Increased targeting of International Solidarity Movement

In this article Michael Shaik, Media Coordinator of the International Solidarity Movement writes about two recent events with direct bearing on Israel’s murder of Rachel Corrie.

On 14 February 2002 the ISM faced two almost simultaneous crisis in Rafah and Nablus. Both involved incidents where members of the ISM were in danger of being killed or seriously injured by the soldiers of the Israeli Occupying Army while conducting non-violent resistance to the occupation.

Rafah
At 2 pm on Friday the ISM received word that Israeli military bulldozers were demolishing houses in Rafah town in the south of the Gaza Strip. The destruction is part of Israel’s “Apartheid Wall” policy towards the Occupied Territories. Whereby Palestinians communities will be sealed from the outside world by a massive series of walls, complete with towers from which military sharpshooters can monitor their activities. The section of the Wall under construction near Rafah stretches along the entire length of Gaza’s border with Egypt. To give the snipers in the wall’s towers clear fields of fire, the Israeli occupation forces in Gaza intend to demolish all the houses within 70 – 100 metres of the wall

As soon as they received word of the demolitions seven activists (3 US, 3 UK and 1 Dutch) left ISM Rafah headquarters in Gaza to resist them. The site of the demolitions was in an area of Rafah known of “Block O” that is overlooked by four of the wall’s towers including the infamous Saleh e-Deen Tower from which Israeli snipers have murdered several of Rafah’s residents. When they arrived the activists saw a row of six houses being systematically bulldozed by two Israeli military bulldozers guarded by a tank. They were unable to approach the bulldozers directly because of landmines but found an alternative route to the devastation, which bypassed the minefield.

As soon as the activists began to approach the bulldozers they were fired upon from the towers and the tanks which directed rifle and machine gun fire at the ground in front of them. Using their megaphone the activists announced that they were unarmed international peace activists and continued to advance. The tank and the soldiers in the towers continued to fire warning shots at them but the activists refused to submit to their intimidation and continued their approach.

As soon as the activists came under fire they phoned the ISM media office to alert me to the danger they were under and I immediately made an emergency call to the US consulate in Tel Aviv to inform them what was happening and request that they alert the headquarters of the Israeli occupying forces in the Gaza Strip that there were international peace activists (including 3 Americans) in Rafah Town that were coming under fire from Israeli troops and ask them to please exercise restraint (the standard ISM procedure in such circumstances).

After being put on hold several times. I had the following conversation with US consulate staff:

Diplomat: I’m sorry but its Shabbat and we can’t contact anyone in the Army because they’re all on holiday.

ISM: On holiday? Then what are they doing demolishing houses in Rafah and shooting and international volunteers for?

Diplomat: I’m sorry but we don’t have anyone we can contact in the Army.

ISM: Then phone the Department of Foreign Affairs and tell them to contact the Army. [The standard protocol under such circumstances.]

Diplomat: What are they doing in the area?

ISM: They’re trying to stop house… Can I speak to the consul please?

Diplomat: Please hold a minute…

Ingrid Barzel: How can I help you?

ISM: This is an emergency call about a group of International Peace Activists in Rafah Town that are being fired upon by Israeli troops. I’m phoning you because I want you to get in contact with the Army and advise them that there are American nationals in the area and ask them to please exercise restraint.

Ingrid Barzel: Please advise your people there to leave the area.

ISM: Look they’re in the area and they don’t intend to go anywhere. They’re trying to stop houses being demolished by military bulldozers.

Ingrid Barzel: We have a travel advisory against traveling to the Gaza Strip and if these people are there they are there illegally. [This is untrue to enter the Gaza Strip one has to have a special authorisation stamp in one’s passport and all the Rafah activists have one.]

ISM: What if one of them gets killed? Will you hide behind your excuses then?

Ingrid Barzel: They’re not excuses. It’s State Department procedure endorsed by the Secretary of State.

