Today I found out the my application for a permit to enter Gaza has been denied for the second time. When I asked why, I was told for "security reasons". I then asked my co-worker to show me the rejection papers that she received from the Israeli security department. My co-worker then began to laugh hysterically, she said, "Do you really think that they will actually send you the rejection papers? Habibti, they give you the answer over the phone, and the answer is NO PERMIT!". It is one word from them that dictates my entire movement in Palestine.
The news of my rejection and the conversation that I had with my co-worker occurred on our way back from Qalqilia. It occurred after hours of sitting with people form that area discussing how the wall that the Israelis built changed their life. How they struggle to attain the day to day basics. It occurred after a ten year old boy told me that his summer activity is selling bread in their town to help his father make some money. Needless to say, I was pissed the fuck off. Who the fuck are they to tell me where I can and cannot go. I felt so angry, frustrated, and completely helpless. I thought that if I was able to enter Gaza, then I would have a chance to make things right. However, I guess second chances don't always come as easy as we would like, or in the form that we would like them to be. I have to find my own peace with Gaza, I have to show her that I take responsibility for what happened to her, and for my silence.