There is a black dust that is filling the air. We are breathing it in … constantly. It has settled on my clothes, in my kitchen — it is everywhere. We are guessing it is from the Jiye power station that was bombed. It is still on fire. It is the power station from which the oil spill originated from.Today I had my first experience at queuing for gas. The shortages have arrived. So many gas stations have shut down. The few that are left have long queues. I waited for 40 minutes, and when my turn came, I was give $10 worth only. I only have a few minutes left before the electricity gets cut. we are running on generator now and they usually turn it off at midnight. Read more about Every time I think that things can't get worse, they do
Three of my colleagues went to Tyre today. I will spare you the details of what they saw and wrote. There’s only one thing that I need to share with you. Saada went to Jabal Amel hospital where she found a four year old boy, Hassan Chalhoub, who had spent the previous night in the morgue between the dead. He had been sleeping next to his sister, six-year-old Zeinab, in the shelter in Qana. There with him were his mom and his dad, who’s confined to a wheelchair. Many of the people of Qana are survivors of the 1996 massacre, when 110 people were killed and more than 100 were injured when by Israeli raids on civilians who had sought shelter in a nearby UN base. Thus, many of the people of Qana have special needs. Read more about Four-year-old Qana survivor's night between the dead
15-year-old Somaia Okal ignored her sister Maria as she asked her to leave the swing for her, while their mother Asma, 30, played with her 8-month-old infant Shahd, in Jabalia, north of Gaza. This Wednesday, an Israeli shell hit their house and put an end to the laughing and chatter of the innocent Maria and Shahd. The mother was also killed, and Somaia critically wounded in the head; the 5-year-old, Amani, was wounded in the foot. Samir Okal, 35, a father of seven, did not expect that the Israeli tanks will hit his house as he lives in the “serene” neighbourhood of Abd Rabbu, which enjoys a reputation for “safety.” Read more about Mother and Two Children Killed in Israeli Attack on Gaza
After two weeks of waiting with my parents and brother at the Egyptian border crossing, I returned home to Rafah, Gaza from a trip. We waited because the Israelis didn’t allow us to cross the border. We spent two days outside the border terminal in Egypt and 12 days inside the border terminal. 4,000 Palestinians waited like this, some for three weeks. Sometimes we got food and water, sometimes not. I don’t remember if I really slept or not during twelve days inside the terminal. I didn’t eat a lot because really I didn’t want to go to the bathroom. It wasn’t a bathroom actually - four walls and a piece of plastic for the door. Nine Palestinians died there. Read more about "We suffer together, we leave together"
We visited Qana six weeks ago. To get there from Beirut, you pass through Tyre and then head southeast. The village clusters about a hilltop less than eight miles from Lebanon’s southern border, and about thirty miles from Nazareth. There is a scholarly debate about whether this was the site of the Wedding at Cana, where Jesus is said to have performed his first miracle, creating wine from water. The Roman historian Eusebius and St. Jerome both believed this was the place. There is no doubt that Qana was an early Christian site. For those schooled in Hollywood movies and religious picture books, this is a Biblical-looking landscape that exceeds all expectations. Read more about They Have No Wine
My love affair with Lebanon began when I left America in 1969 to settle in Beirut with my Lebanese husband, Michel, and our two small children, Naim and Nayla. In Beirut, I found my place to grow. My commitment to stay there through the first eight years of the civil war was a consequence of that deep love affair. I had married into a family that was loving and accepting. It was exciting to wake up every day as a foreigner embraced by a Lebanese family. This is the kind of love which develops a loyal Beirut heart, one which never dissolves. When war began in 1975 I chose for practical reasons to stay and fight. When I say ‘fight’ I mean fight in a way a housewife does. Read more about A loyal Beirut heart
1,500 members of the New York community, horrified at the senseless killing of Palestinians and Lebanese by the Israeli military, marched across the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan today to demand an end to the violence. The Israeli military has killed nearly 200 Palestinians in a matter of weeks, including dozens of children. In less than two weeks in Lebanon, Israel has killed nearly 500 Lebanese and made one million more refugees in their own country. In both Palestine and Lebanon, Israel has targeted civilian infrastructure, such as power plants, roads, factories, schools, airports, and bridges. Read more about 1,500 Protesters March Across Brooklyn Bridge
I have been feeling numb for a while; the overwhelming news in the past few days has focused on the displaced, the searing stories of people who fled in fear and left all their possessions behind. Calls on TV stations and on the radio of people who lost their loved ones … Stories of their anxiety about homes they left behind … Scenes of people murdered on the roads as they fled … And stories of the destruction they saw on those roads. I get confused: Am I seeing and hearing the stories of Palestinians who fled their homes in fear in 1948? No: I am in Beirut, it is 2006, and these are the stories of the Lebanese who have been rendered refugees, but by the same perpetrators of the 1948 displacement: the State of Israel. Read more about We have lost our faith
Salaam a’laykum - peace be upon you. The greeting used by Arabs and Muslims all over the world - and for the people of Lebanon, Palestine and Iraq, a poignant reminder that peace is a precious thing. Seeing the images of massacre at Qana today I don’t know where to begin - or how to stop crying. I feel I can only convey fragments - perhaps because my heart is breaking. I’m trying hard not to seem melodramatic, because I know how it is there - you read this in the midst of a long, exhausting, busy day and too many of these and it’s too much to bear, it feels so far away. Read more about A night at the symphony in Damascus
It is mid-morning here in Nablus and the sound of bullets are ripping through the air from somewhere very close by. Sirens are wailing in the distance. Yesterday, around midnight, special Israeli forces assassinated two activists near the old city of Nablus. The scattered volleys and the sound signatures of different caliber bullets are tell-tale signs of a funeral procession. But what I see in front of me on the television screen is much more disturbing. Videos of little boys and girls, all dead, being pulled out from under the rubble of a building. It is much too painful to look for more than a few seconds at a time. Read more about The recurring scenario of death at Qana