ISM: So what you’re saying is you take no responsibility for the welfare of your nationals dong peace work in the Gaza Strip even if this means one of them gets killed because of your inaction?

Ingrid Barzel: We do not accept any responsibility for anyone who ignores our travel advisories and illegally enters the Gaza Strip.

ISM: What is your name?

[Pause]

Ingrid Barzel: I’d be happy to give you my name. It’s Ingrid Barzel.

ISM: Right, now I know how useless you are I’ll never phone you again. I also got in touch with the British consulate who said they’d phone me back but seem to have got in touch with the Gaza military headquarters and the Dutch consulate which was on holiday and had an answering machine operating.

Meanwhile the ISM activists had reached the building that the bulldozers were demolishing while the tank and the towers had fired warning shots at them every step of the way. Two of the activists then stepped into the partially destroyed building preventing the bulldozers from any further destruction while the tank fired its machine gun over their heads. The bulldozer then retreated but then the tank rolled forward to within three feet of them and an uneasy stalemate followed until the tanks backed away. Then the bulldozer came forward again as the other five activists rushed to join their companions in the building and the tank resumed firing its machine gun.

This time the bulldozer didn’t stop and five of the activists were able to scramble away while two others became trapped by the bulldozer in a corner of the building. When the bulldozer found its path blocked by rumble and backed off before resuming its advance the two were able to get away and stand on some barrels next to the building to photograph and film the destruction but the bulldozer then began ramming the barrels.

By this time the tank had begun firing its machine gun at some nearby houses which the activists knew were inhabited by families so the activists went to stand between the tank and the houses so that the tank was unable to continue terrorising the people in the houses although it resumed firing its machine gun at the feet of the activists.

At this point a member of the Palestinian resistance seems to have thrown a pipe bomb at one of the bulldozers. This development increased the risk to the activists because there was now a danger that they would be caught in a fire fight between the Israeli occupation forces and the Palestinian resistance so they retreated to a nearby house to watch and film the demolition. They were joined in the building by two old women who were the owners of the houses that were being destroyed who wept at the sight. When the bulldozers finished their demolitions of the block of six houses they withdrew with the tank.

When they had gone, the community who lived in the neighbourhood rushed out to the site of the wreckage to help its former residents salvage what they could from what had once been their homes. Among the items they retrieved were a bicycle, a water tank, and electrical cord and some planks of wood. After 20 minutes of searching the rubble the soldiers in the towers began firing at them, forcing them to abandon the wreckage. A man told one of the activists that this was the pattern of such salvage operations: the sentinels generally give the people about half an hour to retrieve what they can before firing on them.

Nablus
At 3.50 pm, just as the Rafah crisis was drawing to a close, 12 ISM activists based in Rafah were trying to deliver chocolates to the Abu Sanfar house in East Nablus which the Israeli army of occupation had been using as a firing position for forty days while detaining the three families resident in the house in two of its rooms.

When the activists approached the house they were confronted by Israeli soldiers commanded by Ariel Ze’ev who is known by Palestinians and ISM activists living in Nablus to be an insane sadist. Ariel and his men quickly became violent toward the activists and then, at 4.10 pm, seized Hussein Khalili, a Palestinian member of the ISM, and dragged him back to the house before firing warning shots at the activists, forcing them to fall back.

Immediately, the activists phoned the ISM Media Centre to alert me of their situation and I immediately called the Hamoked and Gush Shalom human rights organisations (the ISM’s allies in the struggle against the occupation) and Dennis Brenstein of Flashpoints Radio in the USA before drafting an email to our supporters informing them of what had happened. Through our combined efforts we were able to alert people around the world of Hussein’s plight and issue a joint appeal for them to phone the District Coordination Office of the Israeli Army in the Nablus area to demand Hussein’s immediate release.

