It was an accident..

At long last finally we got our washing machine fix today. Samir, the academic supervisor's husband and my student's father picked me up early from school today to go and pick up the repair guy so that I could bring them all home, let them in and supervise the whole thing. On the way home I was making small talk with Samir, who speaks English quite well from living in Chicago for ten years. I was asking him about the furniture in my apartment and where it came from. Since the day I moved in i was amused that it is identical to my furniture in China. I was asking if it was made in China or Nablus. He told me that it was made in Nablus, in fact it was made in his family's furniture factory in the center of the old town. Which lead in to a long story about the death of his brother.
Samir was different than his brother because he was serious about school and figured out a way to go to Medical School, move to America and become a doctor there. His brother was a much simpler man. He barely finished high school and went into the family furniture making business, worked hard at what he did and stayed out of trouble. He was forty years old in 2003, married and the father of three children. 2003 was the time of the three month curfew.
Everyone here as told me about their experiences during this time. Everyone was forced to stay in their homes for 10 days at a time. If you were to dare to step foot outside your house, you were shot. If you even looked out your window you were shot. Every 10 days the curfew was called off for 3 hours so that people could shop. Matters were made even worse because, here a two story house doesn't have an interior staircase. If you want to go up stairs in the same house, you first go outside and then up. So for those three months people couldn't get up or downstairs in their own homes. Everyone was confined to one floor and in the center room of the house, trying to avoid all windows or openings to the outside.
The day the curfew was called off for good that year, Samir's brother went to his factory to check on things. Hiding in the factory was a soldier who didn't realize the curfew was called off. He shot Samir's brother dead with one bullet.
Samir was quite clear that this was an accident. And seemed so matter of fact about it. He decided then and there to move his family back to Palestine from Chicago to full fill his family responsibility. He needed to be the uncle, brother-in-law, son to everyone who had lost. Except to express my sincere sympathy, what does one say?
Samir's children are all American citizens and can't wait for the day that they can return to the life they left and lost.
Again and again I hear stories like this. Some people are full of pain and grief when they tell me. Others have moved on.
I have met several families who were living overseas when the father's felt the incredible tug to move their families back to Palestine and do their duty to the ones left here. So far it, it is their children and adult children that I have met who all struggle with the decision to move back here. Some of them have come to peace with it and are trying to figure out how they can move back overseas but still try to take care of their elders and maintain a good Muslim Palestinian values where ever they go.
It is such a contrast to me from the people I am used to being around. Latino's move to other countries out of loyalty to their family to send money home for the people at home to survive. Filipinos do the same. In Korea I worked with a migrant workers community center and met people from all over the world who didn't like Korea at all but needed to be their for their families.
In Palestine, the people here feel like they need to hold their ground. If everyone seeks a better life in another country, there won't be anyone left to make claim to the country of Palestine and it will be swallowed up whole by their neighbors. Not only do the people who return feel like need to take care of their elders but also to respect the thousands of years of ancestors who lived here in Nablus not to mention their own future generations.
It is a lot to think about and ponder.