|
The attic door was opened, and all the blankets including the new ones that had still been in their plastic bags were used, and were left with stains, spots of dirt, food and other stuff. On my way upstairs to the roof, I noticed that the laundry, the clean and the dirty, was messed with and was thrown on the steps and on the floor of the roof. The amount of the sand that was scattered in the house was amazing. Sand was everywhere; even on the sofas. The best way to
describe what had happened and as it seemed to me was that there had been a battle inside the house.
I moved from room to room in a daze. I became speechless and didn’t know whether to cry, shout, or laugh! All I could think of was the size of damage and the amount of time and effort that would be needed to fix everything and get back to normal. I thought of the
amount of water needed to hand-wash the blankets, sheets, clothes and carpets since there was no electricity. I did nothing because I didn’t know how or where to start. Our neighbors left as shooting resumed nearby. We went down to my mother-in-law’s house, where we had macaroni for lunch. After lunch, I had the courage to go up to my house. The British say that an
Englishman’s home is his castle, and I say that there is nothing like my home. I heaped up a huge pile of clothes, another of blankets and a third of sheets and bed covers. The piles were of the size of a room. Everybody helped, and we started with the kitchen. Cleaning the fridge was the sickening part. I felt like vomiting more than once. The smell was so unbelievably awful. The fridge has been without electricity for almost two weeks. We emptied the contents in
nylon bags and my husband decided to burn them in the street along with the garbage that the soldiers left behind. We spent nearly a day cleaning the first floor, the kitchen, living room, guestroom and the bathroom, replacing what we could to its normal place. My husband and a neighbor cleaned the outside stairs, and by the time we were done, it got dark. We all went down to my parents’-in-law. We left the door open since it was broken and couldn’t be closed. I didn’t
feel like eating since I was very tired. I slept like a log. At about 1 o’clock, we heard the ugly sound of the tank approaching our street. My husband and I literally jumped out of our beds. We were all ears as we listened. The tank kept on going and it didn’t stop by our house. I felt relaxed and went back to bed. Wednesday April 17, 2002 Today was a very busy day of washing, cleaning and laundry work. I only hand-washed the towels, bed sheets, pillowcases and 5 blankets since our water reserve was low. I threw away the 3 towels that were soaked in the bathtub since they were disgusting even to look at. I used Dettol, chlorine, and detergents with the water. It took us till 1 o’clock. When
we were done, I was exhausted and my back pained me, and my hands were red, itchy and with small cuts and wounds some of which bled. My nails that used to be long were cut to the edge, and my fingertips hurt. I heard voices in the street, and it seemed that the people dared go out to the street after the soldiers had left our house. The people cleaned the street and
used the water that was spouting out of the damaged pipes. The curfew was still on, and the people talked and complained about the soul-destroying situation. Then shooting was heard nearby, which forced the people to disperse quickly. The street became empty again and the voices disappeared. I had a careful look at myself in the mirror and was shocked to see that I
looked 10 years older. My complexion seemed darker and my hair was threaded with strands of white. I told myself I needed a dye. I weighed myself on the bathroom scales and found out that I had lost 5 kilos. At least that was one dream fulfilled! Although the children were dying to sleep in their own beds, they told me that they kept imagining soldiers hiding
everywhere in the house, and that there was a strange, thick acrid smell that they described as “the smell of soldiers”. They felt disgusted and refused to sleep in their house and went down to their grandparents’ house. At about 4 o’clock, two vehicles came to the street, one to restore the electricity supply and the other for the water. The men were wearing orange
jackets as an indicator that they were service men. No sooner had they begun to inspect the source of the damage when a tank from the opposite direction moved in and opened fire on them. Bewildered and afraid, the men went to their vehicles and left quickly. Our lunch today was again macaroni. Nana and Veno liked it while Nammor ate tuna instead. We decided to sleep in
my parents’-in-law’s house to give more time for the laundry to dry. My house doesn’t look my house. It is alien and strange. Our enemy had used it. I must get used to it. I know it needs time. I must do my best for the sake of my children. I must work hard to get it back to normal. The experience that we went through was very hard and painful. I'll be more pain filled if we can't go over it. I'll try hard to get back to normal; I'll cook delicious meals for my family