Meanwhile, an Israeli member of the ISM and another activist returned to the Abu Sanfar house to negotiate Hussein’s release. When Ariel realised that one of the activists was an Israeli Jew he became furious and promised that he would make Hussein suffer more because of her and that he would arrest a Palestinian every time he saw her. He also said that he would hold him for two weeks if necessary “as revenge” for what she had done.

He then went into the house and took Hussein into he garden of the Abu Sanfar house where his men bound his hands behind his back forced him to kneel on the rocky ground in the rain while Ariel Ze’ev kicked him in the back.

Hussein was forced to kneel in the rain for what he estimates were forty five minutes. Eventually, Ariel went inside and a new group of soldiers released his hands and took him under shelter where they verbally insulted him and told him that the only good Arab was a dead Arab and that he was just a fucking peacemaker. They also told him that the Israeli activist was a whore for helping the Palestinians and that what she had done made her no longer Israeli and that she should be kicked out to the country. When Hussein protested that the activists had only come to the house to comfort the children the soldier said that they did not care and that they were in Nablus to kill all the Arabs.

“Even the women and children?” Hussein inquired.

“Yes!” they replied. “They throw petrol bombs and stones at us and threaten our lives so we will kill them too!”

While Hussein was being abused, the Nablus area DCO was being inundated with phone calls. We have no way of knowing exactly how many people phoned in to demand his release but ISM activists watching the Abu Sanfar house saw an Israeli lieutenant-colonel arrive in a hummer soon after the phone-in campaign started. He told the activists that he had made a decision that Hussein would be held in the house until 10 pm and then released.

Shortly thereafter I began receiving calls from people from around the world asking what more they could do. I said all that they could do was to forward the email to their everyone in their address book. One man told me that he had already emailed it to over 200 people. A woman asked me if she should contact the US consulate in Tel Aviv but I told her it would be futile since they no longer accept responsibility for their own nationals in the ISM.

At 8.50 pm Hussein Khalili was set free. He told his captors that he was afraid to go out into the streets in the dark because there were tanks and soldiers on the streets who might shoot him if they saw him but was told that all the soldiers in the area had been warned about him and that he would be safe. He then made his way across the road to a neighbouring house where he was given tea and water and used the phone to phone his companions in Nablus who came over to take him home.

As soon as I received word of his release I alerted his wife and then sent out an email to our supporters informing them of the success of our phone in campaign. Even so the Nablus area DCO continued to be flooded with phone calls until mid way through the following morning. Two supporters have informed me that as soon as she got through the officer on duty said: “Hussein Khalili has been released before they could even state the reason for their calls.

Conclusion
On February 14 2002 the ISM’s mission in Occupied Palestine came as close as it has ever come to collapse. Though its international activists have often encountered a level of hostility from their missions in Israel which are expected to protect them, this is the first time a consulate has stated explicitly that it will take no responsibility whatsoever for the welfare of its nationals performing peace work in the Occupied Territories.

Had Ariel Ze’ev made good on his threat to hold Hussein for two weeks and had the ISM proved powerless to protect one of our own from such arbitrary abuse, it would have proven to both the Palestinians and their occupiers that we are now an irrelevant movement.

Yet thanks to the efforts of our supporters throughout the world we were able to confound Ariel’s threats and secure Hussein’s release and safe passage in less than four hours. Though many activists made their calls to the DCO after Hussein’s release, they should not feel that their calls were wasted. This marks the first time the ISM and its allies have organised a phone-in campaign on such a large scale at such short notice and with such an effect.

Throughout Occupied Palestine but particularly in the Nablus area, ISM activists have come under increasing pressure from the Israeli occupying forces in an effort to intimidate them into ineffectiveness through threats and low-level violence. We believe that this is part of an Israeli plan to step up its campaign of terror against the people of Palestine once the US commences its invasion of Iraq.

The remarkable effectiveness of the campaign to free Hussein Khalili on Friday has demonstrated to the architects of this terror that the ISM can no longer be considered as only a handful of brave activists scattered throughout the Occupied Territories but has now matured into a truly global movement capable of mobilising a very large number of people around the world in defence of Palestinian human rights.

