When we began our first level medic course here in Khan Younis Red Crescent after the Israeli attacks, we found a lot of black humour in the training slides, developed in America, which their authors were probably unaware of. The smiling medic pairs, wheeling Aryan children – sitting up and looking unaccountably cheerful – into shiny ambulances, seemed like some sort of sick joke. (more…)
Posted tagged ‘faraheen’
Last night I was playing chess in the shisha cafe across from Al Quds Red Crescent, where I am sure to find a familiar face and where they seem to have got over me being a girl in amongst the shebab, when I got a text from the south. “Our friends J and L were trying to fix the asbestos sheeting on their farmhouse roof in Faraheen today…” it began. (more…)
In the taxi on the way back from Al Fukhary tonight, E is on the phone checking if we can visit Abd tomorrow in Al Wafa hospital to deliver the chess set. “Fil asr.” she finishes.
“Is ‘asr‘ arabic for afternoon?” I ask.
“Well, maybe. Unless it’s the word for honey.” she says thoughtfully.
“No, that’s asal.” I say.
“And as long as it’s not the word for juice.”
“No, that’s asir.”
“Then if I didn’t say we’d meet him in the honey or in the juice, I probably said we’d meet him in the afternoon.” (more…)