In Arabic, we say “fil mish mish” as our version of “when pigs fly” or “never gonna happen” write off statement. Fil mish mish references the extremely short harvest of the apricot in Palestine. You blink and its over and every year, practically everyone misses it. But they still come every year like clockwork. Fil mish mish is my favorite week of the year. You just have to be ready for it.
I was born to Palestinian refugee parents, and came to the United States at the age of 5. I grew up in the beautiful hills of Tennessee, dreaming of the coast of Palestine. I wear my heritage as a badge of honor. And while I am and have been an activist for justice in Palestine since my first grammar school presentation, it is the amazing student leaders and youth in Palestine and around the world that constantly remind, inspire, and push me forward in this fight. It is the deep conviction instilled in me by my parents and by the humanity I strive for that guides my steadfastness, my sumoud.
The name of this site, isdoud.wordpress.com, is in remembrance of my family’s home village of Isdoud, Palestine, from which they were expelled during Al-Nakba in 1948. The village, like hundreds of others, is no longer inhabited and has been virtually erased from contemporary existence.