Thank-you to everyone who participated in the phone in. Thank-you for your messages of support. And thank-you for forwarding the emails to your friends. We’ve still got a long way to go before Palestine becomes a free country but, because of your efforts, ISM activists working in places like Rafah and Nablus can continue their work in the knowledge that they are not alone, even if their governments have now renounced their responsibility to protect them.

One Hundred Rounds of Warning Shots and a Very Long Walk

by Carla
Read Carla’s first journal from Mawasi here.

The next day we did accompany Palestinians down the road that used to lead into Mawasi (that now stops at a checkpoint guarding the new settlements) carrying medical supplies. At least one hundred rounds of warning shots hit the ground around us as we slowly made our way forward. A very long walk of only a quarter mile. One reporter, a Palestinian, was shot in the head (he was taken to the hospital and survived as the wound was superficial), but the group decided to continue forward. The task of those of us who were internationals was to protect the Palestinians (the reporter had been taking pictures to the side – very exposed). We walked in front and on the outer edge of their group, with them in the center, using the privilege of our international status (we hoped) to shield them. I had moved to the back of the group on the same side as the guntower in order to shield the women and I have not ever paid so much attention to absolutely every step I took. I was hearing sharp cracks of bullets on the ground next to me. A lot of them. Sprays of dirt kicked up by the bullets hit my cheeks. Each step became a shear act of will. The Palestinian women next to me must have been living the same struggle, but they were here to try to go home after two years, and I was here to accompany them as far as they were willing to go.

Carrying a cardboard box of medical supplies (everyone else had see-through plastic bags) I was acutely aware of how they would have the excuse of saying they couldn’t see what was in the box –”there could have been a bomb”– if I were to be hit. I opened the top, carrying it at an angle to demonstrate there was nothing to hide. Palestinians from Mawasi had not walked this road in two years without being shot at. This obviously was no different, however we made it close enough to the guntower to be able to negotiate with the soldiers, closer than anyone had done previously. Encouraged by the negotiations, we took a few more steps forward, eliciting more bullets, this time silent bullets. That was truly eerie – the only sign we had that we were still being fired on was seeing (and feeling) dirt kicked up by the impact of the bullets. Unheard bullets were more terrifying – and luckily only a few were fired – those who had more experience with soldiers in Gaza announced that it was time to retreat, as the use of silent bullets meant serious business. We did not make it past the checkpoint that day, but two days later a group of Palestinians and internationals did go those last few feet to the checkpoint and negotiated getting the medical supplies into Mawasi. A small victory.

Amazing to me was how quickly I got used to gunfire. The first day I was in Rafah I went with Molly to see the family she had been staying with. Their home had been demolished that morning and the family was gathering what it could salvage. We had to run for cover as a tank fired on what was left of the house. By the time I went to the Mawasi checkpoint I had been staying in Gaza in Palestinian homes for a week. Every day and almost every night I experienced shooting from the tanks that rolled by the edge of town, into the neighborhoods where the houses were located. Gunfire was (is) a daily reality on the southern perimeter of town bordering Egypt. Here Israel has plans for a “security” wall designed to keep Palestinians from leaving Gaza. The goal was (is) to wear down the resolve of families to stay in their homes that are on the periphery of town near the future wall.

Neighborhoods are repeatedly assaulted by gunfire from tanks until families leave. Sometimes a tank will target a house with mortar fire, as was the inhabited house next to where my friend Molly was staying. (Let me make it clear these are unarmed civilians, families, non-combatants). Once homes are abandoned, Israeli soldiers will first dynamite, then bulldoze the houses, and begin to assault the homes of families that are newly exposed, homes that had laid behind the now demolished ones. Slowly they are eating away at the edges of Rafah.

That is all I have to share for now, except to add that my experience of Palestinians is of a people to whom family and land mean everything. I will hold in my heart forever the smiles, the eyes full of kindness, the humor, and the generosity of each person who has contributed to my first memories of Palestine.

