Nancy is a Compassionate Inquiry Therapist as per the psycho-therapeutic approach founded by renowned Canadian physician, Dr. Gabor Maté. She is also part of the Healthy Breast Foundations Program, designed to educate women about breast health and helps to facilitate community classes in Beyond Addiction, an internationally recognized recovery program for addiction. This year, she has plans to run wellness retreats in both Asia and Africa as well as teach in the less privileged communities of Palestine, Jordan and Lebanon. In addition, Nancy develops mindfulness initiatives for both public and private sector institutions as well as schools. 

Educated at both McGill University and the London School of Economics with an MA in International Relations, Nancy began her career in public affairs, then as a corporate banker, progressing into the world of communications and later becoming a mentor in the realm of emotional intelligence. A Certified Practitioner of Neuro Linguistic Programming (ABNLP), Timeline Therapy and Hypnotherapy, Nancy is a motivational speaker who has headlined at numerous region-wide events and been featured in both Arabic and English language media outlets across the Arab world.

How It All Started

The second of three children, Nancy grew up in Toronto with her grade school at one end of the street and high school at the other.

My friends came from a myriad of different cultures, and I had a huge, extended family, many of whom were a central part of my life in Canada. My parents were together, and I had a close relationship with both my brother and my sister. Outwardly, I had the makings of a very comfortable childhood.

The questioning around her identity began in the early 1980s, before her 7th birthday.

I remember overhearing late night conversations about my grandparents being trapped in Lebanon during the Israeli invasion of 1982 and watching the war there unravel on the evening news. I recall being terrified at the prospect of something happening to my grandparents. It was around this time that I would learn that they would once again be forced to flee their home. The first time they fled was from Palestine in 1948.

Taking In The Trauma

Nancy’s father traces his roots back to Ramleh, Palestine, about 20 kilometres inland from the coastal town of Jaffa. He was 11 years-old in 1948, during the Nakba, or Catastrophe, as it is known in Arabic. This was the year that he and his loved-ones became refugees and his family lost nearly every material possession they owned. Nancy’s mother on the other hand was just three-years-old when she and her parents escaped Haifa in 1948 to Jounieh in Lebanon. Originally from the town of Nazareth, Nancy’s maternal grandfather fled with his wife and two very small children, leaving behind his new Haifa home, his dental practice and several siblings, some of whom he would go for decades without seeing again.

Everything my parents and grandparents had ever known disappeared overnight. Family was dispersed, means were restricted and the challenges of life took on a new dimension. On many fronts, life became a struggle for survival.

Nancy’s parents understood that the situation in the Arab region was unlikely to improve and left to Canada for a better life. Their aim was to bring their children into the world free from the heavy baggage they carried and far from the trauma of loss. Little did they realize the degree to which the legacy of Palestine would linger.

Having understood how quickly material attachments could disappear, my parents put a heavy premium on education. I became a top student who attended some of the world’s best universities. I wanted to change the world and believed that a career in government and diplomacy could open the doors of truth and justice. The Canadian Foreign Service and the United Nations beckoned. I knew there was work to be done. I was determined to do something.

The Teachings of Kundalini Yoga

Nancy met her husband Cherif James Cordahi in 1998, a British-Lebanese journalist who had worked in some of the world’s toughest regions. He had covered countless conflicts globally and had lived through some of the worst years of the Lebanese civil war.

We came together in love, but it took us years to realize that through our incredibe union, we would be mirroring the other’s pain, whilst consistently shedding the light on our shadows and unfinished business. Marriage is a partnership of deep healing on the road to self-realization.

While in the Gulf, her career had taken her into the world of public affairs, finance, communications and emotional intelligence but it was the practice of Kundalini Yoga that truly transformed her life. She came across the teachings of Kundalini Yoga nearly a decade ago and began practicing it when hardly anyone had ever heard of the teachings in the Gulf Arab region.

