Gaza diary, part 34: ‘I just wish to go back to spending a day in bed, reading’
8am
I have never been a fan of the sun nor the sunny weather. I am a lover of the rain, winter and tree leaves falling. I remember at high school – my English language teacher would always ask me and other students during the recess to stand in the sun. “Hug the sun, feel its warmth. It is full of vitamin D.” I did what she asked but never liked it.
On the other hand, this teacher opened the door for me to learn about literature, which I loved. In class, we would read summarised classics like Great Expectations, Pride and Prejudice and A Tale of Two Cities.
My friend shares with me the results of the Booker prize; it seems that Prophet Song won this year. Based on brief descriptions of the shortlisted books, I see myself more interested in reading The Bee Sting.
I just wish to go back to spending a whole day in my bed, while it is raining outside, and enjoy reading one book after another. One fear I had was dying before reading enough of all the beautiful and great books in this world. Now, I am terrified of dying before even living my life.
But during these times, I could not pray enough for the weather to be sunny. First, for those who are living in schools and tents not to suffer, and to be able to charge our batteries and phones using the solar power of our neighbours. Unfortunately, since yesterday, it has been raining heavily. We had hail.
In no time, most of the streets around us were covered by water due to the poor infrastructure. Most people are still wearing flip-flops shoes are a luxury they cannot afford. I have noticed many people wearing torn flip-flops. How can they move in the streets?
And what about food? Usually, people eat more to maintain the warmth of their body. But the opposite is happening. One friend of mine, who is average weight, told me that he lost over 8kg so far. There is very little food available yet they exert a lot of effort trying to secure basics. He tells me: “You know what we did to reduce our suffering? The whole family decided to start fasting. This obligates all of us to not ask or wonder about food all day long. When the sun goes down, we have our only meal depending on what is available.
Many families have no access to flour, so they cannot even have bread. A friend, in another area, tells me: “We haven’t had a piece of bread in four days. We have children, which worsens our misery. We have some food left, but it is not enough. Adult men are crying in the streets begging to buy, not get, flour.”
Ahmad’s younger brother comes into the room to say good morning. We discuss how sad we are to have such cold weather. He also discusses another luxury we no longer have: hot drinks whenever we wanted.
Nowadays, with the lack of cooking gas, drinking something hot is a long process that starts with creating heat by burning wood or nylon, cartons and plastic. Also, you always need to check whether it is a priority or not to drink now to maintain the resources.
He shares with us the memory of the last cappuccino he had: “It was hot and delicious. I really enjoyed it and could feel its taste in my mouth till now. What irritates me the most is that I remember not completing my cup because I was in a hurry. I drank half of it and then left not knowing it would be my last time to drink cappuccino. Now, two months later, I would drink it till the last drop.”
3pm
Ahmad has volunteered to help the displaced children in the schools and other areas. He would go with a group of youths and play games with the children and their parents; tell them stories and sing together. He would go every morning at 8am and get back at around 3. I asked him about how he feels about this.
He says the situation is horrible. Every classroom has about 70 people, including at least 30 children. He couldn’t comprehend how they were able to divide the small room to include four or five families. He says the playground is a camp itself. You cannot put your foot in. The overpowering smell of sewage is just awful.
“But the children, and their parents, enjoy the activities. One thing we did was face drawing. One girl wanted a yellow dog; the other wanted a butterfly; and a boy asked for the sun. Their parents are grateful that we are creating some moments of happiness during these miserable times.”
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At the end of our discussion, he recalls a young boy he met. “He told me that he misses his house in the north, and he wants to go back there to his happy life.” The mother of the boy told Ahmad that he does not know that his home was destroyed. Heartbreaking.
6pm
Even though those who left Gaza are in a much better place and they are safer, they are still facing many challenges. For instance, one friend of mine left Gaza with her family with almost no money. Now, they are borrowing money from friends living abroad and she told me that she is looking for a job. So, they are safe, but need to survive on their own.
But the biggest misery is the fear for their loved ones and the feelings of guilt for leaving them behind. Another friend received the news of the death of her brother and other family members. She is devastated.
10pm
Lying on the couch covered with blankets trying to get warm, I think of one of the best book’s introductions that I’ve read. It was Charles Dickens: “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom. It was the age of foolishness. It was the epoch of belief. It was the epoch of incredulity. It was the season of light. It was the season of darkness. It was the spring of hope. It was the winter of despair.”
Sitting in darkness, in Gaza’s winter of despair, I wonder how Gaza is going through the worst of times, and how accurate is the description in Dickens’ introduction is of the world’s current state.
I pray for this nightmare to be over; I pray that our suffering and misery would end. But right now, what I wish for the most, is for the cold weather to disappear, and for the sun to come up, so Gazans would stand under it to warm their bodies, and their hearts and souls.