Tasting the Sky (2011)
“the opening chapter of the Qur’an. I knew this short chapter by heart and looked forward to the group reading. Its words had a fresh taste when spoken out loud and made me feel that I belonged with the Jalazone girls the way a drop of water belongs in the rain.
The river of our voices often reminded me of the soldiers near my house. They chanted, too. But unlike the schoolgirls who stood in the playground, the soldiers stomped and marched. I wondered if they were praying. Were they like us—daily asking God to show them the right path?
My morning excitement about “Surat Al-Fatihah” was interrupted daily by having to drink UNRWA milk. When ordered to do so by teachers, I untied the plastic cup I kept tied to my belt and waited for my turn. When it came, I watched the milk fill the cup as though it were liquid pain. It was nauseating. It tasted nothing like the milk our goat gave us. I tried to spill the milk somewhere when my teachers blinked, or give it to one of the girls from another... class who did not mind the taste.MoreLess
The river of our voices often reminded me of the soldiers near my house. They chanted, too. But unlike the schoolgirls who stood in the playground, the soldiers stomped and marched. I wondered if they were praying. Were they like us—daily asking God to show them the right path?
My morning excitement about “Surat Al-Fatihah” was interrupted daily by having to drink UNRWA milk. When ordered to do so by teachers, I untied the plastic cup I kept tied to my belt and waited for my turn. When it came, I watched the milk fill the cup as though it were liquid pain. It was nauseating. It tasted nothing like the milk our goat gave us. I tried to spill the milk somewhere when my teachers blinked, or give it to one of the girls from another... class who did not mind the taste.MoreLess
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