As taught by Yogi Bhajan, Kundalini Yoga is an exquisite technology which offers tools to develop the grace and the endurance necessary to navigate the pressures of our time. It is a toolkit for awakening our latent potential, for self-crystallization and for self-actualization. The technology works deeply on the glands and the nervous system in such a way that we become more capable of inviting trajectory, sensitivity and productivity into our lives, all the while recognizing our interconnectedness on both micro and macro levels.

The teachings have taught me that my lifelong quest to make a difference in the world should no longer be focused on healing the pain of the other. The real work is in first consistently making my own heart a place of peace and integrity. I believe that surrendering to spirit and maintaining an unobstructed flow to one’s true nature is the only true vehicle for change.

Healing The Wounds Of The Region

My prayer is for the teachings to continue to serve through me and others that we may realize the one heartbeat we all share; that Spirit take away our swords, remove the walls that separate us and help us to forgive; that we resist the temptation to hold onto yesterday or to an obscured vision of tomorrow. Living a conscious life is about seeing the humanity in all, that mistakes and suffering are universal, and that forgiveness is the only true path to peace; peace of mind, peace of self, peace.

At the moment, Nancy is coordinating the third-ever Kundalini Yoga teacher-training in the Gulf Arab region with the support of her teacher, Shiv Charan Singh, founder of Karam Kriya school.

I have lived in this unique part of the world for nearly two decades and believe that the combination of my Palestinian roots and my Western education and upbringing allows me to navigate this region with a certain sensitivity and discernment. I am now part of the KRI Aquarian Teacher Academy and aspire to share the teachings with as many people from the region as possible. This year, I plan to return to my roots in Palestine, as a trainer in the first-ever Kundalini Yoga teacher-training in Bethlehem and to the refugee camps.

It is Nancy’s mission to continue to share her journey, her experience and the teachings to a much broader community in the Arab world and beyond.

The post Surrender to Spirit with Nancy appeared first on My Olive Roots.

Spoken Word Poetry

Welcome to an art form that’s recited and performed on stage, highlighting the richness of word play, intonation and voice articulation. On trend nowadays, Word Poetry embraces diverse modalities like poetry slams, jazz poetry, hip hop, traditional poetry readings, even comedy routines and prose monologues.

Poetry – the Clear Expression Of Mixed Feelings

My Olive Roots:

Why Poetry?

Farah: Poetry can make me laugh, helping me to celebrate beauty as it allows me to express pain. I began writing after my parents divorced to transcend my anger. My father moved to Brazil and remarried, and I stayed in Sharjah with my mother, who is my rock in life. At 17 I became confused with my identify and started wearing the hijab. I was trying to figure things out and thought religion would support me, but it didn’t last long. When I performed spoken word poetry, I gained confidence. Poetry allows me to channel my feelings in a way that’s healing and creative.

Dana: Poetry processes feelings, helping me to come to terms with the bittersweet reality of life on earth. When I was 14 my family moved to Riyadh, from Jordan.  It was there that I started writing, but the trigger into poetry was kick started when Al Qaeda attacked our residential compound in 2003. Thirty-nine people were killed, and over 160 wounded when bombs went off at three compounds. The incident changed my life; it was devastating. We then left to the US to recover and afresh. My father left his job and had to start over. Writing helped me heal from the incident; it became my therapy and my lifeline.

My Olive Roots: 

You both got into poetry at a young age. What did you do to develop your passion?

Farah:  When I was 13 I use to write for Poetry Soup online and published over 200 poems with them. At 16 I began attending the Poeticians, a group of writers and listeners that have come together to share their work. That’s where I met Hind Shoufani, the founder, she has been a powerful influence in my life. These poetry events would often happen in bars and I would go with my mother, sometimes dressed in costume for my performances.

Dana: When we left to the US after the terrorist attack, writing took over. I wrote for my high school magazine and entered writing competitions.  When I graduated high school, my parents moved to Dubai and I stayed behind to attend the University of Kansas to study Business and English.  I hated it and desperately wanted to study theatre. So against my parents’ wishes, I switched my major, finishing my degree in Chicago. When I moved to Amman I met Hind Shoufani and also joined the Poeticians, and it’s an inspiring community to be a part of. The talented poets that grew to become a tight knit group of Arab female poets encouraged me.

