Border Crossings

An miniature airplane hangs in the center of the ceiling fan. Mohammad points up at it, Nadia brought it for my nephew, Ahmad, but I took for myself. An airplane. The center piece of a room filled with symbols of a ravaged homeland. Palestine. 

Back to Shatila

Abu Ismail is sitting on a sofa as he speaks. The tape recorder sits on a low table in front of him, absorbing his voice, and the noise of mopeds and people from the alley outside. He is in his mid-sixties, but looks perhaps a little older.