The only time I witnessed a Jew holding the Kuffyeh
The bus struggled up the narrow street in Silwan, it had privileged students: Palestinian and Jews just the same, in an attempt to be a Leftist initiative and show them the wrongdoings of the IDF in Jerusalem: the house annexations; the harassments; the dire living conditions. The bus struggled up the hill on a late July day, when the weather was so hot and Jerusalem is at its worst when it is hot. People are grumpy. They hide in their houses and as soon as the sun rays slant making the Dome look bigger, people come out like rats for a brisk walk and a breath of air. It is at that time, around sunset, that the bus climbed the hill, with the exhaust emitting perspiration, and exuding fear from the numerous souls on the bus who have never been here before and only watched the 8 o’clock news with apprehension for their cousin who serves in the army.
Three young boys: Amir, Khaled, and Fadi. They were 7, 5, and 9 years old respectively. They wanted to play video games on Fadi’s older brother, Majd, laptop. But alas! their quest was to no avail, for Majd was on another quest- one of love and chase, one which he pursued behind the glowing screen through social media chats. Having no purpose or goal for the day, they went to the street. Fadi started outlining with a big white rock a graph of a hopscotch so they can kill some time before the day is over. Amir, however, thought that this is was stupid. He was done with hopscotch. They are boys now and they should be doing something more fun. Amir thought they should get rid of Khaled, by taking him back to the house, and to embark on an adventure. An adventure similar to the one they took two weeks ago when they climbed to their neighbor’s roof and freed some pigeons from captivity.
Fadi, with his sweet demeanor, could not say no so he acquiesced to Amir’s plan.
All she can remember is the face of a kid looking at her with evil eyes. He flipped her off with both hands and threw another block. She could not believe it- she was Palestinian goddamnit! And that is when it happened. The middle-aged bus driver, who spoke with a heavy accent, snatched a black and white Kuffyeh from underneath his seat and put it on the dashboard as the bus struggled to leave Silwan as fast as possible. The pelting of stones did not stop but all she can remember is that she has witnessed a Jew with a Kuffyeh, and all his faculties were intact.
AICHA BINT YUSIF 