My Life as a Palestinian from a Place Called Bani Naim

By Professor Omar Manasreh

This book is composed of short essays (stories) based on true events that the author experienced since his childhood. Many people read these poignant essays at the time when they were written and told the author they laughed and cried at the same time. These short stories reflect the sense of humor of the author as he described painful events. His journey from the Middle East to the USA was summarized in the story entitled Go West, Young Man. There are funny stories in this book, such as Neighbors in Bellbrook, Ohio, City of Outlaws, How a Puerto Rican Policeman Changed My Attitude and Ethics, and Clashes of Cultures. On the other hand, there are sad stories such as Go to Your Cousins in the East, Memories, When I Die, Bury Me in Yageen, and the Tragedy of Multiple Sclerosis. The author grew up in a very small town in Palestine called Bani Naim. This town was the subject of many of his stories, such as I Left My Soul in Bani Naim, Antiquity of Bani Naim, and Lonesome Without You. The author left his hometown (Bani Naim) at the age of sixteen, then he went back for a visit after forty-four years later to see the town was transformed into a small-sized city. In this visit, he wrote the story Bani Naim Gave Me Back My Soul to close the cycle of his painful journey. The author wrote several essays in this book that are related to the brouhaha status of the Middle East. The stories in this book were randomly listed, since the author believes there are opportunities in chaos.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543411348

Professor Omar Manasreh

Dr. Omar Manasreh is a professor of Electrical Engineering at the University of Arkansas since 2003, but his educational background is in Solid State Physics. He authors three technical textbooks for both graduate and undergraduate programs. He also edited a few dozen books and symposia in various technical fields. He grow up in Palestine as a young lad, finished his undergraduate education in Jordan, and then moved to the USA in January 1978 where finished his M.S. and Ph.D. degrees. The current book is his first literary work based on true stories that he experienced in his childhood and as an immigrant. He published over 230-refereed articles in technical journals and proceedings. He gave many invited talks at both the national and international levels. He was a recipient of several awards, including the Science and Technology Achievement Awards presented by the Air Force Research Lab and Sigma Xi research honor award. He was a National Research Council fellow. He is currently an editor for the IEEE Electron Device Letters and previously was the editor-in-chief for three book series.

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by Professor Omar Manasreh.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2017904772

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5434-1132-4

      Softcover      978-1-5434-1133-1

      eBook         978-1-5434-1134-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/28/2017

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

759583

Contents

Go west young Man

Neighbors in Bellbrook, Ohio

City of outlaws

Clashes of Cultures

Our children are born to run

I left my soul in Bani Naim

Living dead

I will never forget Kazem

Go to your cousins in the East

How a Puerto Rican Policeman changed my attitudes and ethics

I dream of Bani Naim

Memories

Messengers from the future

Antiquity in Bani Naim

A short lullaby for a falling lad

When I die, bury me in Yageen

Lonesome without you

Bani Naim gave me back my Soul

The Balancing Act

My cyber-world

Motivated by Roasted Onions

Seek Knowledge even if it is in China

September is to remember, but in June we busted our balloon.

Moments

The tragedy of multiple sclerosis

Traveler in Time

Our dark days are getting even darker

Guilty as charged

When I go I will take Bani Naim in my heart

Lost in translation

The Winners of the Olympiad Gold Medals

To:

Bothina

42644.jpg

Go west young Man

Living in a neighboring country to Palestine was not enjoyable, pleasurable, amusing, or exuberating experience. Everything and the whole government are focused on the ruling family. The residents are judged by their proximity and nearness to the rulers regardless of how cruel, brutal, ruthless, or merciless they are. The first pages of every newspapers, magazines, and periodics are devoted to the first family. I recall once, I was pulled out along with one of my peers from a movie theater and beaten up by Bedouin soldiers because we did not stand up during the playing of the national anthem glorifying the big boss. After my graduation from college, I visited the embassies of every Arab countries searching for a job. My credentials were rejected, discarded, and unwanted by all of the oil rich countries as if I was overqualified or diseased. However, I was offered a position to teach Physics at a high school in a North African Nation. I was so eager to start my job and practice the teaching of Physics laws, concepts, theory, and hypotheses. I reported to the Ministry of Education upon my arrival and to my dismay and disappointment, I was assigned to teach at an elementary school. I requested an explanation to this change of heart and the answer was the average age of the students in the high school is older than my own age. I had no choice but to obey and act upon the recommendation of the officer at the Ministry of Education, since my airline ticket was one way and I was out of extra fund to afford going back. In this particular moment I told myself quietly, perhaps I will be older than the pupils in the elementary school.

Reporting to the elementary school was a humiliating, degrading, and crushing to my manhood and big ego, because I thought of myself as a smart, intelligent, and brainy man by having a college degree in physics. After walking aimlessly for a while in the street of the city, I finally convinced myself teaching math and science to young children could be a rewarding experience. At that time I recalled an advice by one of my high school teachers, which states a teacher is like a candle; you burn yourself to light the way to others. I thought this was the most ridiculous, outrageous, and ludicrous advice I ever heard. Furthermore, I faced another huge disappointment when the superintendent of the elementary school informed me that I will be teaching fine art to the third graders. His decision was based on the fact I reported in the initial application that drawing and painting were my hobbies. From that day and for the rest of the year I started to appreciate the thrashing, whipping, battering, and pounding of my body by the Bedouin soldiers. I resigned from my post at the end of the year and decided to go back to the same Palestine neighboring country.

