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Memories of the Yellow Wind
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by Patricia Cretilli, W A M M
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I have always been fascinated by wind. Wind provides energy and movement. But some wind is so powerful as to engulf, surround, and choke all in its path. The irony of the following story is the hope that endures in spite of and beyond tragedy and strong winds in one’s life. This is a story about such a wind in the Middle East, the yellow wind.
By the late 90s, it appeared that war in the Middle East could become more global. There were indications that peace efforts were minimal. In 1997, I was granted a Fulbright award to teach in Jordan. My intention was to learn more about the crises in the Middle East than teaching alone could provide. I joined a group of University of Jordan faculty and applied to the United Nations High Commission for Refugees to conduct interviews with refugee families on their adaptation to refugee status in the Palestinian camp, Al-Baqa’a. Most refugees live in poverty with little to call their own. Yet even those who lived in this camp more than 40 years had hope they would one day return to their land, Palestine.
Before I left for the Middle East, I reread The Yellow Wind by David Grossman. As an Israeli living in Jerusalem, Grossman conducted numerous personal interviews with Palestinians and Israelis. He reflected on the repeated failed wars in the Middle East as he described the symbol of the yellow wind: “. . . ‘rih asfar’ it is called by the local Arabs, a hot and terrible east wind which comes once in a few generations and sets the world afire; people seek shelter from its heat in the caves and caverns, but even there it finds those it seeks . . .”
Amman was haunted by a “yellow wind” on one excruciating hot weekend. That week we had what the local people call a “yellow storm” of immense heat and wind that whips desert sand in the air and tints the atmosphere yellow. To walk home from my office, I had to wear a towel wrapped around my face. Sand saturated my clothes and hair and entered the apartment with me. A fine yellow dust reupholstered the furniture.
To escape the yellow wind, we decided to travel to the Dead Sea. But we found that at the Dead Sea the temperature was 112 degrees and taking breaths was laborious. It was too hot to swim, so we decided to seek shade along the Wadi Mujib Reserve, where many Israeli tourists and Arab families hike and picnic. We laid out our picnic near the cavernous linkage between the Wadi Mujib area and the Dead Sea. Many other families had spread blankets and picnics on one side or the other of the winding creek.
I brought my camera to photograph some of the reserve. Much of the reserve is limited to hikers with guides. Photographs are not allowed in certain areas where military security guards are based. I was about to photograph an Arab family that we had previously met in Madaba.
We were suddenly interrupted by a group of young children yelling: ”Sa’adni…Awlad! min fadluk…Tabeeb, Tabeeb!….” I did not speak fluent Arabic, but recognized that they wanted a doctor or medical person. I understood that a child was endangered. I was trained as a medical person, so automatically ran toward the screams. People seemed to come from all parts of the cavernous area and to create a human chain. I joined an outstretched hand.
The water quickly deepened and had strong currents. I realized that a young Israeli child had fallen from a cliff while hiking with his aunt and uncle. I feared the worst as the child was carried out by an Arab man. He carried a shoe in his hand and wept. Behind him followed the shocked family carrying the other shoe. The ten-year-old child had died on impact, likely from a broken neck.
Among the cries of grief, what followed was remarkable. The people who had arrived to picnic stopped to pray. Voices of Arabic, Hebrew, and various dialects wafted through the cliffs. As visitors, we sat in silence. The collective sadness was palpable. Boundaries and differences had disappeared, and for the time being, people came together to pray to their God.
Now, in reflection, I wonder, was it the yellow wind, the Dead Sea, the shared picnic, or the tragic death of a child that created the peaceful coexistence of all these people? Is it this belief in people’s basic humanity and community that provides hope to Palestinian refugees? I wonder how many pockets of similar harmony and peace there are in the Middle East and, for that matter, in the world.
Patricia Cretilli PhD is a family therapist in Minneapolis. Past professor (U of M and Mankato) and Fulbright Scholar to (University of Jordan). Her research and teaching has been in the areas of adaptation, addiction and family violence. She is an avid grandparent, amateur pianist gardener and water colorist. She loves to walk the Peace Bridge and supports groups dedicated to world peace. |
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Word UP
Well, in 1976, we were in a very dangerous position in Northern Ireland. We were in the brink of civil war. Three of my sister’s young children were all killed. And we started a peace movement. Our message was, this problem will not be solved through violence; it can only be done through dialogue and through nonviolence. And today in Northern Ireland, we are very glad we have our peace, and we are moving towards a more normal society. I believe the message from Northern Ireland, that you cannot solve these problems through state violence, militarism, Para militarism, suicide bombs; you cannot solve these problems through violence, but only through nonviolence. That’s a message that is beginning to be heard more and more in Israel and in Palestine.
—Irish Nobel peace Laureate Mairead Maguire
Human Rights Resource
No More Victims is a non-profit, non-sectarian, humanitarian organization whose mission is to restore the health and well-being of victims of war and to advocate and educate for peace.
No More Victims works to find medical sponsorships for war-injured Iraqi children and to forge ties between the children, their families and communities in the United States. Founded in September 2002, the organization has brought five children to the United States for treatment to-date. Several more children are waiting.
For more information, please visit their website: www.nomorevictims.org
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© 2007 Women Against Military Madness. All rights reserved.
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