a love across cultures: li na's story
"Then I (said) 'do you want to kiss me?'" Li Na smiled and looked off into the distance as she spoke to me, taking herself back to the moment of their first kiss. "Then he looked at me like a baby and he (said), 'Yea, why not' so then I gave him a little kiss."
We were sitting at an outdoor cafe with our 'mocktails' made fresh from local fruit. Li Na led me into her love story with Hisham, a Palestinian man she met in Jerusalem.
"I didn't really know if I was doing wrong because this is really bad in the culture and also I don't want him to be too attached to me," she said. "I (kept) saying...if you're going to be too emotional, I can't and I don't want to hurt you and he was like, 'no that's fine I know what I'm doing,' but he didn't know what he was doing. And to be honest I didn't know what I was doing either."
I met Li Na at a hostel in Aqaba, a small beach town on the southern tip of Jordan. Li Na is French but surprised me when she started speaking Arabic fluently with the hostel owners. The second thing I noticed about Li Na was her eyes. They are a truly captivating blue-green color and exude confidence and wisdom beyond her age. Li Na is 25 years old, but an old soul and a passionate person dedicated to helping others. Before I met her, she was volunteering in Palestine, working beside Palestinian's in their current struggle for sovereignty in the middle east. We sat together at a round table in the afternoon sunshine with two other travelers we met in our hostel, James from Canada and Mario from Italy. They half-way listened to our conversation while speaking on the side about their own experience with romantic love. Mario would intermediately interrupt us with questions.
Li Na told me that Hisham was the first Palestinian she met that she could communicate with. So in broken English, they chatted over lunch, "he was really cute," she said.
She explained that as their relationship progressed they had a difficult time being together. Because of their nationalities, it is illegal to arrange a hotel together unless they have a marriage certificate. In Palestinian culture, and Arab culture more generally, the majority of men live in their family's home until they are married. Hisham and Li Na found a place in secret to have a night together.
Hisham was 30 years old when he met Li Na--she was his first intimate partner.
"It was really cute because he was asking me, 'is it okay or am I hurting you?' He was really soft...I thought he may be violent or something because it's a very different culture. (I kept thinking) he might hurt me but he was so cute," she said speaking of their first night together.
We both noticed that the guys sitting across from us were listening intently now, sipping their mocktails and pretending not to be interested. We giggled together as Li Na went on.
Hisham invited Li Na to stay with his family in his village in Palestine. While it is unacceptable that Hisham and Li Na share a bed together in his family home, Hisham still found a way to sneak into her room at night. On the first night he laid in bed with her in his family's home he asked her to marry him. Li Na quickly turned Hisham down, telling him that they barely knew each other. She told me that while she knew she couldn't marry him, she understood that in his culture it is normal to propose so early on in a relationship.
"If it's your first love and you think 'oh my god I love her she's amazing' why not marry her because here in the culture you get to know the person when you are engaged and it's just beautiful because you always learn something (new) about the relationship," she said. "You are going to accept the faults in the other person...I think it's really beautiful."
Mario burst into our conversation to ask if either of us would continue a relationship for the long-term with someone we met while traveling.
"No, no, no," I said with a hint of annoyance. "I'm not on the kind of journey."
And it's true, I'm not on that kind of a journey. I have made a big effort this time around to sit with myself. I now know why short-term love, or travel love by extension, can seem so intense. We know (for the most part) that we are not in it for the long haul. So naturally, we are ourselves, we take down our walls, we spend all of our time together, and then we leave each other, usually with a kiss. It is special, this type of love, it may not last forever but we can keep it with us always. And I believe we get some of the best pieces of each other by these short bursts of love and affection. Often, these loves teach us how to let go gracefully and not force something that instinctively has an expiration date.
I've always had a hard time letting go of love. Like many of you, I am trying to learn from my patterns; to let go more beautifully and contain my expectations of the future. I think it's always valuable to ask yourself: do I really love this person or is this feeling of intensity from the inaccessibility of our relationship?
"Women are very complicated," Mario said throwing his hands in the air.
Li Na turned to me and continued. She told me that she stayed for months in Hisham's village with him and his family. She learned Arabic and grew very close to his mother. But she said that as time went by, she realized how many differences they had as a couple.
"We don't have the same life," she said. "He saw war when he was young. He really hurts all the time and has a broken heart. I can't help even if I try and that's why I loved him because I wanted to save him."
I said nothing, but at that moment I understood her craving to love by attempting to cure. Love, it seems, is often synonymous with sympathy. We know we can't take away that pain, but we try, with all our might, even if it breaks us, to heal the wounds of our loved ones.
When Li Na had to leave Palestine, she did not know if she would ever see Hisham again. She told me about the internal struggle she felt when looking at Hisham with her luggage by her side. She hugged him at the bus station, something that is seen as taboo in public areas, and held on tight before abruptly deciding to cancel her flight home to spend one more night with Hisham and his family in Palestine. She spent hundreds of dollars re-booking her flight for the next day, the day her visa expired. Li Na said a tearful goodbye to Hisham and his family.
