Friday, February 4
ALL THE ORANGES OF TRIPOLI
It is not enough for everything to stem
from Lebanon—no, my father contends,
it was Tripoli where oranges first originated,
and if my sisters and I had any doubt—
Just look at this Wikipedia entry for oranges,
my father says, his gap-toothed grin widening
not unlike an orange split open, just look—
and like magic (whose origins, I'm told,
are also Lebanese), there for the world
to see: unassailable proof that oranges
come not from South China nor Spain
but Tripoli. And I know oranges
belong to everyone and no one,
and I know my father
is not above editing Wikipedia—
did you know Wikipedia
may well have Lebanese roots?—
and his research may be scientifically
unsound, a story heard from an uncle or cousin,
but this is absolutely true: once
there were vast orange orchards in Tripoli,
and when they were in bloom
the whole city smelled like citrus—
it was like a beautiful woman's perfume,
it was like you could smell sunlight,
and during the war and after
and every time Tripoli burned—imagine
the fruit peeled in your palm,
now imagine that fruit is a city—
It was unlike anything, he says,
I'm telling you, anything.
(Ruth Awad)