Gaza City

A Gazan Fisherman's Tale

The old fisherman was sitting across the small table, smoking and gazing at the blue sea with sad eyes. The sixty years old fisherman Eid Abu Hasira found himself confined helplessly, sitting and waiting at the cafeteria of Gaza Port, now for weeks at one stretch. 

Gaza On Departing

The makeshift tank barricade on my street is gone. The twin piles of sand were probably never meant to do much more than provide area residents like myself with some sense of security. 

Sleepless in Gaza

Tank fire, machine gun fire, and roosters crowing; explosions, more tank fire, more gun fire, and those stupid all-night roosters with no sense of timing: How Not to Sleep in the Refugee Camp at Rafah-at least if you’re a visitor and listening to the “low intensity war” rage on the borders of the Gaza Strip all night still frays your nerves. 

In the eye of the storm

Helicopter gunships fired into crowded areas of Nablus and Jenin again today. Nobody knows how many are dead. Yesterday’s count stopped at 44. Ariel Sharon hasn’t finished his ‘operation’ yet. 

2 dead, 12 wounded in Gazan camp

Tel As-Sultan refugee camp west of Rafah city has been fired at randomly for no apparent reason. Shots were fired in the direction of civilian homes. Seven tanks have made an incursion 300 meters into the area killing 1 man, 1 schoolgirl, and wounding twelve, including two schoolgirls —one of whom is seriously injured. This is what Americans are paying for. 

Musings During the Lull - March 23, 2002

Things change here, but its almost impossible to notice. People are perpetually happy, unless they are dying, or angry over someone else’s death. The look on the face of the average Gaza City resident in the past 2 weeks has not changed. The kids still yell “Whats your name?” at me, the women still shyly look away and the shopowners still say “Welcome.” Prospects for peace haven’t changed any of that. Although I begin to wonder if its because no one is at all hopeful.