Ana Arabia
- Year:
- 2013
- 85 min
- 17 Views
1
Hello, it's Yael.
Is Itzik there?
Tell him I'm in Giaffa.
I'm going to Siam Hassan's house.
The Holocaust survivor
who converted to Islam, died...
Exactly.
Yes, could be interesting...
I'll check the story
and let you know.
Sure.
Thanks. Bye.
Good morning.
Can we help you?
My name Yael,
May her memory be blessed.
I am Yussef.
I'm Siam's husband.
Welcome. Nice to meet you.
Thanks...
for everything.
Do you live here?
We won't leave.
Isn't it beautiful here?
- Wonderful.
We're having problems sometimes.
Since you're here...
Sometimes
they don't let us...
Don't talk too much.
She's a journalist.
Shut up,
don't say silly stuff.
Stop it.
- Come with me.
I'm sorry.
- No problem.
I feel good here.
I go out just to work.
I found a job...
so I can buy food,
cigarettes, clothes.
I don't need much else.
If I have a shekel,
I buy food.
Otherwise, I have my garden.
But the district
wants to throw me out.
I told them
that I won't go anywhere.
I won't leave.
What's your job?
I retrieve wood, iron,
aluminum,
copper.
Blocks.
Waste building material,
that's all.
Did you think
I worked in an office?
I earn 30 shekels a day.
Thank God.
May Allah be blessed.
Where are you from?
Where were you born?
Lady, we're from here.
I don't know where my family is.
I heard at the radio
that my father is dead.
My grandfather as well.
I haven't heard anything
about my uncles.
Maybe they are...
in Kuwait, or in Iraq or in Syria.
In Jordan,
in Turkey
I have no idea.
Is this all yours?
- Yea.
- All of it?
There was my grandfather's
carpentry shop here, too.
If they would give me back
my grandfather's carpentry shop...
Those who do not study remain asses.
I had to learn on my own
what was good and what was evil.
To help the ones who help me,
to do good.
I didn't learn it at school.
That was what my father
used to always tell me.
He used to say:
"If you have a guest,
doesn't matter what happens,
don't ever
be angry with him.
Even if he slaps you,
even if you're bleeding.
You have to smile,
welcome him.
Treat him well.
Be welcoming, give him
everything he wants."
This is what I learned.
And this is what I taught to my wife,
may she rest in peace.
I told her
if they're looking for me,
whether I'm at home or not,
welcome them well,
let them in,
"Have a seat, please",
give them what they ask for.
Those who do not study remain asses.
Do you have any children?
I have...
a son, Jihad,
Walid,
Do you smoke?
Yes, but I smoked
before coming here, thanks.
Do you want me
to introduce you to my daughter?
Sure, I would be pleased.
Please.
After you.
Windy.
My daughter Miriam.
They say love
is stronger than death.
That's what people say.
Those who love
cannot control themselves.
My parents relationship
was like positive and negative.
Like the electric current.
Love controlled them,
that's why
they couldn't split up.
People were telling her:
"He's not good for you."
They were bound.
Love decided for them.
There was nothing here.
There were only rocks
and garbage, filth everywhere.
My mother arrived,
decided to remove the rocks
I helped her,
to fill the empty spots
with terrain,
to plant trees.
This way it would have been green,
not yellow.
She thought that by giving
people what they lacked
maybe they would have loved us.
But it was no use,
they didn't accept her.
Treating her like an enemy.
Wasn't she afraid?
"Whoever enters Auschwitz
as a coward, will leave a coward.?
"who comes in as a liar
will come out as a liar."
Life has many paths.
Everyone tries alternative ones.
Not everyone
stays on the main one,
because we get fed up.
But we want to know
where the path will take us.
Out of curiosity.
Every day is a surprise.
A gift.
we just walk.
Man creates his own path.
He faces the
obstacles...
and goes on.
Some people say
"he's a Jew, he's Arab",
they discriminate.
A lot of people
used to ask my wife,
may she rest in peace,
"How can you live with an Arab?"
But she didn't listen to them.
It's true, she didn't listen.
Miriam, where are the cigarettes?
You didn't ask for them.
I'll go to the market then.
No, go to Ibrahim.
People used to talk about it,
then they got used to it.
It was hard at the start,
but those who knew us
got used to it.
But in the Fifties and Sixties...
we were attacked often.
- Who did?
Friends.
What were they saying?
Her friends.
They used to tell her:
"Your husband is an Arab?
We will kill him."
They were saying that
everyday.
Every time we went to the harbor
I thought she'd run away.
But she didn't.
No, she didn't.
Do you know why?
Why?
Let me tell you a story,
an old one.
The story of Antar.
Antar was a hero,
like the ones in stories,
like in the Bible, like Samson,
every population has its own heroes.
We Arabs have Antar.
Antar was Shaddad's son.
Shaddad was...
the tribe's sheik.
Do you know what is it?
- Kinda like a king?
- More or less.
His father, Shaddad,
fell in love with a black slave.
Antar was a black slave,
no one knew he was a hero,
until one day
every man went to war
and he stayed at home with the women.
Some foreigners arrived,
singed the house, attacked him,
he fought alone,
and drove them away.
He became a hero.
- Why?
- Why?
Because he loved Abla.
Abla was a free white woman
and he was a black slave.
- Nice story.
- Nice story.
Come, I'll introduce you to Sara.
Sara is my son Jihad's wife.
- Good morning.
- Good morning.
Are you wondering
if the story is real, aren't you?
I'm still trying to understand it.
When she was born
her mother succeeded in hiding her.
And after the war they came here,
they survived,
and after some years
they gave them an apartment.
There were some Arabic workers
on the construction site, obviously,
she fell in love with Yussef
and ran away with him.
She was 15.
The police came and took her away
and she ran away again.
In the end she stayed.
I imagine she had no choice,
she had a family, children...
She gave them everything
because she loved them.
Gave them everything.
Except the color of their skin.
Come, let her be.
Did he tell you about Antar?
Are you his son?
I'm Walid.
Yael.
Good morning.
I used to be a fisherman.
But the times have changed,
Boats are back at the harbor.
Not even the bigger ships
are going out fishing.
But we keep on looking for the black gold.
Careful.
Oil.
There have been some explosions.
They happened this morning.
All the fishes are dying
because of their explosions.
The sea is really sick.
The sea is sick...
They just pour naphtha and oil in it,
garbage, wastes, everything.
And now the explosions...
It hurts.
But what can I do?
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