In Gaza, the smell of the air after it rains is so tempting that you want to keep standing in the street for no reason but to keep the fresh smell in your lungs. In Gaza, you envy others for being so happy and others envy you for having nothing. In my precious Gaza, you curse having to go to university ( you curse everything actually, not only that. You curse your friends, your neighbors, the news, your clothes, taxis, the food and on goes the list) at eight because you spent the night doing nothing but watching documentary videos about Gaza, which is the place you think you know the most.
Only in Gaza, you get used to being uncomfortable, sitting in a Taxi while being crushed by an old woman, who knows that you’re not comfortable, still asks you if you are. You look away and say you’re fine. Education in Gaza drives you crazy, for you wonder where all the girls go if not to university, complaining about the huge number of girls on the stairs, and of course the ones using the elevator. Misery chases you all the way to your home because you know all the time is going to slip away cleaning and watching documentary videos, although you have planned on studying the whole day long_ sometimes, you sleep, out of nowhere, you fall asleep, just like that!
People never get used to the sounds of bombs and shelling though they know them pretty well. When a bomb is dropped somewhere from the sky to the Gazan ground, your parents rush to the radio, helplessly, thinking that it would help. You feel scared because your bed shook. Then, you laugh at yourself because you know it’s not an earthquake.