Scenes from Gaza’s seashore, despite the many areas of contaminated water –tainted by raw sewage being pumped into the sea, no other option for treating the waste, thanks to the siege and Israeli attacks on sanitation stations.
On one occasion I went to the northern coast with friends from Ezbet Abed Rabbo. I hadn’t seen them truly happy since before the war on Gaza. During the attacks, the mother of my friends was killed as she walked on the street, going out to buy bread. Whenever I’ve seen these friends since, they’ve been plagued with a sorrow that had diminished little over 6 months. A day at the beach brought the extended family –sons and daughters and their children, as well as the lone elderly father –together in an environment free from the regular reminders of her killing and their trauma.
On my second beach visit, I went with friends, all colleagues and all daily frustrated by the situation in Gaza these days. Most days when I see them, they complain of feeling suffocated, longing to see other countries, longing to further their studies outside Gaza.
Today, instead of the rented bus that brought my family friends to the beach, we took two cars, had music high, and spent the afternoon swimming and playing volleyball. The change did us good, the sea was splendid, and we all tried to temporarily not think about reality: that Gaza is still under siege and that nothing has nor will change until the siege ends and borders open.
*pit heated with burned orange tree wood. As many as 20 chickens are cooked at the same time in this pit.