Tasting the Sky: A Palestinian Childhood

“I should have known a front seat lets one see more of what lies ahead.”

At the start of her memoir, Ibtisam initially wishes she had hidden in the back of the bus boarded by Israeli soldiers the way she figuratively hides from her unpleasant childhood memories. She does not want to see the unhappiness of war. By the end of her memoir, however, Ibtisam is glad she revisited her past, and thanks Alef, who always sits in the front of the bus of alphabets and, farsighted, sees peace. Ibtisam’s memoir comments on the power of language to heal, face the truth, and move forward. She no longer hides from her memories but looks forward to the “new road before her” (169).

“Khalas, insay, insay…Forget, just forget.”

Mother advises Ibtisam to be invisible and to stay hidden by avoiding talking about politics, keeping out of trouble with the soldiers, and forgetting painful memories that fester inside. Ibtisam initially follows Mother’s advice but realizes that she wants to remember and piece her life back together. Writing her memoir and restoring her memories is therapeutic. Mother, in contrast, continues to live in fear that a terrible event is imminent.

“I have my freedom. It is hidden in Post Office Box 34.”

Although Ibtisam is constrained by parental rules and the regulations of the Israeli occupying forces, she feels a sense of freedom and independence in her communication with her international pen pals. The ability to write to, learn about, and connect with others is freeing. Ibtisam is hopeful that language and communication will help lead to peace.

“Making words in Arabic is like planting a field with seeds, growing an orchard—words hang on the vines like grape clusters, leaves throw shadows of meanings to the ground.”

Ibtisam illustrates her writing prowess using nature imagery to describe the Arabic language. Ibtisam’s comparison of language to cultivating plants suggests language is something both growing and organic, but also nuanced and structured. Her figurative language makes a vivid visual image for the reader.

“I feel at home nowhere.”

As a young child, Ibtisam suffers the loss of the home of her heart and the loss of her sense of safety with her family: significant parts of her childhood innocence. Teenage Ibtisam still feels like a refugee in her homeland, adrift. In her free verse poem at the end of Part 1, Ibtisam asks her heart to take her home to the memories she repressed.

“When a war ends, it does not go away…It hides inside us.”

Mother’s comment reflects the lasting aftereffects of war and the continuing anxiety of life under foreign occupation. Mother urges Ibtisam to bury the pain of her memories, but forgetting does not make the pain go away. Father’s nightmares reveal the deep-seated psychological and emotional effects of war: Father is “ill” with war.

“My heart ached, my feet burned, and something in me still felt confused and lost. But I was no longer alone. Once again, I was with my family. Together we entered the second day of war.”

Being separated from her family and left behind as the war begins is the memory that Ibtisam chooses to open the narrative of her young childhood. It is one of the first losses that erode her childhood innocence. She experiences feelings of loss and abandonment at three and a half years old that haunt her memories and make her fearful even when she is with her family.

“His name is Alef…”

Mother introduces Ibtisam to Alef, the first letter of the Arabic alphabet, igniting a passion for learning that will change Ibtisam’s life. Learning about Alef and his family gives Ibtisam the knowledge and ability to write, ultimately giving Ibtisam the freedom to express herself, connect with others, and emotionally begin to heal.

“We lost Palestine…The pastries are nothing.”

The pastry vendor forgives Ibtisam and her brothers for stealing his pastries and releases her family from repaying. His comment that his financial loss pales in comparison to the loss of losing his homeland reveals the deep, personal effect that the war has on everyday people and reflects the importance of Palestinians’ ancestral home.

“They told me this showed that on the inside they were never broken, no matter how bad the pain.”

Ibtisam writes in her dedication that her brothers are her heroes, and Basel and Muhammad truly support their little sister through all the hardships of their childhoods. Here, the boys show Ibtisam how to show mental fortitude in the face of punishment. Preschooler Ibtisam reveals her love for her brothers as she emulates them and illustrates her strong character in her youthful defiance.

“Our children are treated like orphans while we live…”

Father feels guilty hearing the stories of how Basel and Muhammad are mistreated at the orphanage and how miserable they are. Mother, in contrast, is frightened and unhappy at the thought of returning home with the children. Ibtisam sees that the decision to return home is complicated, and for a small child, she is maturely resigned to her parents’ choices. Her understanding and acceptance of aloneness show the erosion of her childhood innocence.

“Flapping my arms to let the breeze tickle me, for a moment I felt free, like a bird, tasing the sky.”

