I Was Asked Where I'm From The Other Day -Hamzeh

Where do you come from?

A question I think of when I want to fathom my own sense of belonging 


As I stand here I blink every now and then to give my cuticles the decency of re-hydrating while my throat goes dry thinking of such a question


I was born in a hospital in the capital of a small country in the middle east called Jordan. 


Wait that means I’m from Jordan, doesn’t it? 


What’s your heritage? 


My family originates from a small town called Yafa in Palestine. 


Pause.


Wait ... that means I’m from Palestine, doesn’t it? 


You mean Israel… don't you? 


Heavily breathing


Do I? 


Nostrils narrowing


Where do I come from? 


I blink now and with every blink I see my grandfather.


Blink. 

Grandfather, where do you come from? 


Blink. 

Palestine, my boy. 


Blink. 

Why aren’t you there now? 


Blink. 

I am not allowed my boy. 


Blink. 

Why? 


Blink. 

Because … 


Blink. 

Pure silence.


I was 8 when I realized a person could answer the question: “where do you come from?” With silence. 


The other day my friend asked me:
Where are you from? 


I answered ...