Saturday, January 10, 2009

First Person: Living in Gaza, Under Starlight and Bomb Blasts

As big sister, I accompany two of my five younger siblings to the roof of our 14-story building. We head up there whenever we can, even if people say it makes us easy targets. We climb 13 floors of stairs just to stand and look out on Gaza and breathe in 15 minutes of air before we duck inside again. "Burning City," the children call it. Columns of smoke rise from various locations in the distance changing the color of the sky and the sun. The entire landscape is transformed. We can make out the locations of several of the many public, residential and landmark buildings that have been turned to piles of rubble. Israeli tanks now block the roads where we used to drive along the coast. Dark, ominous warships look out of place so close to our beautiful Gaza shore, which had been one of the only escapes and source of relaxation for the besieged people of the Gaza Strip. Earthen barriers have risen in the Zatoun area, cutting off the densely populated, heavily bombarded neighborhood from the rest of the city.

Our entire lives is now one long chaotic stream of existence: waiting in line each morning to fill up containers with water from the only working tap on the ground floor of our building, baking homemade bread from the depleting supply of flour we managed to obtain a few days into the offensive, turning on the power generator for 30 to 50 minutes in the evening to charge phones and watch the news. Meanwhile, the constant in our lives has become the voice of the reporter on the small transistor radio giving reports every few seconds of the location and resulting losses from the explosion we just heard, or other attacks farther off on the Strip. This is not to mention the relentless sound of one or more of the Israeli Apache helicopters, F-16's or drones flying overhead. (See pictures of Israel's deadly assault on Gaza.)

On Friday, while we gathered around for dinner, we heard an explosion that shook our building more violently than any we have experienced so far. The panic and frenzy caused tempers to flare within seconds as each of my siblings argued about what we should do. Leaving the building might be dangerous, but remaining inside could be equally hazardous if the building was being hit by missiles.

People on the outside shouting and banging on our door (we are on the first floor) confirmed that the building had indeed been hit. Within moments we had thrown on jackets and shoes, grabbed a previously prepared file containing our official documents and left our home. We ran across the street, gathering with the other residents in front of the gate of the United Nations Relief and Works Agency headquarters. Young wide-eyed children, wailing infants, men and women stood begging the guard to open the gate and allow them to take cover inside. The guard refused. "Go to the UNRWA shelters", he shouted, "there's one 10 minutes away." We all knew that those shelters weren't safe, that 48 people have already been killed in them.

We found out what happened as an ambulance pulled up to the curb. "It was just a small rocket," someone said. "There was just one injury, a small boy on the 12th floor, a block from the wall fell on his back, the rocket came through the window. Small rocket. Everyone can go back to their apartments."

It was a paradoxical sense of relief that came upon us yet everyone, including the injured boy's family, was thankful that the off-target rocket was not a forewarning of another larger strike. Thousands of other families in Gaza have already been subjected to the horrors of destruction and displacement. We have seen the results of the vicious slaughter of scores of children after the Israelis hit the United Nations school where they had sought refuge. A few broken bones are far better than having skulls smashed or chests torn open. That's how we see it. That's our logic. (See pictures of heartbreak in the Middle East.)

We are now unable to distinguish joy from fear. My 11-year old sister laughs as she imagines how people all over the world watch the horrific events taking place in the Gaza Strip. "Its like we are a scary movie. I'm sure people eat popcorn as they watch," she says. My 12- and 14-year old brothers act out scenes from our reality while quoting Metal Gear Solid 4 and Guns of Patriots, their favorite video game, and we laugh hysterically at their performance. Moments later we tense up at the sound of a violent, close by earthquake-like explosion, and resume our laughter when the building stops shaking.

Before returning to our building, I couldn't help but stare at it for a moment and think that our homes might not always be safe places. But, still, they give us a sense of warmth, security and protection that are worth fighting for til the very end. I also couldn't help staring at the sky. The stars were beautiful and seemed to shine brighter than ever. I could make out several constellations and I counted five Israeli warplanes.

Safa Joudeh
Gaza, Palestine


  1. Safa,

    May these Israeli attacks -- crimes against humanity -- end soon. You have provided a glimpse into your lives and the terrible pain being inflicted upon Gaza.

    Our letters, phone calls to politicians, protests here in the U.S. seem so small in the face of these events. My friends and I here in Boston are horrified by the crimes being committed by Israel with U.S. weapons and support.

    As to popcorn, I have watched in despair, but I swear, not eating popcorn like it's a movie!

  2. Safa,
    My english isn't so good,but i'd like to tell you :here in morocco we're all the seeking for informations from Gaza.
    Of course simply as humans we are terrified by what is happening there,but as arabs we'd love to share your "hurts" with you.

    And as intellectuals,we don't understand how the people who was persecuted 50 years ago could do the same extermination today to others;knowing that the progress of weapons technics is so,so....

    please continue to inform us ;
    And if one day you have a state in palestine and a passport(soon i hope) i'd really love to see you in casablanca.

  3. Hello,
    Saturday, January 10, 2009 and Sunday , January 11, 2009 took place through all Europe of the demonstrations of support to the people Palestinian, and particularly to those which suffer in Gaza.
    I heard with the radio operator this evening, that a delegation of 5 European deputies succeeded has to return in Gaza this after midday by the terminal of Rafah, they could testify on line by telephone of the catastrophe generated by the attack to the Israeli army.
    In France about thirty associations will carry to carry felt sorry for against Israel for war crime to the T.P.I (international penal court).
    We are very numerous to remain mobilized to support you.

  4. In Canada, we're watching, listening and paying attention to your story. You and your family and friends are in our hearts and minds.

  5. Our hearts, minds, prayers are with you and your family and the rest of the people in Gaza, may the almighty god be with you.

  6. salute for you Gaza. God will be with you. Just pray.

  7. In Cape Town, South Africa, my Husband and I watch in utter despair as these terrible things are happening. We pray every minute that we can, that it will all end soon as my Husbands whole family lives in Zatoun and we have no way of getting in contact with them. We last heard from them on the 27 December 2008. We try every night with no response.
    We are praying for you all.

  8. Safa--

    I am a Jewish woman living in the United States. I am praying for you and your people. I want you to know that many people here including many Jews think what the Israeli government is doing to your people is horrific and violates your very basic human rights on many levels.

    I am sorry and saddened to hear your story.


  9. Bless your dear, sweet soul !

    Being able to laugh at the insanity of what they're doing to you is very healthy.

    I'm saying a prayer...

    ~ Alex from Our Evolution

  10. You are NEVER alone. We are with you. And, our hearts are crying. Be strong, and hopeful.

    N in Istanbul~

  11. I read your blog from home in Tasmania, Australia.
    Thankyou for telling some of the story.

    Now I have 'met' you through your blog I feel even more personally involved in this atrocity.

    You have done so well.Stay strong.

  12. Safa it is touchy to read your blog and your fear,your guilt for not providing sufficient security to your siblings makes me feel move.
    I pray for you and your siblings and want the UN and various super powerful countries to take a plight in this issue as soon as possible so that you along with many family in Gaza can breathe in free air.
    May God keep you and your family safe.
    With love

  13. Dear Safa,

    I've tried to reach out to you but it seems my efforts are in vain, so I will no longer try.

    I will continue to pray for you & all your loved ones, that one day you will find peace & harmony in the region.

    Best wishes for your health; physically & emotionally.....