My Olive Roots: 

In what ways does your creative expression, strengthen your identity as young Palestinian women born outside of Palestine?

Farah: When I meet people that call themselves feminists, I don’t relate to them because I feel it’s enough to be a woman, it’s unnecessary to state it. Being who I am and defining myself through poetry and telling my story, is enough. If I keep dwelling on being Palestinian, I fall into a box that limits me. Yes, I am Palestinian, and I am proud, but I have other things to talk about like life, death, spirituality; universal themes we all deal with.

Dana: I have countless angles to unveil; as a humanist, a woman, a third culture kid, an environmentalist. My poem Love Letter from Palestine that gained popularity was written through my passion for theatrical performance. It felt more authentic to tell the story of Palestine through a universal character, instead of via my own personal experiences.

My Olive Roots: 

Since poetry is not a mainstream medium, people nowadays are not familiar with the power of poetry to break open heart and foster change. What would you say to them?

Farah:  Fairuz, Um Kulthoum, Nina Simone and Leonard Cohen sing poetry. Those who say, “Poetry is boring” have an image of classroom romantic poetry about daffodils perhaps. I cannot say, “Music is boring” just as I cannot say that I do not like one genre of music.

Dana: Poetry is intrinsic to our human evolution.  Poetry is how knowledge was handed down, through oral tradition that was presented in verse because the rhythm made it the stories memorable. Poetry will always be current, through folklore, hip-hop, slam and beyond. It is engrained in our DNA. I have two, music and poetry collaborations – 1 soulful acoustic and 1 electronic. I find when people hear spoken word through music they feel it deeply and naturally connect to it. Even those who don’t care for poetry feel it. Performance poetry is more affective and captures the heart; it is more powerful when and enacted rather than just read.

My Olive Roots: 

What do well-written poems have in common and what do poorly written poems have in common?

Farah: Poetry is like storytelling and spoken word pieces allow you to improvise with other mediums like music. It’s adaptable on stage. I love to improvise my poems with music. A good poem feels genuine. I dislike preachy poems, even though I have written one called The Shisha, which I find very unpleasant.

Dana: When I write something from the heart I feel it’s well written. There is a journey, there’s an introduction to a concept that comes full circle. I’m a big fan of metaphor that highlights a semblance or similarity that is so simple and eloquent, or so complex and appropriate. But ultimately a good poem comes from a deep truth. That trick is to add personal experience that you can relate to. I love word play and rhythm; it’s my style. To me interesting metaphors that allow you to reimagine something. It takes practice and the more you write the more you get through the old tropes. If you’re not writing every day, you will produce regurgitations of what people have heard before.

My Olive Roots: 

What advice do you have for aspiring poets?

Dana: I write every day because I filter through the mundane and then can start to find one’s inner voice. Perform often as practice makes perfect, and sometimes the ball drops on the 50th time I perform something. Sometimes I have an epiphany that takes the performance to a whole new level.

Farah: If you’re already writing you are already in the mode of expression. If you have the urge to express, go with it. It’s important not to look at poetry as this grand thing that’s going to change the world; it should be done for you. Some of the simplest poems have opened my mind and helped me understand the world.

My Olive Roots: 

Who are your favorite poets?

Farah: Sylvia Plath, Mark Strand, Stephen Dunn, Mahmood Darwich, Ahmad Matar, Tamim Al-Barghouthi.

Dana: Saul Williams, Rumi, Pablo Neruda, Kate Tempest…

My Olive Roots: 

Where do you go from here?

Farah: I want to make Arabic more accessible by writing more Arabic texts and organizing informal workshops where people don’t feel criticized for their imperfect language. Modern Standard Arabic can be intimidating, given that it is not spoken, but rather academic. I often get criticized for my Arabic. I realize it’s not perfect. My biggest step now is going to London to study a wide range of performance. I want to challenge myself on stage with all the taboos I have faced to help me overcome personal fears. I’m also working on finishing a poetry book of my writings.