Being home, where Ibtisam knows and loves every nook and cranny inside and all the landscape outside, makes Ibtisam feel a sense of being as free as a bird, removed from the daily fears and other emotional aftereffects of the war. Ibtisam symbolically uses birds to represent freedom and joy.

“But school and learning were just as sacred to Mother.”

Mother readies the boys’ outfits for school the same way she does for religious holidays, reflecting how much she values education. Mother regrets that her own education was cut short. Mother craves learning and wants the boys and Ibtisam to succeed where she could not. Both Mother’s and Father’s attitudes toward learning reflect the importance of education in Palestinian culture.

“Greetings, greetings: / People in the occupied land—/ People who are planted / In your homes like trees— / My heart is with you, / I send you regards of peace.”

The theme song of the radio program Rasa’el Shawq represents the powerful emotions of refugees who could not return to their homes in Palestine and shows the far-reaching effects of the wars of both 1948 and 1967. Comparing those who remain in Palestine to “trees” shows the refugees’ desire for both their homeland and stability. They long for their lost homes and familial connections.

“Grandma loved trees with all her heart, perhaps the way I loved Zuraiqee.”

Ibtisam sees how Grandma Fatima tends her “adopted” orchards. Forced to flee her village in the war of 1948, Grandma Fatima still misses her family’s land. Grandma Fatima illustrates how important land and agriculture are in Palestinian culture. Grandma feels her trees are “family and calls their fruit her ‘children.’”

“Enduring pain makes you a man…”

Abu Qazem, who performs the circumcisions on Basel and Muhammad, praises Basel’s courage. His comment reflects the Palestinian culture’s adherence to traditional gender roles. Men are expected to be strong, to hold authority in their family, and command their respect. At just seven and eight years old, Basel and Muhammad now begin to leave their childhood behind: “circumcision turned boys into men” (125).

“That was the first time she had uttered such an expression of affection to me.”

Preparing Ibtisam for her first day of school, Mother tells Ibtisam she loves her—something Ibtisam has never heard her say. Mother expresses her love in the context of education: Mother wants Ibtisam to rank highest in her class, succeeding where Mother could not in her own educational career. Ibtisam is thrilled with Mother’s affection but worries about its conditions, and whether she can keep it, a troubling anxiety for a young child.

“The river of our voices often reminded me of the soldiers near my house. They chanted, too.”

Ibtisam recites the Qur’an with her schoolmates, “daily asking God to show them the right path” (147). This quote reveals how central Ibtisam’s Muslim faith is to her daily life. Ibtisam wonders if the soldiers, marching to their training ground, are also praying for guidance. Exploring the idea that the Israeli soldiers may not be very different from them reveals Ibtisam’s curiosity and empathy.

“But I never could understand why a boy could play outside while a girl must stay in and work.”

Ibtisam voices her frustration with the inequity of traditional gender roles. She thinks it is unfair that boys have more freedom than girls. In Palestinian culture, depending on economic status and how conservative one’s family is, women and girls typically perform domestic duties around the house. Mother expects Ibtisam to take over more chores during Mother’s pregnancy. She does not have that expectation for Basel and Muhammad because, simply, “They are boys!” (151).

“Migrating birds appeared as though barrels of confetti had been poured across the sky and swirled in endless formations.”

This simile highlights Ibtisam’s use of figurative language to convey emotion and meaning. The birds represent freedom and joy, emotions that Ibtisam feels as she begins her new school year.

“Jamal Abdel Nasser has died...Now we are all orphans.”

To many Palestinians, the Egyptian leader represented the hope of freedom from Israeli rule. Father compares Nasser to a parental figure: Without his guidance, Arab unity is lost, and with it Palestinian freedom. Palestine no longer has a powerful advocate. Father’s intense grief over Nasser’s death reveals his longing for Palestinian independence and peace.

“He raised his head and looked at the sky. ‘What have I done to deserve this sorrow?’ he shouted. ‘I neither drink alcohol nor gamble, as you ordered. I don’t even smoke,’ he pleaded with God.” 

Forced to leave his home again, Father questions God much like the biblical figure Job. In Islam, Job, or “Ayyūb” is considered a prophet. The Qur’an describes Job as a faithful servant of God who, like Father, though he faced suffering and hardship, did not lose faith in God but prayed to him faithfully for relief. Although Father has a moment of despair at his loss, he has a strong religious faith.

“I will never regret that I chose to remember.”

Ibtisam recognizes that remembering the painful losses of her childhood makes her free. It took courage to lift the “curtain” over her memories, but thanks to Alef and the writing process, Ibtisam begins to feel whole again. She can now talk about her childhood with her pen pals and move unburdened into the future.