In Solidarity, with Love,
Carla

God Bless Our Home

A Calm Day in Gaza
by Ed Mast

We sit on the floor of a pleasantly-colored cinderblock apartment, one of a row of buildings painted in bright Santa Fe colors, in Rafah near the south end of the Gaza Strip. There are rugs on the floor and the ubiquitous pads that serve as beds by night and seats for guests by day. The woman of the house has invited us into her home and is serving us tea. This is daytime, there are no gunshots, and children play and follow us without fear.

These homes are a little squeezed together, with no space between or around, but otherwise one might imagine that the inhabitants have little to complain about. This is, however, the woman’s third home. She came here two months ago, when her other home was demolished, along with 96 others, because the Israeli settlement near Rafah wanted to expand. Everyone in these houses was driven out at the same time. They were awakened in the night, without warning, by bulldozers. This woman has been driven out of two other homes previously: in 1973, and in 1990, during the first Intifada. She does not at first mention the earlier home of her family, in Ashdod inside what is now Israel, from which her family was expelled in 1948.

On her wall is a clock with needlepoint stitching below it saying “God Bless Our Home.”

Outside we are cautioned not to walk too near the corner of the street. By night, gunfire from settlers and soldiers is common there, and it sometimes happens by day. We walk to an SOS orphanage, and see the pockmarks of rifle and tank shells in the walls.

We go to the southeast and southwest corners of Rafah. On the one corner is the border with the Israeli settlement which has been expanding and confiscating land. I take a few steps to look closer, and am again warned to step back. They point out a distant tower from which soldiers customarily shoot. Again, it’s daytime, and mostly the shooting happens at night.

On the other corner of Rafah, a high opaque metal wall is being built, to seal off the border with Egypt. The purpose of the wall is apparently to prevent the smuggling of weapons across the border, so Palestinians are to be walled in as well as out. “Rafah is a prison” one says to me. A swath of homes several miles long and maybe 100 yards wide must be demolished on the Gaza side of this wall, to leave a no-man’s-land border zone. We walk through what are labelled Block D and Block G and Block O, areas where these demolitions have taken place. They look like bombsites. This is a refugee camp, so the buildings are mostly made of concrete blocks, and easily pushed over. The sides of buildings look like sponges or coral reefs, so covered with bullet and missile holes. We pick our way through a landscape of rubble to see this. Several houses with whole sides shorn away, and one house tilted halfway to the ground, crumbling slowly before our eyes as if there had been an earthquake. A three-story house that is mostly still standing, battered with gaping holes and pockmarks, turns out to be the house where our friend Molly and the children of her host family were awakened in the night by Israeli gunfire penetrating the walls. (People ask us if we know “Maaaly?”) The family doesn’t live there anymore. No one lives in these crushed homes.

“This is our life” people tell us.

I climb up on one pile of rubble to look at the wall. People call to me: Get down! I hear tanktreads over near the wall behind some of the rubble. Even in the daytime they must stay out of the army’s sight.

We leave the area without incident to travel with our friends back to Gaza City, in the north of the Gaza Strip. Our friends came to Rafah that day to deliver a workshop on storytelling techniques for kindergarten teachers. We were able to come to Khan Younis and Rafah without any trouble in the morning, but in the afternoon the Khan Younis checkpoint is closed. 500 people are already waiting when we arrive at about 3:00. Linda and I walk up to the front and talk to the soldiers. We are able to negotiate the passing of one ambulance, but nothing else.

