Food of Resistance and Existence

Joint writing between Rozana Association and blogger Fidaa Abu Hamdiya

The women greeted us with a scene simulating the preparation of a traditional dish that the region is famous for on Easter. The hand of the ‘aunt’, dressed in a work dress embroidered with red and gold threads, rotated the hand-mill (jaroucheh) grinding bulgur, groats and flour, while humming songs of parting and travel, along the ‘tune’ of the rough and sad noise of the hand-mill. Her friend sieved the grounded product to prepare ‘Ikbab’, which is simple in its ingredients and warm in taste.

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"It's not Just Food, It’s a Great Joy "

Gaza Strip, Al-Zaytoun

Umm Khaled told us about the method of making Summāqīyah , which she learned from her mother who died at the age of 100. Her mother taught her and her five sisters how to make Gazan dishes: Kishk, Summāqīyah , Khubiza, Mujdara, Lisan, Rijleh, And Rummaniah.

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Living Culture

Dr. Zakaria Salawdeh

Am educated person from the rural area, who moves to the city becomes captivated by imported Western culture, disdains his local heritage, and cuts their social ties with the countryside, as if he has no connection to the development of rural communities.

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Experiential Tourism in Palestine

“Abu Samer welcomed us warmly and his family prepared a village chicken speciality that is called musakhan for us. We spoke of many things and we told each other stories of life and humanity. We laughed a lot and then went together to visit the women’s association in the village. They explained to us what they were doing and showed us some of their handicrafts. Insaf, the director of the association, was a great and knowledgeable person. She took us on a short stroll through the historic area of the village, where we visited the old oil press as well as the old flourmill. She told us some of her childhood stories, such as when she escorted her father to bring their olive harvest to the oil press and described the excitement of the villagers over their harvest as they got together at the oil press…”

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Being Rural

I would watch my grandmother’s hands blend in the darkness of the Taboun oven as she fiddled with the bread back and forth before resting it on the stone bed in the bottom of the oven. My grandmother did this sacredly every day as a part of the breakfast preparation ceremony.

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