Remember the stories of Nawara: everything, including the tragedies. Remember this one, whose house was built on American money and now stands empty as he waits for retirement age, hoping he will not have a heart attack before then, hoping the Israelis will not move in before he comes home. Remember the ones who left, who fled, whose memories are vague and lives are changed. Remember the young men in their prime, who work twelve-hour days, driving taxis, running grocery stores, selling merchandise door to door. Remember all those women lost in different ways, with no tomorrows. Remember the young ones, who came here as babies, but who cannot remember what they have not seen and therefore have no reason to behave.

Eyes open slowly, the white walls are softer.

I get out of bed and go to the box where I keep all my pictures. As I go through them one by one, I put a few aside: this one overlooking the farm goes over my desk. This one of me with my mother goes on the dresser. This one of Latifa dancing in her loud, blue dress at my brother’s wedding, this one will go next to my mother on the dresser. And this one that Latifa took of me with Sharif, this goes by the bed.

The day goes on. I take the extra car and drive to the mall to buy frames of all sizes and colors. I pass a travel agent and ask for posters of Jordan. They only have Morocco and Egypt, which will do. By evening the bare walls are bearable, lively, different and familiar. I sit on the floor and stare, then close my eyes. It is deep nighttime in Amman—and in Nawara—and I have tucked my memories under a scratchy blanket, wishing them the sweetest dreams as I open my eyes to a new, but not unfamiliar world.

Acknowledgments

Acknowledgments

My gratitude to the Fulbright Foundation.

To the Abu Saud Sawaid family, Marwan Mahmoud, Houri Berberian, Jimmie Harris III, Pam Grammer, and Helene Atwan, great thanks for all of your time, patience, and generosity.

To my mother, Margaret Halaby, thank you for your encouragement, love, and incredible attention to detail.

To my husband, Raik, and my children: alf shukr wa shukr for your endless support, patience, and love.