At about 8:30 that night the checkpoint opens and our friends, the early child education specialists, are able to drive us the 15 miles to their home in Gaza City. The night before, they got home at midnight. They are supposed to deliver workshops in Khan Younis and Rafah the rest of this week. This is the first income they’ve had in some months

Letter from Mawasi

from Carla

Mawasi is a village on the coast side of Rafah (in the Gaza Strip) that is surrounded by settlements and guarded by a checkpoint that has not allowed a Palestinian through in 2 years. The villagers survive on whatever they themselves grow. No food or medicine has been allowed though for these 2 years. People who leave have not been allowed back. The action that is happening tomorrow has beem organized by Palestinians who are going to try & get back to their homes. They estimate that 300 will gather to return. There are 6 internationals here with the International Solidarity Movement that have been asked by the Palestinians to accompany them past the checkpoint. The Palestinians are very excited about doing this~

Yesterday a group of us went up to a tank to communicate that we have been getting shot at in homes & our countries would be very upset (so maybe we lied) if any one were to be hurt. I was so outraged after the experience. To quote Barbara Kingsolver, I “have the privelege of a safe life”, even here. I can walk up to the tank and know they would not directly shoot me (well, it did shoot over our heads and at our feet). However, any Palestinian is fair game. The soldiers shoot into occupied houses, down alleys and streets. They just blanket an area with bullets. Many civilians are killed, children in classrooms, children playing outside of their houses, women cooking dinner. . .all unarmed, all innocent of doing anything other than existing. How th! is helps Israeli securuty baffels me.

Few of these people have ever seen a soldier, much less spoken to one – Gaza is so different from what I have heard of the West Bank where soldiers and civilian Palestinians see each other face to face regularly. Here the soldiers are up in guard towers at checkpoints or inside of tanks, APC’s & bulldozers. They just shoot. There’s no talking, no negotiating. Yesterday was not a planned action we were just going to look at the wall being built to better keep Palestinians in and the tank started firing above our heads. We then started to walk towards it to speak with the soldiers that we are indeed here to stay. (ISM has not had a presence in Gaza until this summer, unlike the West Bank where there have been ISM involvement for 2 years). The group of Palestinians that hung behind had never been that close to a tank. One young man who is one of our escorts told me he had never seen the face of an Israeli until then. They are always too far away. (Gaza is very traditional, the women with the ISM scarve ourselves, and all of us move around the city with Palestinians accompanying us).

I’ve been calling media in Jerusalem to try and get coverage of tomorrow. This has never been done before – families trying to get back to their village walking past a checkpoint. They would just get shot. The determination, the strength of these people is humbling. After all they live through, all their losses, they laugh and joke and love their children. The young man who accompanied me and Molly to see the demolished house of the family she had been with told me, when he saw me in tears as we walked away, that this is why they laugh so much–a person simply cannot contain that much grief forever – they see no future different than what they are experiencing right now. And they go on, setting the latest atrocity behind them. Amazing people, no whining, no complaints, but this steady determined day by day perseverance.

Yours (and theirs),
Carla

Bullets Through the Wall in Gaza

by Molly

Hello guys, I’m so sorry for the long time with no info. I cant believe how much has happenned in the what, 7 days since I last wrote? I’m back in jerusalem now and I thought a lot of you wouldn’t want to hear about my week until I was safely here in the Old City. 🙂

On, the 22 or 23 – I cant remember – me and Firyal and three of her kids- Rula, Ihab and Mohammed, were sitting in the living room of their house. I was reading and they were sitting on the ground doing homework. We heard shots that were pretty close and they then sounded like they were hitting the building, so all of us got down. Then shots must have come through the cement block kitchen wall. We were all screaming and Firyal and I tried to get on top of the kids and I turned off the gas heater and there was just concrete flying thorough the air and I thought for sure it wasnt just bullets but some sort of larger explosion. We had to run down the stairs that are unprotected from the tank fire to get to safety. We huddled and giggled and ate oranges downstairs in their grandmothers house. I was shaking and so was Firyal.

Finally, tanks still sitting outside, we went back upstairs (just Firyal and Mustafa and me). Me and Firyal wanted to sleep somewhere else but Mustafa said no we were staying. We talked about why they stayed and they just dont have enough money to move – expensive rent in Rafah is 100 dollars a month and knowing how much I spend and how easy it would be to give them 100 dollars a month killed me, becuase I knew I couldnt do it.

