Home Spirit
By:
Saleh Ibrahim
When the great withdrawal [1] took place, my entire
being trembled with joy. Yes, I will return to my
village, to my home, to my childhood. I will return
after a long absence that lasted eighteen years.
***
I was trapped by a long traffic jam of vehicles and
human beings before I could reach my destiny.
***
My car advanced slowly with the picture of my house
invading my imagination. It perfectly blends with
the hill because it was built at its foot and was
made from its rocks. Being small and rocky gave it
all the beauty it needed. A piece of land stretched
in front it, which we planted in the past. What was
mostly beautiful about it was that it is my home.
However, I was forced to abandon it when the great
attack [2] took place. I was afraid of reaching home
to find that my house has been demolished.
***
My car advanced slowly while I recalled parts of my
childhood. I could feel my eyes almost watering with
tears, especially when I remembered my childhood pal
"Ziad," whom I have not seen ever since. I heard
great news about him but I never verified them. Will
I be able to find him in the village? Is he there in
the first place? Everything beautiful about my
childhood is tied to him, especially the "small
tree" and the "cave."
The small tree remains present in my conscience.
Ziad told me once as we broke open the walnuts for
eating: "If we leave a walnut hanging on the tree
until the end of September, after which we plant it,
it will grow into another tree."
I was stunned by the idea in my childhood: Plant a
walnut and it will become a tree in September! I did
not remember this issue until I saw the walnut
hanging at the top of the tree near Ziad's home at
the center of the village.
I stoned a walnut until it fell. I took it and went
quickly to my small land of my home, where I dug a
small hole, placed it in, and covered it with soil.
A few months later, early next summer, the surprise
filled me with joy. The walnut grew into a buddy
tree.
Ziad said to me: "You must water it every week." I
watered it once and the great attack took place… Did
my tree die?
***
The "cave" on the other hand was our favorite place.
Ziad and I would play inside with our screams
deafening our mothers… We can reach the cave
straight from the balcony of our kitchen via a rocky
narrow path… It splits into two parts: the first is
like a lobby whereas the second is like a small
chamber connected to a devious cavity which cannot
be easily noticed by others even if they entered the
lobby.
This place was a special part of our childhood. It
remains present in my memory after all these years.
It was a place for our "forbidden" games, such as
the game of making dough and baking bread, which we
played without our mothers' consent. We would take
flower, water and salt behind their backs, and
there, we would make a small fire and place above it
a metal plate on which we would bake the dough…
The cave was also our hiding place, where we would
hide anything we love and treasure. There, I last
hid my favorite toy, which was a little white car,
the size of my fist… I placed it inside a narrow
rocky crack inside the small chamber… There, I left
it with my childhood, awesomeness and fear from the
great attack.
Will I find it today when I reach there even if I
find my house demolished or toppled? What will
change the cave especially the inner chamber and
particularly the rocky crack where my toy was
treasured? Did they (the enemy) demolish the cave as
well?
***
I am still trapped in the traffic jam of the
returning vehicles and people. The face of Ziad is
slipping off my memory. Is he the man whom they
described to me?
***
As I approached my village I recalled the picture of
my house and some details of my childhood again. It
is true I was absent for eighteen years and that
those details left my mind sometimes, yet they
remain with me, inside me, invading my being from
time to time, leaving me enchanted by nostalgia.
Now, I feel that these years almost equal a moment…
I can regain the smell of the place with all its
details and colors.
***
I finally reached my village. The hill looked very
clear to me… My mouth dried up, my heart palpitated
strongly for my house appeared to me like an unclear
image… Yes, it is my home, yet this image looked
somehow different from that resident in my memory:
the hill remains the same whereas the house is faded
in colors. Another scene clearly changed the entire
picture: there was a huge tree next to my home which
made me doubt for a moment the authenticity of my
expectation …
As I arrived nearer the picture became clearer. It
is my house with the huge tree next to it. It must
be the childhood buddy tree that I planted with my
own hands. It is now a magnificent tree, leafy and
vivid.
Yes, this is my house; it was not demolished and
remains steady in its place… My heart almost pumped
out of my rib cage. I entered with my blood almost
bursting out of my veins… Everything inside was
surprising… There are no spiders or insects… It
smells like the rest of the homes that were not
abandoned. It smells like human beings… Some smell
of food, coffee and cigarettes remain resident… It
is not very clean yet it is not dirty! Everything
remains almost in its place, or that's how I
imagine.
Spontaneously, without any thinking, I entered the
kitchen to find another surprise: some dishes and
cups were still in the sink… Some good chairs were
in the middle… Some ashtrays were full of ashes! I
exited to the balcony with a joy, some questions,
and a picture of Ziad. From there, I moved along the
rocky path to the "cave."
My eyes watered with tears… I almost sobbed… My
childhood moved the depth of my soul because of the
years that I spent away from this place. However,
these years were dwarfed by a moment, one forgotten
moment, which my heart treasures inside my memory.
The smell of the place shocked me again. It is
exactly the same smell of the house. It was a mix of
moldiness and the smoke of our little fire. But now
the smell of moldiness vanished to be replaced by a
smell of tobacco, smoking and people… Who changed
the smell of the place?
I entered the devious small chamber where my feet
hit a huge fragile pile. I used the lighter. They
were walnut shells. Behind them, bags were packed! I
entered my hand inside one of the bags to hit a
rough metal, rough cold metal. I retreated to reach
out for my toy which I placed here eighteen years
ago, but could not find it!
I returned to my house and was surprised by him; is
it Ziad? Yes, this is him. This is his walk. These
are the colors of his eyes. This is his smile. My
eyes cried with tears. He smiled at me and we
embraced each other.
We entered the kitchen together in a spontaneous
way, like we used to do when we were children. We
sat down and I looked straight in his eyes,
wondering. He smiled with confusion. I looked at him
again and he gestured with his head to say yes! What
I heard about him was true! I cannot describe my
feelings. All I could say is that I could have
slackened the reins of myself to express my joy with
him, with my house and my tree…
While I was spinning by my emotions, Ziad entered my
bedroom and I followed him. He reached out for the
place beneath the pillow that was on my bed. And
from there, he brought out my little white car and
placed it in my hand.
[1] The
great withdrawal: the withdrawal of the Israeli army
from south Lebanon on May 25, 2000.
[2] The great attack: The 1982 Israeli invasion of
Lebanon.
