s no wonder Mohammed’s development has been stunted.

But it isn’t just Mohammed’s plant that is growing. In many classes I find him looking to the paper of the person next to him to copy their drawing. Sometimes his older brother, Sa’ed, simply does the work for him, particularly when it involves using scissors. On Thursday Mohammed came to class without Sa’ed, who was on an excursion with their father. When we began our creating flowers from recycled plastic bags, Mohammed sat focused on the materials in front of him. I held the rolled-up plastic bag while he wrapped a rubber band around it and then slowly crossed it to wrap it around again. “Yes, Mohammed, mumtaz!” I cried when he completed the task perfectly. I offered him the lone pair of large scissors we had and again held the plastic while he cut. Then he fluffed out the plastic to form the petals. He looked up at me expectantly, displaying his creation. “Helwa kiteer!” I exclaimed, meaning extremely beautiful, and referring to both the flower and the child. I could have done a dance to those words.

-Kara

Kara is an intern at TYO Nablus and a participant in the Kalimatna Initiative.

Intern Journal: A Great Week for the Kids’ Class

Puppets are the way to go!

Since puppets were so successful last semester, I decided to incorporate them again this semester, even though many of my students are veterans of my class. In fact, I’m not sure that they’re even signed up for the class, they just come because they came last semester, liked it, and continue to show up twice a week at the same time! I don’t have the heart to turn anyone away, not even the kids who come with 1 or 2 younger siblings in tow. Today I ordered 30 juices for my students (TYO gives the children a healthy snack every class) and had to scrounge around for 3 more! I take it as a sign that they are enjoying the class.

For Monday’s class, I had the students make puppets, and they produced some adorable miniature people. Some were in suits, some were in sparkly dresses, and all had a major amount of character.  For Wednesday’s class, I was going to have them perform little skits with their puppets in the puppet theater!  Where was my puppet theater?

Last semester, as you’ll remember from the photos posted on this blog, I created a puppet theater that I was immensely proud of and that the kids enjoyed playing with… perhaps a bit too much in fact because it was nearly destroyed within days of its introduction and even after one repair attempt. For the day’s class I was going to built another one, but my sage friend and fellow teacher Doris offered some wonderful wisdom: why not just let the kids make the theaters?

Yes!

I managed to find about 5 or 6 boxes of suitable size and have them ready for class. I was able to divide the students into five groups, each headed by a volunteer, and each with a bit of cardboard to cut, paint, sticker and glue into their very own puppet theater.

With all of my kids and volunteers engaged, I was able to assist a student of mine who has been acting out lately. He is a great kid, very funny, but tends to get alienated and wander off with his yo yo. He and I built our theater together and in our next class we’ll put on a show with it!

At the end of the class, most of the groups had time to tidy up their space a bit, though some will have to finish their project next week. I handed each a juice box and said, “shukran! ma salaama!” (Arabic: Thank you, goodbye!) and they headed home.

If one out of every ten classes goes as wonderfully as today’s, I will be immensely happy!

-Bieta

Bieta is an intern at TYO Nablus and a participant in the Kalimatna Initiative.

Photo of the Day: We love Kanafa!

Kanafa!, originally uploaded by tyo_nablus.

Spring Intern Mary enjoys a warm plate of kanafa at Al-Aqsa knafa in Nablus’ Old City.

FYI: TYO is looking for Summer 2010 interns–download the application today!