Dana: Earlier, I felt it was my responsibility to represent the region. I was privileged to have a western democratic education allowing me to be more self-aware, but it’s not my only label. I write myself into and out of mental states poetically. Poetry is a great healing method to find an internal authentic voice, so I would like to publish more. This forthcoming guided journal invites others to speak from the heart. Poetry changes the world by speaking straight to the soul, bypassing the mind. I would love to facilitate writing workshops with these tools in Palestine and worldwide. The Human Spirit Project is my nonprofit commitment to telling stories that highlight the resilience of the human spirit. Stories, poems, films, plays, which bring out our shared similarities, which outweigh our perceived differences. In that way the world gets a little bit smaller, and more empathy is created within communities.

The Poeticians

The Poeticians is a group of writers, readers, listeners, lovers and word warriors that have come together to share their work, thoughts, ambitions and fears with small intimate audiences in Beirut, Amman and Dubai. The poets are of all nationalities and read in English, Arabic and French. We had one Italian poem too. Run by Palestinian filmmaker and writer, Hind Shoufani, the group was established in 2007 and has been reading and performing since in three cities.

The group is an elastic entity, with no rules, no boundaries, no censorship, no membership system or structure. We put out the call for a reading, and you join us. Email us at [email protected]

The post Spoken Words Under the Stars appeared first on My Olive Roots.

The Journey…

Little did this UK-born former banker and entrepreneur know that her visit to Palestine in 2013 would ignite a spark of creativity that has since given rise to worldwide, filmmaker and social activist.

During this fateful trip she visited Hebron, passing through checkpoints and settlements, witnessing the mistreatment of children and thinking, ‘what if that was my child?’ In Bethlehem, it was the scale of the eight-meter wall, which shocked and horrified Farah.

It deeply impacted me psychologically and I don’t even live there. The concrete element of it is so overwhelming and what it symbolizes is so grotesque, that I was stunned. We take so much for granted and seeing all the humiliations and impediments to basic every day movements and activities that Palestinians have to continuously deal with was heartbreaking… it was a very emotional trip.

Farah had always thought she understood the situation until she saw first hand what was happening.

Nothing had prepared me for the relentless, calculated and systemic machinery of discrimination grinding down Palestinians in some excruciating way – day in, day out.

Her identification with what she witnessed was so palpable, that Farah went into depression after her trip. “I felt violated as a person.” This period of burning introspection was valuable as it ultimately made her wake up. “Here I was, safe in my life of privilege, where I had the protection of my rights and means for redress should anything go wrong in my life. Yet Palestinians don’t have this option. It broke my heart; I needed to be a voice for them.”

Her personal process of catharsis started through journaling. Farah began to write pieces about her experiences in Palestine. I needed to express my feelings about what I had seen. I felt suffocated by the weight of the injustice and writing it down was totally self-therapy at the time”, she says. “At the time I didn’t know what I would do with these writings.”

Farah eventually found the pieces over a year later and when she read them she broke down in tears.

I realized I had a choice; to recoil into my own cocoon and turn a blind eye, or let my depression manifest further or channel the sadness and pain in a creative and positive way.

Creative Expressions

Fortunately, she chose the latter course of action, writing the scripts for what was to become Oceans of Injustice and Today They Took My Son. By associating these pieces with the perennial cycle of suffocation, pressure, entrapment and insecurity woven tightly into the fabric of Palestinian society, she discovered an inner voice beginning to speak up for justice.

Since then Farah transformed this content into screenplays, founding a media production company, Native Liberty, dedicated to helping others see and feel what the Palestinians experience every day. In 2016 she screened her first three films, Oceans of Injustice, Today They Took My Son and The Nightmare of Gaza.

Whilst her material is based on documented facts, she has chosen to share these in story form, rather than a documentary style.

People love stories, it’s more effective for people to receive information that hits them where they feel.

