It's been a couple of days since I got back home, to Palestine. It's strange how with all this traveling I almost forgot what "practically" it is like to be here, at the same time I can still remember every smell, every corner, every person and every land. The first month of my life out of Palestine I used to wake up every night at exactly 2:00 am because this is the usual time when Israeli soldiers enter our village, today and after almost a year away from home I woke up at 2:06 am but this time for a real event and not because of a biological clock. Four Israeli jeeps have entered our village. I woke up on the sound of the gun shots, at the beginning they were all the sounds of Israeli arms, then the shouts of some kids throwing stones and whistling rose up. When you hear that here, you hold your hands together close to your face and you pray with closed eyes and a smile hardly painted, it's the sound of resistance!

Usually and in about less than 30 minutes from now, some kids walk in the streets with drums to wake up people for sohour as it is ramadan, I don’t think they will be able to do that today, but even if they couldn’t do it everyone is already awake. All of the kids who were throwing stones are back to their homes now, I saw how they walk in the streets talking to each other about what happened and when we asked them "eash fe?" (what is going on?) they only said; "don’t worry, everything is going to be ok"… and that was enough for me. The ambulance passed by them in a very quiet way trying not to be a target in case the Israelis came back.

At this moment the recitation of Quran [surat Al-Emraan] continues from the minarets of all four mosques around us , with a loud sound that over comes all this, comforting us and reminding us of the hope that never dies. This is our Ramadan, this is our Palestine … and i'm back home, loving every step I take on this land and looking forward for the next!

و رجعنا يا فلسطين!