After a few months in her home country, she realized that her relationship with Hisham wouldn't last because of the literal and cultural space between them.
"We concluded that we were not together but we will keep on loving each other," she told me. "I would love to love him. I would love to force myself to be able to have just him and to love him as much as he loves me but I just can't. I love my freedom more than any guy but I do feel like at one point I will want someone that I will just want to be with."
Hisham agreed their relationship would not last forever. Li Na told me that since Hisham is Palestinian, he is not free and therefore cannot understand her desire to travel. He is focused on survival, she said, and this is the catalyst for their misunderstanding of each other. Because of their nationalities, she is free and he isn't.
At the time of our meeting, Li Na was on her way from Jordan to Palestine to see Hisham for the first time in almost a year. It seems that their love draws them together even in the most challenging of circumstances.
"There is no way to know if it's love or not in life. We don't know what is love really. And I think love can be really different from any relationship we have. I think (Hisham) was different because I really felt that I was the only one in his life--this is a beautiful thing here and in the culture...when you know that you are really part of the life of the other but there is only you and he would do anything for you," she wistfully looked into the distance, her blue-green eyes smiled subtly while she focused on nothing in particular. Maybe she was looking into the future, maybe the past--whatever it was I knew she saw Hisham there with her.
*********************************************************************************
After 10 months of separation, Hisham and Li Na reunited.
When I spoke with her a month after our time together, she told me that she is still struggling with the feeling that Hisham is not the one for her.
"Maybe the mistake is that I keep on staying with him because we have something special, we do. But it's not my life and I can't feel myself because I can't be. It's the same feeling I had before. Sometimes I kinda wanna force myself but I probably don't love him enough," she said speaking of the impending pressure to marry Hisham by his family. "Whenever you're not sure, that means it's not a good decision I think."
We were sitting at an outdoor cafe with our 'mocktails' made fresh from local fruit. Li Na led me into her love story with Hisham, a Palestinian man she met in Jerusalem.
"I didn't really know if I was doing wrong because this is really bad in the culture and also I don't want him to be too attached to me," she said. "I (kept) saying...if you're going to be too emotional, I can't and I don't want to hurt you and he was like, 'no that's fine I know what I'm doing,' but he didn't know what he was doing. And to be honest I didn't know what I was doing either."
I met Li Na at a hostel in Aqaba, a small beach town on the southern tip of Jordan. Li Na is French but surprised me when she started speaking Arabic fluently with the hostel owners. The second thing I noticed about Li Na was her eyes. They are a truly captivating blue-green color and exude confidence and wisdom beyond her age. Li Na is 25 years old, but an old soul and a passionate person dedicated to helping others. Before I met her, she was volunteering in Palestine, working beside Palestinian's in their current struggle for sovereignty in the middle east. We sat together at a round table in the afternoon sunshine with two other travelers we met in our hostel, James from Canada and Mario from Italy. They half-way listened to our conversation while speaking on the side about their own experience with romantic love. Mario would intermediately interrupt us with questions.
 |
| Me, James (right), Mario, and Li Na |
She explained that as their relationship progressed they had a difficult time being together. Because of their nationalities, it is illegal to arrange a hotel together unless they have a marriage certificate. In Palestinian culture, and Arab culture more generally, the majority of men live in their family's home until they are married. Hisham and Li Na found a place in secret to have a night together.
Hisham was 30 years old when he met Li Na--she was his first intimate partner.
"It was really cute because he was asking me, 'is it okay or am I hurting you?' He was really soft...I thought he may be violent or something because it's a very different culture. (I kept thinking) he might hurt me but he was so cute," she said speaking of their first night together.
We both noticed that the guys sitting across from us were listening intently now, sipping their mocktails and pretending not to be interested. We giggled together as Li Na went on.
Hisham invited Li Na to stay with his family in his village in Palestine. While it is unacceptable that Hisham and Li Na share a bed together in his family home, Hisham still found a way to sneak into her room at night. On the first night he laid in bed with her in his family's home he asked her to marry him. Li Na quickly turned Hisham down, telling him that they barely knew each other. She told me that while she knew she couldn't marry him, she understood that in his culture it is normal to propose so early on in a relationship.
"If it's your first love and you think 'oh my god I love her she's amazing' why not marry her because here in the culture you get to know the person when you are engaged and it's just beautiful because you always learn something (new) about the relationship," she said. "You are going to accept the faults in the other person...I think it's really beautiful."
Mario burst into our conversation to ask if either of us would continue a relationship for the long-term with someone we met while traveling.
"No, no, no," I said with a hint of annoyance. "I'm not on the kind of journey."
And it's true, I'm not on that kind of a journey. I have made a big effort this time around to sit with myself. I now know why short-term love, or travel love by extension, can seem so intense. We know (for the most part) that we are not in it for the long haul. So naturally, we are ourselves, we take down our walls, we spend all of our time together, and then we leave each other, usually with a kiss. It is special, this type of love, it may not last forever but we can keep it with us always. And I believe we get some of the best pieces of each other by these short bursts of love and affection. Often, these loves teach us how to let go gracefully and not force something that instinctively has an expiration date.
