Nina Abdul Razzak: „Olive oil“ (poetry)
(Foto: Alard)
Growing up I got to see
My uncle pouring olive oil in a plate,
Sprinkling it with a dash of salt,
Dipping pieces of bread in it,
And enjoying every bite he ate!
Growing up I got to see
My mother mixing olive oil, sesame seeds, and thyme,
Spreading the mixture over flattened pieces of dough,
Pinching the dough on the edges in a zigzag border,
Baking it, till its taste and smell are sublime…
Manakeesh is what they are called
Those famous baked round pieces of dough.
The finer the olive oil and the thyme,
The more appealing is their smell and taste
And the faster they surely go!
Growing up I got to see
Our Nabulsi neighbor passionately busy at home,
Mixing virgin olive oil and water,
To create ivory-colored cubes of soap
To cover skin with bubbly, luminous and silky foam.
Growing up I got to see
My old and kindhearted granny
Heating olive oil in a pot
Rubbing it on every aching spot,
Like a true magical remedy for any weak and frail body!
Wonders she did
With anyone who resorted to her for relief.
Like a wizard, she made the pain just disappear.
An angel from the skies she then was,
With an olive oil magical wand wrapped in nothing but a leaf.
Growing up I got to see
A history of love between olive oil and Palestine,
A secret force of attraction between both,
Exhibited in different ways and forms;
A chemistry and a bond that seems endless and divine.
Growing up I got to see
My people, not only as lovers of olives and their oil,
But as guardians of the trees that produce it,
As freedom-fighters of the land bearing those trees,
And a melting pot, where the olive oil and their blood conjointly boil!
*Nina Abdul Razzak is a Palestinian (Lebanese-born) intellectual, university professor and writer currently working as the Academic Consultant at the Directorate of Higher Education /Education & Training Quality Authority(BQA) in Bahrain.