Farah continued to explain that if you talk to people through the mind, you will be received by their minds. If you communicate through your heart, their hearts will hear you.  “Studies demonstrate that when you reach people’s hearts they are inspired to act on their emotions.  I believe that the arts play a crucial role in changing the world and film probably most of all. It gives voices to the silenced and hearing those voices helps build the mutual understanding needed to effect change.” She stated.

Her aim is to move everyone who sees her films into gaining fresh perspectives on the plight of Palestine to foster their individual call-for-action; whatever that may be for them. What she hadn’t anticipated at the time was the product of her mission. “Delving deep into universal themes of tragedy and hope has allowed me to unveil my creative side which has enriched me is so many ways,” she adds.

Gaining accolades with her three films now screened at festivals worldwide, Farah has been propelled into a social activism niche that has lead her to interact with figures that she had once admired from afar. From Noam Chomsky, Ken Loach, Sean Penn and more; there is a growing community of personalities that are doing what they can to foster global awareness of the Palestinian occupation through their individual modes of expression. 

Looking Ahead

Naturally her parents are proud of her work. “My father was born in Egypt, but his father in Palestine. He likes that I am involved in ‘soft power’; another means to foster progress.” Her mother was born in Nablus, Palestine and is very proud of my work. “But like most Palestinian parents, she is also fearful. I refuse to let fear be the defining element of my work and choices,” she clarifies.

She recognizes the stigma of fear that has been instilled into Palestinians for generations and with it comes a mistrust, uncertainty and desensitization.

Narratives on the Palestinian situation are missing emotion and although there is sympathy for the Palestinians, people are disconnected, with insufficient empathy. Throughout history colonizers dehumanize the indigenous population. This formula is used so people do not empathize, so that they can continue to carry out crimes and atrocities.

This is not to say that apathy reins throughout. Farah explains “Palestinians in the diaspora are great at charity, which is excellent but it only puts a Band-Aid on a festering wound, and has done nothing to stop the deterioration of the situation, or reverse it.  Although it still vital to support relief based charities, the main grassroots that exist today outside of Palestine are not even run by Palestinians. Grassroots are fundamental in supporting change. Organizations like the Jewish Voice for Peace and Palestine Solidarity Campaign in the UK are our lifeline. More support for them is needed.” Historically, western governments have not felt enough pressure from its citizens for change with respect to Palestine-Israel. 

We have to get people to empathize and understand. Powerful artistic advocacy leads the way for that.

In addition to working on two new films to be completed before the end of this year, Farah is playing her part to nudge global consciousness into reaching its ‘tipping point’ in relation to this decades-long scourge with her website, Oceans of Injustice (currently being rebranded to Native Liberty Project) to raise awareness by sharing the films, facts, resources and tools on how to support the cause effectively. 

The post Swimming The Oceans Of Injustice appeared first on My Olive Roots.

In The Beginning…

Butros Peter Elias Zabaneh was born in Ramleh to Elias Rafael Zabaneh, a businessman, distributing goods to retailers and Julia Rantissi, a homemaker.  From a family of five boys and three girls, they lived a comfortable life, next door to extended family. It’s thought that the Zabaneh family fled Ottoman persecution from Anatolia and settled in Ramleh 250 years before my father’s birth in the 1930s. 

Ramleh enjoyed a thriving Arab majority before most of its inhabitants were expelled during the 1948 Arab-Israeli War.  Its economic importance was shared with the neighboring town of Lydda, located strategically on the main supply route to Jerusalem. 

Ramleh had a popular Wednesday market replete with the colors, aromas and bustle that only an Arabic marketplace can yield.

Dad reminisced.

As a boy, I loved walking through the stalls to see what the villagers were selling.

His father was a devoted Christian, who was very strict and his mother a busy homemaker, caring for her large family. “My fondest memory was of her superb cooking. She made the best ‘Laban Immo,’ a rice and yogurt delicacy, made with lamb or pork. I can still recall its mouthwatering fragrance.” 

