‘The Gaza in all of us revives our hearts’

The following were written prior to Viva Palestina’s entry into Gaza. The first is by Tarek Abedrabb, a young Syrian man who took part in the delegation.

Freedom lies not on a land, nor on a country’s borders that separate people. Freedom lies in the hearts of individuals. Sometimes, the hearts of these individuals are filled with so much love that is spreads to others all across the globe. That was what we experienced in the last eight days—the love spread to us by the people in Gaza. Their solidarity has united the masses that many have tried to divide.

With the 100-degree weather all day and night, consistent surprises of a bureaucratic system that seems strange to many, and the gathering of over 200 people from different races and cultures in one confined place—something developed, beautifully unique in the world we live in, outside of the Viva Palestina project: the bond of people of all races and religions coming together as sisters and brothers, caring for each other.

I have personally added 218 family members in the last week. They consist of Christians, rabbis, priests and atheists. A family of black, white, yellow and brown. Gaza has united people that would have never thought to be eating together under the hot sun of Egypt, and soon Gaza.

Maybe it’s Gaza, maybe it’s the eyes of the children in Gaza, and maybe it’s the Gaza in all of us that revives our hearts. We must acknowledge that Gaza has given us back our hearts, our souls and our minds. The love for Gaza has spread to all the free hearts of this world; I do admire the free souls of Gaza.

The tactics used to slow us might physically drain us, but as for our goal, these tactics only make us stronger and more determined than ever to cross that border. To unite with our other half of freedom.

As we prepare to face more obstacles on this convoy, one thing remains certain, our convoy and our members will enter Gaza. We will enter with our hearts. We will enter with the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.: “An individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and who willingly accepts the penalty of imprisonment in order to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the highest respect for the law.”

Below are excerpts written by a young Egyptian health care worker who took part in the convoy to Gaza.

It was half past midnight at the Grand Giza Hotel in the busy and bustling city of Gaza. The general restlessness of the convoy was broken by a report that after days of negotiations with Egyptian authorities, we received permission to head east toward the blockaded city of Gaza. Suddenly the hotel came alive with convoy members hurrying back and forth to prepare the trucks loaded with medical relief supplies.

All of us were operating so that we would be able to hit the road by 3 a.m. However, it was pushed forward first to 5 a.m., then finally at 9 a.m. before the convoy was on the move.

In the front were the trucks with medical aid, followed by the buses. The first few hours were spent sleeping to recover from the previous night’s work. But our spirits began to soar as we approached and the buses broke out in singing and Palestinian music.

At last we arrived, after many doubts about whether the Egyptian authorities would use bureaucracy as a weapon of attrition or outright prevent us from entering Gaza altogether.

This is not to say they have been anywhere near flexible in the logistical aspects of the mission. So tight is the blockade on Gaza that we were only allowed entry for a 24-hour period. Beyond that, we were warned, we would be trapped within Gaza until the next border opening several months later.

As a public health professional, I respectfully asked if 24 hours is nearly enough to cover even one public health aspect in a city that has been blockaded by more than three years and ravaged by Israel’s most recent military offensive, “Operation Cast Lead.”

Would I be able to explore the toxic effects of Israel’s use of white phosphorous, an agent deemed by the U.N. as forbidden for use against civilians? Would I have time to study the impact of malnutrition on children and mothers given the scarcity of nutritious food, or the rise of infectious disease in hospitals and scarcity following destruction of the civil infrastructure, including sewer, water and other sanitation systems?

Would I have time to explore the impact of post-traumatic stress disorder and other psychological trauma borne from air raids, artillery, deaths of entire families overnight, and execution-style killings of civilians by Israeli troops in border regions of the city?

There is a more personal meaning to this convoy. My grandfather was a medic in the Egyptian military during the six-day war in June 1967. He and others were taken as POWs at Al-Shifa hospital in Gaza. To return to the place where my grandfather first served, also for the cause of medical relief, brings me closer to him even in his absence.

But, as we drive through these checkpoints, I am thinking of only one aspect of the convoy, the humanitarian effort to break the siege on this oppressed people. Representing the U.S. in this mission as an ambassador of peace will also hopefully establish ties between these two freedom-loving peoples.