My Gaza ^_^
Being locked in your room, waiting on an empty stomach the moment the guests would be evacuating your house so you could go to the kitchen to ease the killing hunger, you start hearing some rumors that the honorable guests are leaving in a moment. The thing is that you can’t get out because you pretend, by hiding in your bloody room, that you aren’t home or you are asleep. The reason is that you don’t wanna waste your precious time welcoming the guests, talking to them and spending the whole period of this visit playing the waitress’s role in serving all kinds of beverages, fruits and desserts. What worsens the situation is all the food utensils are all used up and you end up doing the “washing-up” all alone. All alone! So you prefer being the meanest person ever by pretending that you have something more important you need to do to being the hospitable person who enjoys receiving guests at anytime. Being in a jail, starving to death is thousands times better than “washing-up” the dishes. Jeez! You will be free in a moment.
C’mon, visitors! Yes! They are now to stand up. mmm now you, carefully, open your door, take a peek out to see which spot they are now on. Are they approaching the door? Your ears follow each and every single motion and sound, longing to hear nothing but the sound of the door while being opened and closed as quick as lightening so you can get outta room and gain your freedom back. Guess what? They are still talking. What the heck! The instant they end up a topic, they just open up another topic. Gazan guests are professionally active talkers Mash’Allah. “Mum please hasten their departure by not sharing them back” in your mind you just say this. Now relief! They are approaching the end. Thank God! OoOoOps! The door?! The door’s stories! What’s wrong with the door? Why the hell are they sticking to this damn door? Hey, visitors! You are overstaying your welcome. Wasn’t the six-hour-visit enough to discuss these urgent issues? You are dying. So long as your kitchen has this stupid American style in which the kitchen and the living room flow from one to the other, you can’t reach the kitchen. Your sister, too, is not helping at all because you left her all alone doing the mission so if you begged her to bring you something to eat, she would say “go do it yourself and don’t be mean… do’y think y’re escaping the washing-up by hiding in the room and not participating in these bloody rituals.” Then –believe me- don’t risk asking your dear sister while she is angry.
Yes! Getting back to the door, I guess there is something attractive in the door. You just wonder “does the door inspire them to tell stories?” or “do the stories have special flavor at the door?” it doesn’t matter; still the door is the issue. I wish I could remove this door so I could make it easy for the guests to find their way out without being stuck at the door. If your visitors trigger interesting stories while making their exit and that they would spend a considerable period of time talking at the door, then smile you are in Gaza.
Your mum wakes up very early to prepare a very yummy meal for today’s lunch. Being as busy as a bee, she would spend many hours at the kitchen cooking, cooking and cooking. (actually dunno what else she does while cooking but all what I know that she is so busy to the extent that she doesn’t have time to answer anyone back; she just ignores everything while being in the kitchen because she wants to focus on what she is doing, working very hard to finish everything before everyone is home. The moment she puts what she has been preparing for hours on the table, only 10 minutes or even less and you will find nothing left in the dishes. Everything is being devoured in a blink of an eye. Poor mums! You even forget to thank your mother for such a delicious meal that takes hours to be hardly prepared and a very few minutes to be rapidly eaten up. If this happens at your home, then smile you have a Gazan family.
It’s now 6:00 a.m. Jesus! You’d better get moving; it is gonna be off at 3:00 p.m. Making some toast for your breakfast. Finish your stuff very quickly. Print out the needed papers. Do the ironing. Recharge your batteries. Electrify your laptop. Be done with the laundry. Hoooooray! Go on! Your mum wakes up early to bake a delicious cake or making some pastries because it is gonna go out at 3:00. She already sets up a plan that she should be done with all the chores at 2:30 just in case the power might be off earlier than its appointed time. Everyone is watching the clock. The end has come when you cease running around the clock. It is now 3:00. You wait the electricity to get off. C’mon! Get off, you bloody power! Guess what? It is 4:00 now! Everyone is wondering why it hasn’t been off till now? It was supposed to be off…!! Well, smile you are deceived. Today, because you have done all your work before the power goes out, unfortunately, the power doesn’t go out. But if you haven’t done anything, the power will, certainly and definitely, get off. You feel very disappointed. You start regretting skipping watching your favorite episode because you have a paper more important. Just smile! Time is not yours in Gaza. Your mum starts cursing the one who is in charge of electricity because she had to wake up early enough to do all the chores. She could have slept more if only had she known that power wouldn’t be off today. Smile! this is Gaza. Gaza never fails you when it comes to disappointment.
Oh! How lucky I am. Am I going to meet the congressman? “Yes!” your friend replies in a very excited tone. You are called for a meeting to prepare for such an important meeting. You feel extremely excited and happy. You prepare yourself, your questions, your camera, and everything-needed for such a mission.
You go to the appointed place with your friends, waiting there hours and hours. Then a call comes, telling you that sorry! The congressman couldn’t make it into Gaza because Israel has denied his access to this poor territory. After reaching this highest point of excitement, you now reach this lowest point of disappointment. This is Gaza! You get excited then the very next moment you get disappointed. Beware! “Excitement is not healthy in Gaza” my friend and I came to such a conclusion after what we have been thru’. In Gaza, don’t get excited; otherwise, you would, one day, die of heart attack because of having these two extremist feelings simultaneously: excitement and disappointment.
How poor the English-majoring student is! You will be in a quagmire of trouble, the moment you decide to join the English department. No matter how hard you try to convince your family that you are still a freshman and you barely speak two correct sentences in English, you have no excuse. Whatever written in English you are supposed to read and translate; otherwise, you are a complete failure. Your grandma comes to you with an English-written medical prescription to translate what is mentioned. You, simply, tell her that you are studying “English-literature” not “English-medicine”. She would say “but it is English, dear!” Then you start explaining that even if it was written in Arabic, you wouldn’t be able to help her since you are not a medical expert. In vain! You are a loser –listen! Don’t argue- because you are. Well, a neighbor of yours asks your dad that his son has a paper needed to be translated for his engineering project and your dad, proudly, says that his daughter is a good translator while in fact you are still a sophomore and even you haven’t taken any translation courses yet. Then your dad asks you to do the mission for him and to (as it is said literally in Arabic) “whiten his face”. You tell him, using other excuses, that you are not yet introduced to how one should write a paper or you are not an engineer just to avoid telling him that simply you can’t because you are not yet good at English. But fair enough! The result is the same! Didn’t I tell you a few lines earlier that you are a loser? Your dad, sadly, tells you “you always disappoint me; why the hell did you choose English in the first place if you can’t benefit others and yourself from it”. If you experience such an incident, smile, you have a wonderfully Gazan father.
God! All over the world, only the crowing sounds of roosters are supposed to declare the end of darkness and greet the coming dawn. In Gaza, the case is different. You are awakened by the chant of street peddlers calling out to sell their wares “b6eeee5!/watermelons or clooooor!/chlorine”. You just wonder “who the hell is gonna eat watermelons in this early morning?” or who on earth runs out of Clorox at this very early hour and needs urgently to do the dish-washing? If your alarm clock was the lovingly discordant sounds of these cute peddlers, smile cuz certainly you are in Gaza.
In Gaza, everyone knows more than everyone else. Everyone says that if only had he been in charge of this country, he would have ended the facing problems, solved the economic crisis, lifted the unfair siege, reconciled the irreconcilable, saved Al-Aqsa mosque, liberated Palestine and terminated our long-suffering. In Gaza, Everyone complains about everyone. Everyone blames everyone. Everyone curses everyone. Everyone philosophizes over everyone. Everyone accuses everyone. Everyone criticizes everyone. Everyone comments on everyone. Smile you are a Gazan one.