Dad’s childhood in Ramleh was peaceful, with a close-knit family filled with happy memories in their home.  “We had a beautiful garden with a fountain. I loved to play football and run in it. There were plenty of animals roaming around like chickens, roosters and rabbits.” He also spent a lot of  time playing with cousins and siblings in his grandfather’s olive grove.  “These were precious moments,” Nobody realized then how irrevocably his life would be soon turned upside down.

World War 2

In 1941, Dad broke his arm while playing with his cousin.  “We were riding a donkey through my grandfather’s citrus grove. I can still remember the tangy scent of the lemon trees filling the air.  It was paradise.”  There was no expert surgeon in Ramleh so his mother and grandmother took him to hospital in Tel Aviv. 

It was World War 2 and while I was being treated, there was a bombing raid.  Italian fighter jets flew over us.  I was too young to understand what was happening, though I remember my mother holding me tightly while we escaped to a bomb shelter in the hospital.

The fear he experienced at that time was a prelude to what would come only a few years later. 

The Death March

When the British began withdrawing from Palestine in 1948, my Dad’s family became increasingly concerned.  His relatives were all hearing stories of massacres in nearby villages by Zionist paramilitaries and the family began considering an emergency plan.

Ramleh became a gateway for refugees who travelled through from nearby towns. The Palestinian exodus from Lydda and Ramleh, also known as the Lydda Death March, involved the expulsion of nearly 70,000 people.  These desperate families clogged the roads in and out of Ramallah for weeks.  Over 350 Palestinians died due to exhaustion and dehydration.  Dad recalled,

 I remember seeing flocks of Palestinian families leaving in droves through my town.  Fleeing in trucks, buses, taxis and by foot, any means possible.

In March 1948, Zionist paramilitaries carried out an explosion at Ramleh’s famous Wednesday market. “My father and uncles were there that day when the explosion happened. They came home disturbed by what they saw; bloodshed and body parts lying on top of stalls and carts.” Like many Palestinians who were terrified of what would become of them, the family decided to pack up and leave their beloved Ramleh.  As the refugees were departing the twin cities of Lydda and Ramleh, many of them were stripped of their jewelry and money, some of the women even raped at roadblocks manned by the Jewish Army. 

We were petrified as the journey out of there was perilous. My mother buried her jewelry in the garden and we locked up our home, escaping into a taxi via a hidden dirt road in order to avoid Zionist guerillas.

The Zabaneh family took refuge in Birzeit College dormitories and waited impatiently for loved ones to arrive safely. 

My pregnant sister Wadad, who was living in Lydda, fled on foot to meet us in Birzeit.  Probably induced by the trauma of the situation, Wadad went into labor and ended up delivering her daughter on the side of the road.  The umbilical cord was cut with a stone, and miraculously my sister and her daughter Almaza – or Diamond in English – survived, continuing their journey to Birzeit on a donkey.

Picking Up The Pieces

After nearly two years in Birzeit, the Zabaneh family moved to Ramallah when it became clear that there was no hope of returning back to Ramleh.  They stayed in a warehouse at first , taking food from UNRWA. Eventually, the family began a new life and started a business, The Zabaneh Groceries, which still exists there today. My father remembers going into a depression, impacted by the trauma of loss and surrounded by the hardship of so many.

It was difficult to pick up the pieces and start over, we had lost so much. Things were never the same after that. I started working at the age of 19 to help support my family.

My father’s first job was with the Jordanian Broadcasting Service in Ramallah as a radio announcer and translator.  Dad found a passion in the field and continued to build his career translating news from Washington into bulletins with the United States Information Service (USIS) for the American Embassy in Amman, Jordan.  He was later offered a position with the Voice of America (VOA) on Rhodes Island in Greece, where he worked for five years.

These were amongst the best years of my life, things were finally shifting for me and my career had really taken off.  I loved my job and found a passion in the news world,

Canada Calling

My father received offers with Reuters and BBC Radio but felt the responsibility and pressure to stay close to his family and support them.  By 1971, the opportunities of Canada began to present themselves and Dad decided to immigrate to Toronto, following his younger brothers.  Together, they began a new life and started a successful business. 

