Diaries: Live from Palestine

The closed gates to Gaza


We had planned to leave Gaza around the beginning of June, with tickets booked out of Cairo 7 June. My parents were to come along with us for a visit. As is often the case in Gaza, things don’t always go according to plan. Rafah was open erratically during the month of May, and closed entirely the week prior to our departure. Wonderful, we thought — at least we could make our flight, if only barely. Laila El Haddad recounts barely squeezing out of Gaza early June only to have the gates to the Strip lock behind her and the thousands of other Palestinians currently stranded in Egypt. 

Frustration mounts amongst the stranded at al-Arish


Any patience we might have once had has dissipated during the past weeks we’ve been stranded here in Egypt — any patience that would have held us over as we have been badly missing our loved ones in Gaza, the patience we might have once had steadily running out along with our money. To learn about these seemingly forgotten Palestinians, EI correspondent Rami Almeghari, also stuck in Egypt, heard the accounts of some of the thousands of people trying to return to their homes and lives in Gaza. 

Is this Ben Gurion or Hell?


Anyone who has traveled through Ben Gurion airport in Israel knows that it is a unique experience. For most Israeli Jews, the experience is comforting, a quick and accommodating entry into a nation created and developed for their exclusive benefit. For Palestinian-Americans and many activists working in occupied Palestine it is quite a different experience. Most of these travelers are held for hours and questioned repeatedly, some of who are stripped naked and in some cases (especially in the last two years) denied entry. EI contributor Remi Kanazi reflects on his recent experience there. 

Who are we forgetting?


I thought about the irony as I walked the grounds of the old Orthodox Church, surveying the church and the new wall being constructed around it. We were visiting with members of the al-Mujaydal Heritage Committee who were working to construct this wall in what was the village of al-Mujaydal. Al-Mujaydal was one of the over 500 Palestinian villages destroyed between 1947 and 1949, and its residents among the 750,000 to 900,000 refugees expelled from their homes in what Palestinians remember as the Nakba or “Catastrophe.” 

A tribute to my grandparents' home


I first learned of my grandparents’ home being demolished a few months after it actually happened in October 2003. Rafah was besieged by the Israeli army at that time and phone calls to Gaza were nearly impossible. Al-Brazil housing project was hit especially hard because it was alongside the Gaza-Egypt border. I remember I was driving to school in Pennsylvania when my mother called to tell me. She was very calm, and reported it to me like she reported every other piece of news that came out of Gaza. I could not comprehend what she was saying. 

Stranded at the border


My wife and myself, like thousands of other Palestinians, are currently stranded in Egypt since the Rafah crossing to Gaza was closed in mid-June. We are now staying closer to our home of Gaza. The destination this time is not Cairo. Rather, it’s the coastal town of al-Arish now that my wife has completed her medical treatment in the Egyptian capital. In the evening of 7 July, we cheerfully smiled for the first time since my wife was hospitalized in a Cairo hospital a month ago, after the doctor assured us she could leave the hospital. However, EI contributor Rami Almeghari and his wife have been unable to return home. 

My mother is in her last moments and I cannot cross the borders


My mother is in the hospital at the moment. She is severely ill. She was admitted to the hospital three days ago. I cannot reach her. I finished my 45-day speaking tour in the US. All across the US and during every lecture I told the audience about our suffering, living in this big prison called Gaza. I told them about the borders closure and about the patients who passed away while waiting to cross the borders. The borders have been closed for more than five weeks and patients have died while waiting to cross the Rafah crossing, the only crossing between Gaza and Egypt. 

At the doors of Gaza


I considered myself lucky to be able to rent a small “chalet” in al-Areesh and to have the money to manage my expenses. This, however, is not the case for about 5,000 Palestinians who are stuck in Egypt and were not allowed to go back home. The humanitarian situation for the Palestinians in al-Areesh here is very harsh. You can find hundreds walking or sitting in the streets, some sleep in the mosques or the public garden after running out of money. The grocer from whom I buy things told me that every day dozens of men come proposing to sell their cell phone or hand watches to him. 

Hello from Rafah


Here in Gaza, we’re all listening to the radio and watching the news every hour (our only way of knowing what’s happening in the outside world), waiting to see what Abu Mazen (Mahmoud Abbas), Israel and the US are planning for us, and where our fate will take us. This has become more than a prison for the people of Gaza. It’s hard not to feel like animals in a zoo, where we are caged and have enough food for two weeks at a time to keep us alive, but not well or free while someone decides what to do with us. 

The failing of Gaza


Transportation is one of the few sectors of Gaza’s economy that is relatively constant. No matter how dire the financial situation, collective taxis are always shuttling people along the main roads of the Gaza Strip. This past week saw an exception to even this rule, reflecting the severe desperation of Gaza. There are a few reasons for this. Many people are afraid of what the future may bring. Militarily, Hamas has shown its domination over Fatah by ousting the latter in 48 hours. Philip Rizk writes from Gaza. 

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