Haifa Fragments. khulud khamis

      

      Photo: Talma Bar-Din

      khulud khamis is a Palestinian writer and activist, born to a Slovak mother and a Palestinian father. She holds a Master’s degree in English Literature from the University of Haifa and works in the field of social change. She is a member of the feminist organization Isha L’Isha – Haifa Feminist Centre. She lives in Haifa with her daughter. This is her first novel. khulud publishes some of her writings on her blog at: www.HaifaFieldnotes.blogspot.com

       Haifa Fragments

      Published in the UK in 2015 by

      New Internationalist Publications Ltd

      The Old Music Hall

      106-108 Cowley Road

      Oxford

      OX4 1JE, UK

       newint.org

      First published in Australia in 2015 by Spinifex Press Pty Ltd

       www.spinifexpress.com.au

      © khulud khamis, 2015

      Parts of this book originally appeared in different forms on the Haifa Fieldnotes blog: <www.HaifaFieldnotes.blogspot.com>.

      All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher.

      Editors: Bernadette Green and Susan Hawthorne

      Cover design: Deb Snibson and Amy Guest, incorporating Estelle Disch’s photograph ‘Structure’, 2013, which is reproduced with permission.

      British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data.

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

      (ISBN ebook 978-1-78026-260-4)

       For my parents, Emilia and Nassim

      Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Naming Conventions

       Glossary

Acknowledgements

      I would like to thank my parents, Emilia and Nassim, for being patient and supportive throughout the whole process of writing this novel. My daughter, Michelle, for putting up with my moods during the writing process. I owe a large part of my development as a writer to the community of Isha L’Isha – Haifa Feminist Center’s women. I found in you sisters, friends, and mothers. You gave me the strength and courage to bring my writing to a completely new level, and to realize that my voice has legitimacy to be out there in the public sphere, and not only in my desk drawer. Special thanks to my two dear friends Galia and Talma who have always been there for me, picking me up during difficult times, guiding, supporting, and motivating me. To Naief, thank you for your love, your endless support, and for making me laugh.

      I would like to express my deep gratitude to Susan Hawthorne from Spinifex Press for believing in me and for seeing the potential of my manuscript, and for giving me this in valuable opportunity to publish my work. Last but not least, I would like to thank my editor, Bernadette Green, for her sensitivity, understanding, and gentle yet professional handling of my text.

      When Maisoon was 16, her grandmother called her into the salu.¹ Shifting her ample frame on the old sofa she made room for her granddaughter. She cupped Maisoon’s face in her hands and her granddaughter’s dark hair fell over her arms. “Maisoon, I want to tell you the story of your name.” She patted Maisoon on the knee and didn’t stop until she had finished.

      “It was 1948, Haifa’s last battle. I was eight months pregnant. Seedo was away with the rest of the young men. I don’t know what he did exactly, because he refused to carry a weapon. The Yahud lived up the mountain, and we were down here. The night the first barrels were rolled down from Share’a El-Jabal … I remember that night. I was alone at the house with your father Majid. I heard screaming outside, and I saw our neighbour Haneen running out—and up and up the mountain.

      “She had six small children in the house. Her husband had been among the first ones to be killed, and she lost her mind. Haneen the majnouny we called her. She would wail for hours every night. It was like the sound of an animal. I don’t think she ever slept. Someone from the church had come and tried to take her children. Ya rab! I never saw a mother fight like Haneen for her children. Haneen’s whole world was her family … On that night, she wanted to stop the barrels with her bare body. When I saw her running, I didn’t think. I took little Majid in my arms and ran after her, but Haneen was fast and I was pregnant. Or maybe I should have left Majid at home but I couldn’t … how could I? …

      “That night a woman from the church came and took all of Haneen’s children. And that night I lay down on the kitchen floor and bled. I bled and I looked up and I saw through the window that the sky was red. There were sparks flying, I thought is there a celebration, someone getting married? How could they at this time … or is the sky bleeding Haneen’s death. I didn’t understand. I thought I must be losing too much blood to see the sky sparkling like that.

      “Seedo came back in the morning. I thought his clothes had my blood on them but it was not my blood. I asked Abu Majid what happened and he only looked at me and my bloody clothes