I made the momentous decision to leave my career in broadcasting and start a new life in Canada with my brothers.  Our family was close knit, having experienced the deep trauma of loss together. I didn’t want to abandon them. What happened in 1948 propelled us toward a better life with freedom, equality and opportunities that no longer existed in the Middle East.  We understood how hard we had to work and that sacrifices needed to be made to achieve our goals. 

That same year, Dad met my mother Nabila in Beirut, Lebanon after which they decided to get married and move together to Toronto.  Dad and his brothers founded a chain of grocery businesses known as the Shopping Spot and they thrived over the years. 

My father and uncles were hard working immigrants and I am so grateful to them for the life they gave us.  I grew up with a sense of peace and security that my father never had.

Staying Connected

Maintaining a cultural connection to Palestine was vital for Dad. Devoutly spiritual, he was involved in several charities and was also a member of the Antiochian Orthodox Church, becoming a Knight of the Order of St. Ignatius, helping to found a new church for the Levantine community in Toronto.  Always ready with a smile, extending a hand in friendship, Dad was the first point of call for new immigrants to the community and would often take people under his wing, socially and professionally, as they navigated their arrival to the new country.

Educating our children and grandchildren about what happened in 1948 is necessary and represents a huge part of who we are and what we have become. The cultural and national identity of Palestinians is inextricably tied to the memories of our once thriving homeland. Palestinians the world over must not be afraid to visit Palestine and connect with their roots, even if it is difficult to face the occupation.

He returned to his ancestral town of Ramleh for the first time in 1983 to see what had happened to his family home. 

I was heartbroken, Ramleh was unrecognizable. I went to my childhood home that my grandfather built on his land, to find it converted into an American School. I couldn’t believe what I saw it was devastating. I wandered the grounds and went into the garden to see that the fountain was still there. I wondered if my mother’s jewelry was still hidden in the ground around it.

Like so many of his generation, my father believes that Palestinians living in the diaspora have an obligation to keep the legacy of Palestine alive. 

A resolution to the conflict will take time – but our memories – these can never be erased.  Memories are eternal.

Did you know…

The St George Antiochian Orthodox Church in Toronto was founded in 1951 by a group of dedicated and faithful Orthodox families – a small community at the time – but with a lot of generosity and hard work, they succeeded in building a church in down town. Due to the political instability in the Middle East, the Church grew largely and a larger temple was established in the 80’s.

The post My Father’s Story appeared first on My Olive Roots.

Preparation Time

1 hour + resting

Cooking Time

10 minutes

Serves

2 pax ( about 20 fatayer)

Ingredients

• 250g fresh spinach
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• 4 tbsp. olive oil
• 1 tbsp. sumac
• 1 tbsp. lemon juice
• 1 tsp. chili flakes or powder
• 30g toasted pine nuts

For the Dough

• 2 ½ cups all purpose flour or whole meal flour
• ½ tsp. salt
• ½ tsp. sugar
• 1 tsp. instant yeast
• 1 /2 cup olive oil
• 1 cup plain yogurt
• Water if needed

Method

• Chop the spinach and mix with salt. Place colander over a sink and allow to sit for 1-2 hours.
• Squeeze the spinach as much as possible to release all the water, and then lay on a towel to dry. It is important that the spinach is not watery.
• Combine the remaining stuffing ingredients and prepare the dough, set aside to rise for 1-2 hours.
• Once the dough has risen, preheat oven 475F/240C and line two baking sheets and prepare your working station with oil. 
• Toast pine nuts on the stovetop and set aside.
• Divide the dough into egg-sized balls. Flatten each one and add 1 tbsp. of spinach mixture with 1-2 toasted pine nuts, then take the two sides and pinch together to make a triangle shape. Lift the bottom of the circle towards the center and pinch all three edges firmly together.
• Place on a lined sheet and brush with olive oil and bake for 5-10 minutes or until golden.

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