Mondoweiss correspondent Susan Johnson of Doylestown, Pa., has been stuck in Cairo, trying to get into Gaza, where two organizations have requested her services. Her latest report.
Here I sit in my cheap little Cairo hotel…people coming and going, some more interesting than others….a mother in her sixties with two adult sons she constantly berates…barges into their rooms without knocking…I guess they should be happy they aren’t all in the same room with her.. Lots of backpackers stopping in for a shower and the sights in Cairo……A group of three stands out…two gals and a guy from Australia …divers….on a nine month jaunt around the world……. a 56 year old woman from Holland testing out a relationship with a man from Egypt…..she met him on the internet……..a very beautiful woman in her thirties…..five inch heels…tight jeans…leaves the hotel around 11PM, returns around 3AM…..she sleeps late into the afternoon
I have a confession to make. I brought with me four cartons of Marlboro and a bottle of Black Label requested for someone in Gaza. I know; Susan, Susan, Susan you should have offered them at the Rafa border crossing. But when I was there I thought I’d get in on my next try and need them for the friend in Gaza, so I hung on to them. When it was becoming clear I was going nowhere……I started giving them away to staff, guests, the police men out front…..they began hailing cabs for me..
The most memorable guests? One evening as I was passing out packs of cigarettes I noticed a new guest working on the computer……handsome, Middle Eastern looking… he was smoking so I went over and put two packs of Marlboro next to his ash tray. It took a bit of explaining before he’d believe they were free and take them.
We began chatting and I asked where he was from……..I was born in Sweden, I’m Palestinian, Gaza. …I tell him I was trying to go to Gaza. I proceeded to begin my Gaza story….my visit to Gaza last year….wanting to return….my time in Egypt… being turned away at the border…being turned down again….. going back and forth with the embassies…..how tired and disappointed I am….how stupid the embassies are….why not let me in?……..the entire saga.
He says:
..I know about the border…..I am trying to get my wife out of Gaza….this is the third time….my parents are with me….the first time we were here two months…only one month the second time…..my wife, we love each other …just want to be together…..we should be together…..we are trying again….she should be here on Saturday…..we are waiting…….and the tears that had welled up in my eyes about “my Gaza” began to trickle down my face…for his Gaza, his wife he can’t see. He tells me it’s been expensive back and forth with the Embassies…Sweden, Egypt. (I don’t ask about Israel’s involvement…the US)……My parents are here…..they would like talking with you…they are here in the hotel…. I tell him I’d like to meet his parents and how I hope his wife joins him on Saturday….they will be in my thoughts. How could they not stay in my thoughts? How?….Gaza, Palestine…others are going through so much more. than me…..
I feel ashamed…..how can I be so self consumed with my story….
The next day I’m taken to visit his parents in their room….I believe the father is about my age, the mother a bit younger…….They are as excited to meet me as I am to meet them……they are surprised I was in Gaza…..My trying to return is a surprise…. Magically coffee and cookies appear….Palestinian cookies, made in Sweden, brought to Egypt. … Palestinian hospitality is amazing….even here in my little hotel. They seem pleased that I know about the I/P situation…The father says it’s nice someone knows… people don’t know….My god, they are thanking me for knowing about the situation…..
No, no, no you do not need to thank me….there are Jewish groups in the US, Israel, other countries who disagree with what Israel is doing to the Palestinians….that’s good…..we don’t hate the Jews…Jews, we have no problem….The problem is Zionists, Israel…we have no problem with Jews….Zionists, always, even before….
I mention how hard many Jews work to stop what is happening to Palestinians….how I wish more people knew…I do what I can…..others try…more are trying……I have a slide presentation… (Susan don’t mention that again….the pictures are too upsetting they know it’s horrible they don’t need your pictures)
They ask about Gaza after the bombardment….I begin telling them what I saw..and heard….Their distress is visible….I steer away from details……They moved to Sweden….. .hoping for safety…returning to Gaza….now not allowed to return to Gaza….may not visit……have to stay so many klms from the border”…..Gaza is our home… we want to return….go home…..they will not allow us….It is our home always….we can not go there… (I try not to let the tears run down my face). They are trying not to let their tears flow…. They talk of life in Sweden…..things aren’t so good now……people, some people, don’t like Palestinians, Muslims……it wasn’t like this before…..but where can we go….and the boy, our son, and his wife….they sigh, shake their heads….we all go to Sweden…..what else to do?
I begin to talking about “A Child’s View from Gaza” the art exhibit featuring drawings created by children in Gaza…Most are about “Operation Cast Lead”….many of the drawings are beautiful….the subject is so horrible….Children should not have to live through such…..
The father has been drawn somewhere else……he looks entirely different, sad, fearful…He says:
Children, children……I was a child…..when I was a child….a boy of six… they came…they came killing…and fire, fire was everywhere……everything was burning…. we ran to get away from the burning…even the ground was burning……I ran…a boy of only six……. my feet look….see?… I was burned here and here and here….he shows me the bottom of his foot…I was running, my parents were running….I was lost……I could not find them…a boy of six…..I couldn’t find my parents….for six weeks. I wonder, six weeks? Six weeks…..I am a little boy on my own… with his hand he shows me how tall he was….not six years old…..on the street…no bath….no clothes…..just what when I ran… …no one taking care of me…a little boy of six….
His eyes are filled with tears, he is in such pain remembering…..I dream…even today….a grown man…..I dream…. I ask how he found his parents……My father found a man with a very strong voice…..my father went with the man…..he called and called my name…they went from house to house…..then they found me. ….I realize I had not looked at his wife and son….oh god he is in such pain…
After a few moments he speaks again….they came again….I was older…. was big for my age….they shot men and boys….short pants…I wore short pants…..I looked younger not so big for my age…..they took men and boys…boys over 15……they took them….. shot them….I was lucky….I wore short pants because I was big for my age….lucky…
The boy..my son….just wants to be with his wife…it’s very, very hard…..we have tried… perhaps this time…we are hopeful…..have more cookies….more coffee….I must return to my room…thank you for talking with me….telling me…I am so very, very sorry……..It will be better…my son’s wife will come…we will go to Sweden…it will be better
We want to go home…to Gaza….Gaza is our home….my father’s home….my grandfather’s home….hundreds of years it is our home….and we can not go there….they took more land….recently…more land to keep them safe
I have noticed the wife bustling in the back ground…..Here please take these….she hands me a plate of cookies and three apples….from Sweden…Palestinian….my mother made them….she is diabetic…no sugar….the son holds up the artificial sweetener……my mother loves to bake….I mumble something about how I also love to bake.
They walk me to the door….I thank them for the cookies, the apple and for visiting with me…..Thank you, thank you….you are a good woman…you understand….we will bring the son’s wife….she will want to meet you…
They watch me walk down the hall….I fall on my bed…sobbing, sobbing for these wonderful people…..how can this be? WHY? These wonderful people from Gaza….their lives so full of heartache…..they want to go home….
My trip to Gaza…I have been so sad, so disappointed……….Those people have had horrific experiences through out their lives….so very much….Why? ………I realize how very insignificant I am..
