Rafah

Sat. May 30, 2009

We leave our budget hotel in Al Arish (complimentary cockroaches) about 9AM and board the buses for the short trip to the Rafah crossing, accompanied by an armada of uniformed Egyptians carrying guns. There are three checkpoints to clear and the first is supposed to be the toughest. Denial of entry has been quixotic and arbitrary for prior delegations who have spent days trying unsuccessfully to get in. The one successful prior CP delegation of about thirty waited two days and got in on the coattails of a British MP, George Galloway, with the assistance of Mme Mubarak on International Women’s Day.

We wait in the bus. Officers of various rank get on the bus and glower at us. They tell us to get off the bus. We get off the bus. Two Egyptian women who joined our delegation in Cairo and who have relatives in Gaza, are taken out of line for questioning. Medea and Tighe stay with them. They are to be excluded as are all Egyptians except officials. They knew they would probably be excluded. Medea and Tighe burn up their cell phones trying to get Foreign Ministry approval for the women’s entry but no go. Suddenly the rest of us are told to board the bus and we’re waved through, truck and all, to the second checkpoint for baggage and passport check. We cheer and sing.

First Checkpoint, Rafah, Egypt

At the second checkpoint we wait four hours in a large indoor open area, lounging on chairs and the floor, and setting up a mess of mezze, passing out cookies and peanuts.
A few of the delegates complain that CP should show solidarity with the Egyptian women by having two of the leaders go back to Cairo with them to make sure there isn’t any retaliation. These delegates call a meeting of everyone to discuss and vote on this. Medea responds sharply, indicating that the Egyptian women knew their chances of being admitted to Gaza were near zero as is the case with all Egyptians; that they accepted that risk and are not worried about returning by taxi; and that our mission is in Gaza and we can’t afford to dispatch group leaders away from that. After some discussion the dissidents acquiesce and everything lightens up. A later report confirms the Egyptian women made it back to Cairo without incident.

By early afternoon we are passed through, lining up to pay our exit fee. We collect our passports and luggage, reload the buses and climb aboard for the final joyful leg of this odyssey – 100 meters to Gaza. As our buses and truck cross into Rafah/Gaza we are greeted by dozens of Gazans cheering, waving and taking pictures. We cheer and wave back. We disembark and are ushered into a reception hall where we are warmly welcomed by the Minister of Education Many security guards are present, this time not watching us but watching out for us. The Minister expresses his concern for our safety v/v extremists and Israeli agents. He urges us to see anything we want and to talk to anyone but to stay in groups for safety. Ann Wright (CP co-founder and former Lt.Col. and US diplomat who resigned over the Iraq war), thanks the Minister.

One of the Canadian delegates, Linda, who has corresponded eight years on-line with a Gazan Palestinian, meets him for the first time at the station and they announce they are going to be married. Naturally, we cheer and sing.

We reboard and travel to the United Nations Relief and Works Agency training facility at Khan Yunis, built on the site of a former Israeli settlement. Our presence in Gaza is officially per the invitation of the UNRWA. Much of our time on this mission will be spent visiting the various service facilities funded by the UN and staffed by Gazans.
The Agency, though technically restricted to assisting refugees (approximately one million of the one and one half million Gazan population) employs or provides some kind of support to 90% of the population.

We are welcomed by the UNRWA Director, John Ging, an Irishman, who delivers a passionate plea for us to help facilitate the end of the blockade. He describes the arbitrary and deliberate cruelty of the blockade. Only “essential” foodstuffs and medicine are allowed through, and even that sparingly. He fears that Gazans, in particular young Gazans, will lose hope and be recruited by extremists who use illegal violence. He says we must get the policymakers to come to Gaza. Gazans are maligned as bloodthirsty terrorists. They are educated, peace loving, industrious people who just want to live their normal lives like anyone else. Medea replies and promises we will tell the truth about Gaza in our home countries.

Outside, we mill around tables set with a buffet, under an awning shielding us from the mid-day sun. The UN Training facility is built on land that was an Israeli “settlement” until the 2005 withdrawal. When they left, the settlers and the IDF destroyed everything – crops, buildings, all structures. Except for the UN project, the land around us is barren, reclaimed by the desert. A housing project stands half completed and silent, abandoned for lack of building material.

The food is good. Of course there is no alcohol. But the Gazans don’t need it to have a good time. Someone puts on Arabic music on the PA and soon everybody is dancing, including the UN support staff, the security guards, the CP delegates and the administrators. And me. This goes on for over an hour.

 UNWRA Director of Security

Tired and slaphappy over our initial success we board the buses for the Hotel Commodore in Gaza City, passing, on the way, several buildings destroyed by the IDF planes and gunboats.


John Ging