I've always had a hard time letting go of love. Like many of you, I am trying to learn from my patterns; to let go more beautifully and contain my expectations of the future. I think it's always valuable to ask yourself: do I really love this person or is this feeling of intensity from the inaccessibility of our relationship?
"Women are very complicated," Mario said throwing his hands in the air.
 |
| Visiting a mosque in Aqaba, Jordan |
"We don't have the same life," she said. "He saw war when he was young. He really hurts all the time and has a broken heart. I can't help even if I try and that's why I loved him because I wanted to save him."
I said nothing, but at that moment I understood her craving to love by attempting to cure. Love, it seems, is often synonymous with sympathy. We know we can't take away that pain, but we try, with all our might, even if it breaks us, to heal the wounds of our loved ones.
When Li Na had to leave Palestine, she did not know if she would ever see Hisham again. She told me about the internal struggle she felt when looking at Hisham with her luggage by her side. She hugged him at the bus station, something that is seen as taboo in public areas, and held on tight before abruptly deciding to cancel her flight home to spend one more night with Hisham and his family in Palestine. She spent hundreds of dollars re-booking her flight for the next day, the day her visa expired. Li Na said a tearful goodbye to Hisham and his family.
After a few months in her home country, she realized that her relationship with Hisham wouldn't last because of the literal and cultural space between them.
"We concluded that we were not together but we will keep on loving each other," she told me. "I would love to love him. I would love to force myself to be able to have just him and to love him as much as he loves me but I just can't. I love my freedom more than any guy but I do feel like at one point I will want someone that I will just want to be with."Hisham agreed their relationship would not last forever. Li Na told me that since Hisham is Palestinian, he is not free and therefore cannot understand her desire to travel. He is focused on survival, she said, and this is the catalyst for their misunderstanding of each other. Because of their nationalities, she is free and he isn't.
At the time of our meeting, Li Na was on her way from Jordan to Palestine to see Hisham for the first time in almost a year. It seems that their love draws them together even in the most challenging of circumstances.
"There is no way to know if it's love or not in life. We don't know what is love really. And I think love can be really different from any relationship we have. I think (Hisham) was different because I really felt that I was the only one in his life--this is a beautiful thing here and in the culture...when you know that you are really part of the life of the other but there is only you and he would do anything for you," she wistfully looked into the distance, her blue-green eyes smiled subtly while she focused on nothing in particular. Maybe she was looking into the future, maybe the past--whatever it was I knew she saw Hisham there with her.
*********************************************************************************
After 10 months of separation, Hisham and Li Na reunited.
Li Na is currently in Palestine and is staying with Hisham and his family. She is volunteering in Hebron with a human rights organization, the International Solidarity Movement, or ISM.
When I spoke with her a month after our time together, she told me that she is still struggling with the feeling that Hisham is not the one for her.
"Maybe the mistake is that I keep on staying with him because we have something special, we do. But it's not my life and I can't feel myself because I can't be. It's the same feeling I had before. Sometimes I kinda wanna force myself but I probably don't love him enough," she said speaking of the impending pressure to marry Hisham by his family. "Whenever you're not sure, that means it's not a good decision I think."
Li Na thank you for trusting me with your story <3 You have inspired me more than you know
Li Na beautifully tells the story of Marim, Hisham's mother below in a poem:
Marim,
She married when she was 14,
She was 14 and he was 30.
She didn't know him,
She was a child, he was an adult,
She was a child and she was scared.
"He is an honest man," her family told her,
"You can't refuse this honor," they told her,
Also, they weren't very rich, and
couldn't afford to keep girls at home.
And she didn't want to leave,
She loved school,
She wanted to study at the university,
like her sister did.
But, and so she got married,
She left school,
She left home,
and she left Palestine to go to Saudi Arabia with this man
she didn't know.
He was Palestinian, but his
work was over there at that time.
She was 14, and she was brave.
At the age of 15, she got pregnant,
At 16 she went back to Palestine,
and brought to life a
lovely little boy.
She had 11 children.
5 boys, and 6 girls
And her husband,
The guy she was afraid of,
became the love of her life.
He gave her respect,
He gave her protection,
and all the attention she needed.
He called her Ralia meaning "precious"
When they got married neither of them were too religious.
She wasn't wearing hijab,
She would dress with short skirts,
But they decided to read the Quran, and something changed.
They found the sense of life.
They both gave faith to Allah.
One day, he went to the mosque
in Bethlehem, he wanted to pray.
On the way back, just after he got
out of the mosque he had a heart attack. He fell down on
the ground and his son called the ambulance.
He died instantly.
He was 54 years old.
Abeer was devastated
She was left alone with 11 children
The youngest is 2 years old.
And she made it, she stayed strong,
She taught her children the values
of life and did everything she could
to fill up their needs.
And today without the love of her life,
She still smiles, laughs and brings happiness around her.
The family got broken,
but they are strong and supporting
with each other.
And Marim only wears black in respect for him.
Marim, you are the flower of my life <3
--Lina
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