Tell me more about Little Syria.
What I’m essentially doing with Little Syria is remembering this neighborhood and this experience that no longer has any real markers to show for it. I was a fellow at the Kennedy Center when I first started working on the project. I have connections with the Arab American National Museum, which has a wonderful archive, and North Carolina State’s Khayrallah Center for Lebanese Diaspora Studies has done a great job of archiving a lot of the old newspapers from the neighborhood—it was a highly literate community that published dozens of newspapers in Arabic and English. Digging through archives, having the good fortune of being able to read both in Arabic and English, and being able to relate to a lot of the experiences as an immigrant, as a Syrian, as somebody who has a love for art and literature—seeing a reflection of my experience from 100 years ago was pretty cool. Reading some of the headlines from New York City in the 1890s, it’s almost as if they were lifted from today: “Syrians must go back. Arabs not wanted.” All kinds of anti-immigrant sentiment, which sadly is still pervasive. At a time when the rhetoric surrounding the campaign for Donald Trump’s presidency was very specifically anti-Syrian, anti-refugee, anti-immigrant, anti-Muslim, this was a way for me to refocus my energy, to really root myself here.
Who are some inspiring Arab American storytellers we should be paying attention to?
In New York City, Felukah is really great. She’s a young, up-and-coming Egyptian rapper and singer. Nibal Malshi was raised in Palestine but lives in Dallas; she has performed with the National Arab orchestra and does very beautiful traditional Palestinian music. Clarissa Bitar is a Palestinian oud player and music producer based in Southern California—we’re performing together in April for Arab American Heritage Month in New Jersey. In comedy, Ramy Youssef is amazing, he’s really opened up a lot of doors, and Mo Amer is a dear friend. I love the success of his Netflix show. Then there’s chefs I’m really excited about. Reem Assil is awesome—she’s half Syrian, half Palestinian, Bay Area-based, very, very community oriented. Her food is almost like the way I am with my music, it’s both authentic and forward thinking. I really appreciate how she is also very much an activist through food, whether it’s Palestinian history or labor rights in America and making sure that the people who work with her are treated fairly and respected. Her bread is incredible—I love that she cares so deeply about bread as the foundation of our food experiences.
You’ve lived in a lot of places—DC, New York, LA. What are some of your favorite Syrian spots in each?
While I’m very proud of being Syrian, I’m equally proud of the Arab American culture. In DC, there’s a really awesome cafe called Yellow by Michael Rafidi, it’s amazing. I brought the baklava croissant back with me to New York. Then there’s Maydan for more upscale dining; I love the architecture, the way you walk in and don’t expect it, it’s kind of hidden. In New York, Tanoreen, a Palestinian restaurant, has been in Bay Ridge for a long time. They have legendary knafeh. Rawia Bishara is the patron, even in her older age she walks around tables and greets people and makes sure everybody’s taken care of. There’s also Syko in Brooklyn—I love Syrian and I love Korean, and I’m super happy that they’re getting people excited about fusing cultures in a cool way. In LA you have the whole Little Arabia experience in Anaheim, with lots of really great restaurants. But one of the things that I get nostalgic about is what I believe to be the best fast food shawarma place. It’s called Zankou. It’s a Lebanese-Armenian family-owned chain all over Southern California. Get the chicken tarna, the garlic sauce is epic.
