the rhythms of my youth / remembering palestine

The days were cooler than expected when we arrived in Palestine, a few of us girls would sneak up to the rooftop light up a cigarette or two and mull over the day's events. We were always crouched low against the safety walls, because "they" were watching. I could never figure out if it was the Israeli side or the Palestinian side but someone was. Rooftops and balconies had become our place of quiet, of rest, of conversations that challenged the core of what we believed. Those rooftops often shared heavy doubts and uncontrollable laughter. The best. The worst. More often than not it would share our silence as we took in the beauty and the sadness of this land, when we ran out of words to describe everything we saw, how we could feel so alive and how sometimes we felt so very useless...