Durham: A thing of beauty is a joy forever
People have given her different names; some say ‘Durham’ (with a long vowel and articulated ‘H’), while others say ‘Dar alhamm’ (which, in Arabic, means ‘house of anxiety’). I remember the times we gathered, a group of friends, in a small room in Keenan House to perform the Fajr prayer. Once, having finished the prayer, I looked at Abu Khaled who was, at that time, in the final year of his PhD. He was always anxious, from first thing in the morning until he fell asleep at night, and then he would wake up again ready for another day of anxiety under the stress of studies. I thought it would be good to chill him out with a joke, so I said: “If you want to dispel your anxiety, food is the only way.” He smiled and looked at me saying: “And to curse Durham the whole day.” By and large, what different students choose to call Durham depends on their psychological state.
However, the fact is that the name Durham (with a silent ‘H’) is a compound of the Old English word “dun”, meaning hill and the Old Norse “holme”, meaning island because it is built on seven hills and on a peninsula. Durham is located in the Northeast of England, close to the Scottish border.
What can I say of a city in which my soul is scattered in all its corners? Where there cannot be a single inch that does not bring memories of sorrow, anxiety or vigil; memories of serenity and joy; or something between the two. In the words of Junior Akhtal: “He cries and laughs not from sadness or joy, like a lover who draws a line in the air and then erases it.”
What can I say of a city where the experience of the birth of my children, Reema and AbdulRahman took place? I can never forget the cries of joy from my heart when the news of my first daughter was brought to me, or the tears of joy shed by my eyes, caring not about shyness or embarrassment from the people around me.
Or what can I say of a city where spent my days and nights, all but a few, as a student, between books and notepads that absorbed my sweat and chewed my veins? A student who ended up hating ‘espresso’, which almost brought me close to death? Nevertheless, Durham will continue to flow in my blood and make its home between my ribs. Bill Bryson, the famous American writer, who was rewarded for his description of Durham in Notes From a Small Island by being appointed Chancellor of the University in 2005, writes in his book: “I arrived at Durham station coming from the USA, as after having explored southern cities of the country and roved around their streets, I wanted to experience the north as well; the minute I stepped onto Durham station, I fell in love with this city immediately without any premises in a very irrational way. If you have not visited Durham yet, take my car now and give it a go. Most probably you will not be back.”
I attended the graduation of some friends in 2011, which took place in the majestic setting of the cathedral, which was built more than eight hundred years ago. University staff wore a special uniform reserved for such events. It was Bryson’s last year at Durham as he was leaving to concentrate on his writing. Following a lengthy speech, delivered with his usual breathtaking eloquence and often sarcastic language, he stepped forward towards the students and said: “I will never forget the best time I have ever spent; between the corners of this university or in this beautiful and magnificent city of Durham” Then, he took off his black shaded red hat saying: “With no hesitation, I vote for Durham to be the best city on earth”. He paused and the tone of his voice changed as he went on, “I will miss you, my dear, but it is time to say goodbye”.
I, for my part, say: I won’t forget you, my dear, and every second of you will remain engraved in my heart, but it is time to say goodbye.
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