Tuesday, January 04, 2011

Gaza, Two Years Ago

Two years ago Israel was attacking the tiny crowded Palestinian enclave of Gaza in its obscenely named "Operation Cast Lead." Hundreds and hundreds of civilians were murdered by the Israelis, including many many children.

Following is a blogpost from Rawan Yaghi, a 17-year-old who lives and blogs in Gaza. Her blog "I Am" is a truly remarkable testament of the human spirit. Here are her words about experiencing the Israeli attack:

I didn't even know if my eyes were open. After a big mess everything seemed so calm I could sense the dust covering my face, the only part I could feel. I could feel my breath hitting one of the bricks of my room's floor. Air found its way through everything surrounding my body. Silence was all I could hear. My arms trapped somewhere under the wooden edges of my bed, my toes, my legs, my hair, they all were jailed and penalized not to move. I was afraid. I waited and waited trying to recall all the joyful events in my life, as my mother once advised me to do so when I'm afraid, though they were few: My elder brother's big wedding, my grandmother coming from Hajj and bringing me a doll singing, the last Eid when I got my biggest Edeyya ever, my mother bringing us home a new baby after me _I wonder if that was a happy event for me, but I could certainly see the joy my parents had looking at that little thing. My breath firmly came back to my face touching it as to comfort me and tell me that everything will be ok. A minute later I started crying, though. And only then I realized that my eyes were closed, for I could feel my wet eyelashes. It did not matter; opening them and closing them were thoroughly the same. I cried so much that my tears mixed with the dust on my face felt like mud at the edges of my face. I must have been bleeding, since a killing pain started growing in my chest with the growing of my weeping. I tried to move in order to stop the pain. Only one muscle, I found out that something very sharp, extremely strong, calmly was standing through my skin. I stopped crying. I waited. I bled.

(Photo from AP/NYT; many more voices remembering the Israeli attack on Gaza two years ago can be found at Mondoweiss, where I first read the above piece.)


  1. If the Palestinians would stop attacking Isreal through terrorist organizations, than the problem would be solved. Or... if one of the other Arab countries professing to care about the Palestinians would give them a piece of land to live on, then they would not be used as pawns. Simple enough solution.