My father, George Kuttab, and his mother, our Tata Nazira Fatalleh, fled their neighborhood of Musrara in what is now West Jerusalem in May 1948, after their sister Hoda’s husband, Elias, was killed by Zionist snipers in front of her and her children. They went to the Jordanian city of Zarqa and were later followed by my paternal uncle, Qustandi. Ammo (“uncle” in Arabic) Qustandi’s words, which became famous within our family and were repeated in our homes for years when he arrived in Zarqa,