From the other side

I started writing this post from the living room of my grandmother’s house in Nablus overlooking a breathtaking panoramic view of what is known here as the northern mountain or Mount Ebal.

Ever since my sister and I arrived I was so eager to sit down and put on paper the beauty that my eyes and heart have captured in the past few days.

I was raised to love this city and appreciate its beauty despite all the difficulties and humiliation we used to endure while crossing the bridge. 

Every time we come to Nablus my father would take us to the old city to walk on the footsteps of his childhood. You could see the pride in his eyes and smile while telling us all the stories about his school, his father, grandfather, the family business or what was called the ‘sabbaneh’ where they used to make Nabulsi soap and tahini.  The tour would always end with a big breakfast in the old city with the rest of the family men who’d take a break from work to join the feast!

This gathering would be the only party we’d know and enjoy in Nablus.

Above: The old city
Below: View from my grandmother's kitchen

Because of the occupation everyone would go home before sunset and stay there till the next day. We weren’t allowed to look out the window or even think of going out on our own. Crossing the bridge used to take hours and when you’d think it was over you’d be welcomed by another checkpoint right outside the city making it look like a huge prison.

When we crossed a few days ago I was dreading the experience. But when my cousin started driving through Jericho I knew that this time we were going to see a different face of Palestine. We were pleasantly surprised to find out that the checkpoint outside Nablus was removed and that we can actually drive into the city without having to show any ID or walk for a mile to take a taxi from the other side.

Spring was all around. The road was greener than I’ve ever noticed. Suddenly I felt this huge anticipation to get there. The minute we drove into the city my heart dropped.  I felt like a little child so eager to get out of the car and run to my grandmother’s house.

The neighbourhood was still the same, but something was different in the air. It felt as if everything, the roads, the trees started to breath again.

The biggest surprise was the view from the living room. As the Arabic proverb says “the view adds years to your life!”

For years we’d take a peak of the mountain through tiny holes of security grilles, which my grandmother decided to remove recently as if to usher in the beginning of a new chapter in the city’s history.

Just like my grandmother, I felt the whole city got rid of its own grilles.

Though people still live under occupation they started to get a taste of what it feels like to lead a normal life.  Little things we take for granted like eating out, going to the movies or having brunch in a nice cafe, to them were major breakthroughs. 

I couldn’t believe my eyes when my cousins took us for a drive around the city. It felt like we were being introduced to Nablus for the first time. I had never in my life seen a normal Nabulsi family enjoy a nice meal or a picnic on a Friday.

We spent the rest of the trip with open jaws and nostalgic hearts. Unlike the old days, this time it was hard to say goodbye.

On the way back to Jericho I was thinking how privileged I am that I can actually see the other side with all its beauty and not only hear the sad stories that always manage to suppress the new realities that inject happiness into people’s hearts from time to time.