For those that didn’t read Carla’s earlier message, please see:http://groups.yahoo.com/group/palsolidarity/message/420
The next day we did accompany Palestinians down theroad that used to lead into Mawasi (that now stops ata checkpoint guarding the new settlements) carryingmedical supplies. At least one hundred rounds ofwarning shots hit the ground around us as we slowlymade our way forward. A very long walk of only aquarter mile. One reporter, a Palestinian, was shotin the head (he was taken to the hospital and survivedas the wound was superficial), but the group decidedto continue forward. The task of those of us who wereinternationals was to protect the Palestinians (thereporter had been taking pictures to the side–veryexposed). We walked in front and on the outer edge oftheir group, with them in the center, using theprivilege of our international status (we hoped) toshield them. I had moved to the back of the group onthe same side as the guntower in order to shield thewomen and I have not ever paid so much attention toabsolutely every step I took. I was hearing sharpcracks of bullets on the ground next to me. A lot ofthem. Sprays of dirt kicked up by the bullets hit mycheeks. Each step became a shear act of will. The
Palestinian women next to me must have been living thesame struggle, but they were here to try to go homeafter two years, and I was here to accompany them asfar as they were willing to go. Carrying a cardboardbox of medical supplies (everyone else had see-throughplastic bags) I was acutely aware of how they wouldhave the excuse of saying they couldn’t see what wasin the box–there could have been a bomb–if I were tobe hit. I opened the top, carrying it at an angleto demonstrate there was nothing to hide.
Palestinians from Mawasi had not walked this road intwo years without being shot at. This obviously wasno different, however, we made it close enough to theguntower to be able to negotiate with the soldiers,closer than anyone had done previously. Encouraged bythe 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 wewere still being fired on was seeing (and feeling)dirt kicked up by the impact of the bullets. Unheardbullets were more terrifying–and luckily only a fewwere fired–those who had more experience withsoldiers in Gaza announced that it was timeto retreat, as the use of silent bullets meant seriousbusiness. We did not make it past the checkpoint thatday, but two days later a group of Palestinians andinternationals did go those last few feet to thecheckpoint and negotiated getting the medical suppliesinto 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 seethe family she had been staying with. Their home hadbeen demolished that morning and the family wasgathering what it could salvage. We had to run forcover as a tank fired on what was left of the house.By the time I went to the Mawasi checkpoint I had beenstaying in Gaza in Palestinian homes for aweek. Every day and almost every night I experiencedshooting from the tanks that rolled by the edge oftown, into the neighborhoods where the houses werelocated. Gunfire was (is) a daily reality on thesouthern perimeter of town bordering Egypt. HereIsrael has plans for a ” security ” wall designed tokeep Palestinians from leaving Gaza. The goal was(is) to wear down the resolve of families to stayin their homes that are on the periphery of townnear the future wall. Neighborhoods are repeatedlyassaulted 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 friendMolly was staying. (Let me make it clear these areunarmed civilians, families, non-combatants). Oncehomes are abandoned, Israeli soldiers will firstdynamite, then bulldoze the houses, and begin toassault the homes of families that are newly exposed,homes that had laid behind the now demolishedones. Slowly they are eating away at the edges ofRafah.
That is all I have to share for now, except to addthat my experience of Palestinians is of a people towhom family and land mean everything. I will hold inmy heart forever the smiles, the eyes full ofkindness, the humor, and the generosity of each personwho has contributed to my first memories of Palestine.
In Solidarity, with Love~
Carla