I applied for every open vacancy and finally I was offered a job to teach physics lab at a newly established local university. After two months of work, I was dismissed from the post as being unwanted persona. Being unemployed is a job no one wanted. An unemployed, frantic, hopeless, and desperate peer of mine suggested a wild idea by trying to obtain a visa to travel to United State (USA); a dream of every scholar at that time. After several days of argument, I gave in and went with him to request a visa from the USA embassy. To my surprise, astonishment, and amazement, my application was accepted while his was rejected. To me, it was like coming out of hell, but he was doomed and condemned for the rest of his life. He was happy for me and jealous at the same time. I am still thinking of him, wishing him the best of luck, and praying for him up to this day.

After inspecting maps and cities in USA, I decided to go to Puerto Rico where the Spanish culture is the closest to my own. After all, my great great…great grandfather (Musa Ibn Naseer) conquered Spain. Upon my arrival to the Western hemisphere, I counted my wealth and it was only $128. I came with nothing but hope, aspiration, dreams, and expectations. I started my life as a peddler knocking on doors selling clothes and silly things, but I end up finishing an M.Sc. degree in Physics from the best University in the Caribbean region. During my stay in Puerto Rico, many comical and amusing things happened mostly due to the language barrier. Peddling in the streets of cities and towns forced me to learn how to speak their language even though my Spanish was mediocre. In spite of my broken and out of order Spanish, I was able to communicate with the locals. During my first month of peddling, I was acquainted with an elder lady (named Mayo) who was sympathetic, kindhearted, and considerate. Perhaps she was looking for someone to talk to as much as I want to be befriended with the locals. She always paid me on time and occasionally invited me to eat lunch with her. She prepared tasty and delicious food. In return, I sold her clothes with large discount. On one occasion, I came knocking on her door expecting to see her nice smile and greeting rituals, but nobody answered the door; I tried for several weeks to knock on her door in hope of seeing her again. Last time I went to her house, I had the courage to ask a neighbor about her well being. The neighbor murmured something in Spanish, which meant that Mayo lives in the cemetery now. With my broken Spanish, I could not figure out what the neighbor was trying to tell me. So I asked the neighbor if she could give me Mayo’s new address. The neighbor starts laughing at me and almost fell down from laughing so hard.

01.jpg

While I was finishing my M.Sc. degree in Physics from the University of Puerto Rico, I was disoriented and at loss about my next move. Listening to suggestions from neighbors, students, and teachers was very confusing, but a guy recommended "go west young man." This statement stuck into my head like a melody and from that moment I started applying to graduate programs across the country. On a Monday morning in the Spring of 1980, I received a telegram from the University of Arkansas offering a teaching assistantship to attend their Ph. D. program in Physics. When I showed the message to my research advisor, he was thrilled and jealous at the same time. He was envied by the generous stipend that was offered, since it was more than what he made as an assistant professor at that time.

Purchasing a ticket to attend the University of Arkansas was a nightmare, dreadful, and horrendous experience. The first thing I encounter while shopping for an airline ticket is the way to pronounce Arkansas. I pronounced it the way it is written instead of "Arkansawh." Coming from the old part of the world where haggling is part of the culture is a mammoth disadvantage in the western hemisphere. I went through over twenty travel agent offices checking the price of tickets to Fayetteville, Arkansas. I finally, decided on an agent who had a wicked idea about how to sell me a ticket to Fayetteville. His price was unbelievably an exceptionally cheap as compared to others. So I bought the ticket and I was very smug and self-satisfied with my purchase. The moment of the truth surfaced as a two by four board hitting me in the middle of my face when I found myself in Fayetteville, North Carolina, asking for direction on how to get to the University of Arkansas. I end up paying much more for my trip to Fayetteville, Arkansas. At that moment, I realized the road to the west is not an easy, painless, or straightforward one.

Arriving at the small airport in Fayetteville, Arkansas, was the easiest part. However, I felt the loneliest man on Earth when I came out of the airport building, there was nobody waiting for me. In contrast, traveling (arriving or departing) by airplanes in the Middle East was extraordinarily pleasant experience because hordes of relatives and friends were always there waiting for the arriving passengers or waving goodbye for the beloved ones. Arriving at an early evening at the small airport in Fayetteville, Arkansas, with nobody waiting outside the tarmac, no taxi-cab or a bus, and no agents giving guidance and direction was a very dreadful, awful, and appalling sensation. The only thing that was soothing to me at that instant is the historic event of Tariq Ibn Ziad who burnt his ships upon the arrival at the southern coast of Spanish. He reminded his soldiers with the sea being behind them and the enemy in front of them and they have no choice but to fight and win. That was a drastic, dire, and radical measure, but at that moment, finding myself in a weird and peculiar place was not as hard as conquering Spain. The only difficulty however was finding a taxi-cab to take me to town. After asking several individuals about how to get to the town, a very pleasant and polite middle-aged man understood my broken English and he explained leisurely and with a perfect accent that I have to call a taxi-cab and they will come and pick me up. After following the instruction and getting my point through, a taxi-driver came by after anxiously waiting for about two hours. From that point on, I never underestimated or took for granted the road to the west.

Omar Manasreh

06 June 2008

Neighbors in Bellbrook, Ohio

My wife grew up in Indianola, Mississippi, which is a very small town at that time with a well-defined downtown where southern hospitability, friendliness, and sociability are the trademarks of the residents. The highlight of the day was the short distance walk to the downtown to gossip, chat, and talk about all problems associated with farming the fields and raising catfish. Talking about weather is always the central