Nablus

I have been in Nablus for the last couple of weeks. My first few days were spent attending various lectures on Middle East politics at An-Najah National University. It was very interesting to get the Palestinian perspective on liberalism, realism, orientalism, and human rights. Walking around the campus I felt extremely exposed. Nablus is a city that is pretty fundamentalist. When I say that I don’t mean extremist, I simply mean that they follow the Islamic religion very closely. This means that the vast, vast majority of the women here cover themselves entirely except for the face. The usual choice of coverage is the ever flattering hijab. I was wearing trousers that showed my ankles, and a shirt that showed my upper back and a large portion of my upper arms. In addition to this I wore flip flop type sandals. I have never felt so exposed in my entire life.

The flat that I have called my home for the last 2 weeks is on the southwest outskirts of Nablus. It is huge with its 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, and 3 terraces. My favorite thing about it is that just to the north of the flat is a mosque, so the call to prayer can be heard very clearly. The call to prayer is one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard – I just love that it is a live person every time (no recordings) and that they are just singing their hearts out for the love of their god. Beautiful!

The view from my terrace is a neighborhood mosque.

The other day I saw a funeral. I heard a commotion outside and what sounded like moaning. I went to the window and across the valley I saw a large crowd of people gathered. The men seemed to be separated from the women and children and some of the women were sobbing and flailing their arms. I then saw the crude wooden coffin being lifted into the air and an Islamic flag thrown over the top. Carrying the coffin, the men headed towards the mosque. Once they neared the mosque the call to prayer began, but this time it was different. Although it was the same words that are normally sung, it sounded so mournful and disheartened. The men went into the mosque and about 5-10 minutes later I saw 5-6 children coming towards the mosque carrying what looked to be palm branches high in the air. Another 10 minutes after that the women finally went into the mosque. It was saddening as I wondered what happened. Was it a child? An adult? A mother? A father? A son? A daughter?