The DQ of Amherst College

Fadi Hamati ’14

Once upon a time, there was a young mercenary, who traversed the deserts from Persia all the way to Egypt offering his deadly services. In the heart of Jordan, the mercenary fell in love with the daughter of a local warlord to whom he was contracted, and he was imprisoned in what many call “the worst Hell on Earth”. Known as The Pit, the prison was, and still is, virtually inescapable. Unbeknownst to the mercenary, however, the warlord’s daughter arranged for his release under the condition that she take his place in The Pit. Also unknown to him was that she was pregnant with the mercenary’s child and she gave birth inside the prison walls. She named their son Fadi.

Born at a young age, Fadi was raised by his mother in The Pit, and by age 7 he had found a way to become best friends with every single prisoner there. Fadi was an entertainer. First it was beatboxing – his dirty beats and scintillating rhythms becoming the center of prison culture for days on end. Next he taught himself to play guitar on a makeshift instrument that his mother crafted from a water pitcher and her own hair. Then there were the magic tricks, the salsa dancing, the backflips, and so many other random things you wouldn’t believe it. But even Fadi eventually grew tired of these performances. He longed for more – craved to explore the world beyond his stone prison.

Legend has it that only one person ever escaped The Pit. That person was Fadi. And then Batman. On a fine Jordanian summer’s day, young Fadi exclaimed, “La la la la la, I go now.” And so he did. Today, Fadi can be found roaming the Pioneer Valley, offering the same deadly services that his father had so many years before him, and doing all the random things that he had learned in his youth. And a lot of other things too.

Untitled Poem, by Fadi Hamati

My Dairy Queen’s udders are like the sun

with flavors and colors they come in blue and red

Their nipples shoot fire at the speed of a cowboy’s gun

Their flavors last for days, a taste will stick in your head.

DQ’s slender sound fills the sky

With ice cream, pancakes, smiles & colors

DQ will surely get you drunk and high

Because there it’s always happy hours

Shit might happen and you might be there alone

Taking hits, slipping under and falling down below

You’ll be stepping into darkness and the cold unknown

But when you’re there take a breath, easy and slow

Just know that DQ has got your back

You’ll never fall…shit…I want a big mac.