Mustafa went into the bedroom and Firyal went in and found him crying. She was horrified. It turns out it was just bullets, 4 actually, and there was one that would have found my head had I been sitting where I was seconds before the bullet came through. The shots were also really low whereas before they had been relatively high – you get down no problem – not so this time. This random shooting into occupied houses happens all day and all night in most of the neighborhoods in Rafah and there’s nothing anyone there can do about it. It’s how most of the people (kids) died when I was there. These arent homes of criminals or ‘terrorists’ they are just families who happen to live near this stupid wall.

Anyway, the next day we went out to let the army know we were there, we went with big signs saying “The World Is Watching” and we found some towers, tanks and bulldozers. We were really close to my house and the whole family was up in the top floor waving at us like we were their heroes or something. It was amazing to me that there in Rafah no one pays attention. There’s no media, there’s no international presence, there’s no nothing and the army knows it and the people know it. So many of them were happy that we were just there, even if we couldn’t stop anything or change anything.

Later that day I got a call from Mustafa. I couldnt understand him so I gave the phone to someone who could, and he said Mustafa just wanted to say hi. A few hours later Ahmed (Mustafas cousin) called. I gave the phone to someone and they told me that the home I had been staying in had been demolished. I wanted to go to them, but i couldn’t becuase it was too dangerous. I should have just gone, but in Rafah we ALWAYS have to have an escort, especially women and I knew they would freak out if I just ran over. So I couldn’t eat and I had bad dreams all night about what was happening and not being able to be with them.

Apparently at two in the afternoon a bulldozer just came, no warning, no nothing and just knocked one of the walls down of this four story building where Firyal was cooking dinner and the kids were studying. They were hysterical. They ran away and there was massive firing from the tanks as they all ran out of the building. My friend Hendrick who had been staying next door spent the night there and apparently it was like hell. There were huge explosions, the army turned off the electricity and sent in troops, the troops set up dynamite and an Apache helicopter was in the air watching everything. They all left, again under massive fire from the now 12 tanks.

We went the next day and it was awful. We got shot at again and I didnt really want to take pictures becuase I felt so sick and was crying so hard. This was home to 6 families. The day before, one of the sisters had shown me this huge closet full of beautiful clothes she had made. Now it was all gone. This place that Mustafa and his brothers and cousins had built with their own hands. This family had turned into my family (just the night before Mustafa said that he was just as worried about me after the shooting as he had been about his family and that before there were 6 people in his family and now there were 7) and their heartbreak was mine, only mine was so so so so small in comparison. All the men were in the corner of this ruined home crying, holding each other and the women were outside just sort of staring.

I’m sorry this is so long. I’m getting tired of writing and I’m sure if any of you have read this far, you’re tired of reading too :). The story has something of a happy ending: they found a new house, it’s smaller and not as nice, but it’s a home which is more than many of these families end up with. Even so, Mustafa cried again today. I got to help them move in and spend the first couple of nights with them again, which helped me anyway :). Mustafa was very sad to see me go today, but I think pretty excited to have his wife and bed back :).

Now I’m here in Jerusalem and I thought I’d be happy to be free, free from constant watching and escorting and staring and coffee :), but I just feel really really lonely. I miss them so much, and all the people I met that were so sweet and open and wonderful. And I hate that this happens every day there, every day. That same day there were 12 houses demolished, which equates to like maybe 30-40 families without a home. And there’s no one to help them or to stop this and I hate it and it’s wrong and I paid for it and you guys paid for it. They can’t leave, no one in Gaza can leave, it’s a huge prison and they are stuck there. They dream to see Jerusalem, tall buildings, anything not Rafah. How is this possible? How can people do this and others not try to stop it? And how can we even try to stop it?

Anyway, I’ll see you all soon and I’m happy for that.