Photo credit: Alan Gignoux
Date taken: 2004
Location: Burj Al-Barajneh refugee camp, Beirut, Lebanon
Zeinab Al-Saqqa, a refugee living in Burj Al-Barajneh refugee camp in Lebanon, is shown in this portrait wearing the wedding dress she wore before being evicted from her home in the Palestinian village of Al-Nahr. The dress is the only possession she brought with her when she fled for her life. [Read more...]
“One Occupied Gazan Summer” is a three-part personal narrative by Mariam I. who explores her thoughts and retraces her steps during her most recent visit to the Gaza Strip. Read part one here and part two here.
Part three of three. One of the most painful moments of my summer was sharing a tearful farewell with my mother the morning she was set to leave Gaza through Egypt, one week before her flight to the United States. I woke up, got dressed for work, and went to the side of her bed to tell her two months was not long enough to be sad about not seeing each other and that before we’d miss each other, I’d be rejoining her in the United States.
Before I could say any of those things, my mother’s tears were streaming down her face. I knew that as hard as it was for her to leave Palestine, it was harder for her to leave me there, uncertain of my safety. I hugged her, told her I’d miss her, and asked her to have a safe trip before I ran out of the room as quickly as I could. She couldn’t see me cry; I had to be strong so she wouldn’t worry. Goodbyes are never easy.
I cried in the stairwell and as I walked down the unpaved road in front of the house. I was able to compose myself in time to not look crazy before I had to hail a taxi. That was a difficult day of work. I found myself constantly searching the news for information on the status of the Rafah Crossing. How many busses were let through, how may were sent back, how many people were trapped in the lobby waiting to cross into Egypt?
I was terrified; my mother’s flight was approaching and she needed to get through as soon as possible, but also, I didn’t want to have to deal with another painful goodbye. I went home from work that day in the same depressed state that I arrived in. I entered the house and went straight for the kitchen, but oddly, I imagined my mother’s laugh. [Read more...]
“One Occupied Gazan Summer” is a three-part personal narrative by Mariam I. who explores her thoughts and retraces her steps during her most recent visit to the Gaza Strip. Read part two here and part three here.
Part one of three. As summer ends and fall begins, I find myself reflecting on the three months of summer I spent in Gaza this year. Though the sweet moments I miss most are the ones I spent laughing with my cousins deep into the night and getting lost with friends in neighborhoods we’d never before seen, the hardest moments to forget are the subtly brutal ways siege and occupation impacted our daily lives.
I remember two weeks in June of muted activity and total fear of non-emergency movement in the Gaza Strip. I had made my first set of plans with the girls from work; I was excited to finally have some kind of non-family-centered social life and to bond with a couple of girls my age. We were going to have lunch at a hotel in the Sudaniyyeh area of northern Gaza City.
I’d heard a lot about this place; it was fancy, extravagant, had a beautiful swimming pool, was impossible to afford for the overwhelming majority of Gazans, and hadn’t made any profit since it was built. I was a little too excited when I got dressed that morning. I remember hesitating before I decided to wear sandals to work. They are horribly too informal for a law student intern trying to make a good impression. But hey, I was going out with the girls. My boss would have to learn to deal with my sandaled feet.
I hopped out of my cheap, decrepit taxi and half-skipped to work. The girl who spearheaded the plans was the receptionist, Nour. As soon as I walked in, overly chipper and with a bounce in my step, I asked Nour if she was excited for our lunch date. She frowned and looked at me sympathetically as she explained that the Sudaniyyeh area, where the hotel was located, was totally off limits for our lunch plans. This area was known to be targeted during surges of Israeli attack, like the one we were experiencing. [Read more...]
Finals week finished and as part of my tradition to return to normalcy, I went for a refreshing haircut at Mike’s in northwest Chicago, as far from campus as I could get. The owner was out and an elderly man filled his place. Having been a regular at Mike’s for years now, I wondered who this man was and how he fit into the medley of young barbers representing all shades of brown. His seat was empty so he called me over.
I quickly learned that he’s the owner’s father, a veteran barber from Beirut who, in just thirty minutes, managed to share so many memories and even more wisdom that I found it only appropriate to jot this experience down.
Wielding sharp shears in one hand and a thick comb in the other, he told me of his early days in Jaffa. He would spend hours overlooking the Mediterranean Sea in all its calm glory, watching children not much younger than him wade out into the dense water and ride the miniature incoming waves.
He traveled to Gaza regularly to visit his aunts and uncles and has fond memories of the days he spent in Mokhayyam al-Shaati’, a refugee camp in the heart of Gaza City right along the coast. The ports were open at that time and he would watch boats unload their cargo freely. Although small and rocky, the mina saw its fair share of action. Even smugglers found the port to be a useful leg in their journeys moving cars and furniture through the Middle East. [Read more...]
// Entry #39
Although under occupation, siege, and the steady threat of invasion, Palestinians in the Gaza Strip must continue with their everyday lives.
A Palestinian man sits in the shade of his storefront in central Gaza City.
In the Sabra neighborhood of Gaza City, Kareem sits with his father and brother during a family visit.
A Palestinian student holds one of two images of his brother currently detained in Israel’s Nafha Prison. Hussain Mustafa Al-Loh is serving a 99-year prison term without ever being formally indicted. His family, like many families in Gaza and elsewhere, await his return. [Read more...]
Guest contribution by Wedad Yassin
Abd, 64, has been a loyal worker in the Hirbawi family’s keffiyeh factory in Al-Khalil (Hebron) since it opened in 1961. This is the only authentic Palestinian keffiyeh factory in the world.
A Palestinian family’s home enclosed by Israel’s apartheid wall. [Read more...]
// Entry #17
Are they not as beautiful, not as adorable as your children? Are they any different from the children you see in your streets? Sure, they speak a different language, live in overpopulated city-slums, and can most likely name at least one nuclear family member injured or killed during Operation Cast Lead but they’re really not much different from you when you were a child.
These are the beautiful children of a refugee camp in Khan Younis, just southwest of Gaza City in the Gaza Strip.
Note: Very few girls were outside when I was in the area. Those that were shied away from the camera.
