It’s normally easy to get to Al Jundi when I have to run errands or when like so many others I just want to sit and enjoy the park, sip tea and be with the people, but it took a few minutes longer than usual to get there. There are fewer cabs on the streets. I don’t blame them….. It is dangerous out there right now. The drones are overhead twenty four seven. That wretched noise covers the sound of the tide coming in, and the local people have all but abandoned the sea while they hover overhead. Even the children know that these mechanical vultures can maim and kill. And like the beaches this week, the street was mostly deserted today save for boys in search of water and the few vendors who opened their shops hoping for customers (only to sit for several hours without one). I did get a cab and a driver who reminded me in Arabic to look out for the bombs. Even on very hot afternoons, Al Jundi is filled with people – mothers sitting with mothers in the shade – children kicking soccer balls – young men playing cards – old men swapping tales – teen boys walking arm and arm as is the custom here in Gaza. I normally wave to the police that guard the entrance to the park, but today they were not there. My friends are easy targets for the vultures. Normally they might shake hands or help me with a cab – welcome me as they do over and over again… laugh a little over my Arabic. But the park was virtually empty today, and my friends were not to be found . It was eerily quiet, except maybe for a half dozen boys who were sharing rides on a scooter, oblivious to the dangers that were lurking above them. Ive told you before. I hate the drones. The boys who serve tea and Nescafe from big silver pots were absent today…. And so were the boys that sell gum, and chips and cigarettes. Sometimes these boys annoy – but today I missed them…. I wanted them to annoy me… I wanted to hear “Mister” but the sidewalks were free of them. The vitality of the place has disappeared… I want it back. I stayed only a few minutes to enjoy the cool shade. I walked to the bank hoping to get shekels from the ATM. Waited in line. There were no shekels. Had planned to stop at Maloof’s for ice cream but decided to save the few remaining shekels for a cold treat on another warm day in better times. Inshallah,,I’ll return to Al Jundi and find the park as I remembered it in better times. In better times. These are not the best of times, my friends. Tonight I walked a block to my home after a night shared with an old and trusted friend, a friend who understands these troubled times in Gaza. He has lived them. He has dreamed of them. He has shared them. I walked one block in total darkness with gunships just offshore (I could see their lights clearly) and drones were loud and low just above me - this is a street that I have walked so many nights before after sharing tea with friends, delighting in the company of Palestinian friends - but tonight, I was terrified. I cant lie. These are not the best of times in Gaza.
Posted on: Thu, 31 Jul 2014 20:42:47 +0000
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