in my kitchen. I will store food in the fridge that still smells. I'll enjoy drinking the morning coffee with my husband. I'll invite and receive guests in my house again. When I feel sick, I'll relax in my own bed. I'll read the newspaper and use my computer. I hope that all these things will be normal again for my family. Only then, my house will be friendly and sweet. My mother-in-law told me that our neighbor was crying when she told her that her grandson’s
condition was deteriorating simply because it was impossible to convey him to hospital, either by ambulance or on foot. She cursed the life we were leading, because the baby could die. Thursday April 18, 2002 This morning, the electricity and water service men came again to our street. They said that they used a short cut to avoid the soldiers and tanks. We understood that the electricity had been reconnected to some areas. It took them two hours to connect the electricity and fix the water pipes. Finally, for the first time in two weeks, we had electricity. I
washed 3 piles of clothes in the washing machine and four carpets on the roof. We used sweeps and brooms of different sizes and lengths. We left the other three carpets till next day. I used the vacuum to clean the floor mat filled to capacity with sand. Even clean they looked sad, marked by the holes created from cigarette butts. Again I found toilet paper and empty cans under the beds. I even found some of my underwear under Nammor’s bed. In the girls’ chest of
drawers, I found some of my panties, nightgowns, socks, and lingerie, while a huge pile of their clothes was in my wardrobe. The cordless phone was missing. It was very difficult for me to rub and clean the floor cover since my hands were sore. Anyway, I was finally done with the kids’ bedrooms and I left my bedroom till the next day. People said that the curfew would
be lifted on all parts of the city from 1-6. The Israelis told the Red Cross staff who spread the news. It was true since there was an exodus of tanks, withdrawing to the outer parts of the city. The tanks surrounded the city. At 1 o’clock, people went out in an attempt to buy food and other things. I didn’t prepare lunch, and we decided to go and visit my parents. At 2 o’clock, we drove to their house with great difficulty since the streets and roads were dug up.
There were piles of soil, pools of sewage water, rocks and uprooted trees. The air was full of dust from the churned up tarmac. The visibility was poor as if there had been a dust storm or a sandstorm over the city. On the sides of the streets, there were piles of garbage sacks and the smell was awful. We decided to visit my parents first then go for a “tour” in the old city where the battles had taken place. Our meeting with my father and mother was like a meeting in
a dream. We hugged, kissed and held hands for a long time. My mother thanked God for having the chance to be alive and to see me. There were tears in my fathers’ eyes as he hugged and kissed my children. My mother had prepared lunch, so we ate together. Their situation had been no better than ours. Although the electricity had been cut off for 4 days only in their
area, they had consumed most of their supply of meat, vegetables and fruit in the fridge. Today, she cooked the last chicken. I thought that the children would fight over the meat, but to my surprise, they said they were still disgusted with memories of the rotten maggot-covered meat in our fridge. They kept remembering the worms that came out of it. They didn’t touch the chicken. I stayed with my parents while my husband went to the market. There were no vegetables,
no fruit and no meat in the market. We had expected this since the city had been under such a prolonged curfew and siege, that no goods had entered from nearby cities and villages. What people were buying however were rice, flour, oil, powdered milk and potatoes. My husband came back with milk, potatoes and candles. He couldn’t find bread, which meant we had to make our own bread.
At about 4, we said goodbye and left my parents’ house, and headed towards the old city. On the main street, signs of war could be seen: houses with broken glass, shops with broken doors, damaged walls, cars and vehicles that were either burnt or crushed by the huge tanks, streets that were dug up, electricity and telephone poles lying on the streets. People were walking speechless, dazed as zombies. As we reached the city center, the destruction was obvious. Some of
our favorite shops no longer existed, and new “roads” had been forced open between houses leading to the old sector of the city. Four schools were hit and the one that I had attended during my girlhood was severely shelled. Shops, stores, offices and a pharmacy were also hit. Inside the old city, the destruction was greater: Very old and historical places, such as three Turkish baths that were renovated recently, three soap factories that produced the famous
traditional Nablusi soap, two factories for making sesame seeds and tahini, places, which were supposed to be 500 years old, were all severely hit. Even the oldest and biggest mosque lay completely destroyed. Another mosque still stood though badly damaged. Some houses were reduced to piles of rubble, iron bars and furniture. The smell was awful. It was the smell of destruction, death, rotten garbage and dynamite. We felt sad. The children, who couldn’t understand what
was happening, were shocked and speechless. I cried and wished that we really had been terrorists, outlaws or even criminals, so that we would deserve all this. NEXT
|
