kanafeh anyone?...

I don't even know where to start talking about my recent day in Nablus. So, I suppose it begins at kanafeh. A couple of weeks ago the city of Nablus was celebrating the entrance of the world's biggest kanafeh into the Guinness Book of World Records. It was the talk of Palestine without a doubt. I took the bus from Ramallah into the city center of Nablus and as soon as I saw the duar (square) I knew that I was in for a crazy day. After picking up a young American couple who just started working at the university, I headed into the madness of thousands and thousands of people gathering around the huge pan of kanafeh. I was in awe. Within a few minutes I ran into Mithqal and his little brother, Muhamed and his friend, Muhamed, who was there with his nephew, who's name was Muhamed. And no, I am not joking. Not much later another friend of Mithqal's came along to join us. Surprise, surprise... his name was also Muhamed.

So there we stood in the midst of this massive crowd. Me, getting stared at intensively, being the only non-Arab person around. Old Palestinian women pushing and shoving to get past us. Teenage boys oogling at the tattoo on my back that is barely peeking out from the top of my shirt. Actually seeing the kanafeh was impossible as the crowd surrounding it was at least 40-50 people deep. The next step was to try and get up high in one of the surrounding buildings. Unfortunately they were all locked. We were shooed away from one building as security preparations for the arrival of Palestinian PM Salam Fayyad were underway. A little after 11am, and after the press had taken the necessary pictures, the flood gates opened for the public to get a piece of this kanafeh, this moment in history. We were shoved along with the flow of hundreds of people trying to get their piece.

For some reason, despite the crowds and heat, I was determined. I started pushing my way towards the goal. I made it as close as I could and made eye contact with one of the kanafeh distributors. We gave each other a knowing look and a few seconds later, after holding up my hands in an Oliver type manner, I had myself about 4 pieces of this famous Nablusi dessert. I continued holding my hands up as if I was holding manna from heaven and made my way slowly through the crowd until it began to slightly dissipate. Afterwards, I followed Mithqal and his friends to a the Nablus Coffee Shop. I knew immediately that it was a men only coffee shop and was a bit apprehensive about entering; however I was reassured that because I am a foreign woman that it was ok. We were able to get a fabulous view of Nablus, while drinking fresh limon ma nana. Such a nice break from the craziness that was happening and that I had just escaped down below.

After refreshing ourselves we headed into the Old City with its narrow alleyways, ancient mosques, spice shops, sweet shops, and beautiful vintage barber shops. There is something about Nablus' Old City that is so much more authentic than, say, Jerusalem's. I love seeing the butchers in their tiny little alcoves and their huge wooden/tree trunk chopping blocks. I love seeing the children playing with toy guns in the tiny streets. I love seeing the cheap, plastic Palestinian flags flying proud strewn across the pathways. I love seeing the oldest mosque in the city always being filled to its capactiy on any given day at any given time. I love that we can just walk into one of the 2 ancient Turkish baths and be given an on the spot tour. I love that there are parks erected on the sites of horrible massacres that have occurred at the hands of the Israelis. I love that I can watch kanafeh being made by some of the most expressively jolly men I have ever seen. As usual, the beauty of this city never ceases to amaze me.

After a busy day in the hectic crowds and hot hot heat in Nablus, I had the chance to escape with Mithqal and his family to their village. Yitma is a small village about 10 miles south of Nablus and Mithqal's extended family owns a huge portion of it. We arrived at the family's "hill", where there are several houses that were built by the family decades ago. It was beautiful and peaceful. We sat out in their large garden smoking nargileh underneath a fig tree eating fresh picked almonds as the sun slowly creeped below the horizon. Palestine at its finest.