One of the people I interviewed passed away today...

I've packed up my notebooks from Gaza in preparation for my move to DC tomorrow, so I'm going to be doing this short post from memory with little specific details, but that won't be that hard of a task since this particular story is etched in my mind. Maybe not the details, but the family, and the man....or boy....he was only 22....who passed away today. His name was Ahmed Al Assar and he had been diagnosed with epilepsy and a nervous system problem so severe that after 11 years, he was confined to a bed and could barely move. The expensive medications didn't work and his condition worsened over the years, leaving him in the state he was in today when he left the world. The most awful part of Ahmed's story is that when we sat and spoke with him, you could tell he could still understand everything we were saying and wanted to respond. His mind was still there, but it was trapped in a body that would no longer function. His hands and feet were crumpled and frozen in that state and when his brother would lift his arms, he would begin convulsing uncontrollably....his muscles atrophied and his nervous system not functioning. 

When we arrived at Ahmed's simple home in Nuseirat, we sat with his mother, father, and siblings for awhile. We started out with lovely conversation about their family and life in Gaza, laughing and smiling as his little siblings played with our cameras and told us about themselves. When Ahmed's mother began to explain his situation, it was obvious how helpless she felt. They were poor and couldn't find work, like 45% of the residents of Gaza, left with no hope for money because of the Israeli siege. Without money, treating Ahmed was a constant challenge, and as we discussed his condition, I couldn't help but question the diagnosis and wonder that if he had been able to access the type of care we have available to us in the US if he would be in such a state. The worst part was that 2 of his brothers were beginning to have seizures as well and were being treated the same way Ahmed was....their mother worrying she was going to lose two more of her boys to their beds as well since Ahmed's treatment had never worked. I couldn't imagine being her today....watching one of her sons slip away and not being able to take care of the other two as she wondered when she might lose them to the same illness.

The poverty, the poor medical care, and eventual death that Ahmed faced might have been avoidable from my perspective. If not for the poor treatment of Palestinians...the occupation.....the siege.....the complete lack of regard for them as human beings by the Israeli government and much of the West.....things could be different The situation in Gaza could be completely different if they had they weren't under siege and dealing with a political disaster that has left 1 million of them permanent refugees. The people of Gaza are well educated, kind-hearted people who simply want a better life and all of these things are holding them back and slowly killing the population. It just isn't right. 

The right words seem to be escaping me tonight, but ultimately, I'm just deeply saddened for Ahmed's family and am filled with concern for his two brothers who seemed so full of life, yet also with worry that their fate too could be sealed. I had to at least try to tell his story. 

RIP Ahmed.

Ahmed with his mother and brother

One of Ahmed's brothers who is dealing with the same medical issues developing

Ahmed's parents - amazing how much they smiled despite all they were dealing with

Ahmed's parents and another of his brothers

Oxfam Gaza Update: Tragedy in Khan Younis

Two more lives taken in Gaza as a result of the unfolding difficulties associated with Israel's illegal siege. The sewage issue in Gaza is a major problem not only because of situations like this, but because the waste is being dumped directly into the Mediterranean, causing a further environmental and health issue, simply because there is no where else to take it. Because of the siege, no sewage treatment plant can be built, nor can anything be done about the infrastructure because Israel won't let anything in. To make matters worse, the money for such a project simply isn't available. As a result you have an environmental and health crisis growing by the day and slowly taking lives in the process. This shouldn't be happening.

Tragedy in Khan Younis

Wesam Abu Sahloul, 5, and his sister Malak, 2, were playing with other children close to their home on 6 December 2011 when the siblings drowned in a sewage pond. The children lived in an area of Khan Younis that is not served by a municipal sewage collection system.

“I always felt fear for my children because of the sewage; they were my only children whom I brought to life after many years of trying,” their mother Fidaa Sahloul said. “Seeing them floating in the sewage tore my heart apart.”

Fidaa and her neighbours in Al Atatwa depend on cesspits to dispose of their sewage but they cannot always afford to have them professionally emptied. Residents instead discharge the sewage from their cesspits into an open area where a big and deep sewage pond has formed. The pond poses a serious public health threat to the neighbourhood and is a safety hazard, particularly for children, with similar accidents reported in the past. A three-year-old who fell in the same pond had to spend two months in intensive care and has been suffering from scabies ever since.

Residents have been complaining about the lack of sanitation services and the threats to the neighbourhood for the last 20 years but their complaints went unheeded.

“We need an end to this crisis; a dignified life with adequate sanitation services,” said Wasfiya Abu Sahloul, Wesam and Malak‟s grandmother. “We are faced day and night by the nasty smell and the mosquitoes, and it‟s worse in summer when we can‟t sleep at night from the mosquito bites. Our life has become unbearable here but we don‟t have any alternatives.”

Oxfam partner Palestinian Centre for Human Rights called for an investigation into the fatal accident and for the responsible parties to provide immediate protective measures around the sewage pool.

Text and picture: Ghada Snunu/EWASH

That Suit Isn't Going to Be Here When You Die

People are constantly asking me why I do what I do. The simple answer is "because I should," but the more complex answer lies in a comment I made to a friend today after she posted an article about the Gates Foundation's contribution to a polo-free year in India:

I'd love to see more wealthy people doing their part. Too many of them love running around the globe and spending $10,000 on a suit. Why not save children's lives and better the world? That suit isn't going to be here when you die, but the next generation will.

That, right there, is why I do what I do and why I believe more people should be doing the same. I remember growing up thinking "I want to be the CEO of some huge international corporation and make lots of money and travel the world and have a big old house and lots of stuff!" While that's all well and good and I do believe those who work hard should enjoy the benefits of said hard work, why not give back as well? You make all this money, why not do something truly, truly, worthwhile with it? 

I'm a girl who grew up comfortable. I'm from suburbia New Jersey and live in one of the richest counties in the country. My parents provided for me above and beyond what they needed to and still do sometimes. The money I've seen in my life thus far is insane. I'm surrounded by huge houses, BMWs, private schools, Amex cards with no limits, and designer clothes. I would be lying if I didn't tell you that I sometimes look at all of those things and go "Oohh pretty! Wouldn't it be nice?" but then I draw a line in my head and think "How many kids could I help with what that cost?" I think of the smiling faces of the hundreds of kids in Gaza who were able to receive school because of $17,000 worth of donations, and to me, those smiles are worth more than any of the shiny things I could covet at any moment. Those smiles, and knowing I helped to improve their life, even a one thousandth of a percent, is worth everything. 

I've always wanted to help people, and that definitely comes from how I was raised. My family was always doing what they could for others, and many times, doing it quietly. It wasn't about recognition, but simply about doing good. The tipping point for me was in time spent overseas. Seeing the rest of the world and getting outside of my bubble made me realize that how I was living wasn't even remotely close to normal. Having seen more of the US as well now, I know its not even normal right here at home either. I made my first trip abroad when I was 14 and then 9/11 happened and my world was turned upside down. September 11th made me acutely aware of what poverty can drive people to take part in. Although I took a hard-line stance after that, I also still felt an extreme empathy toward those who were much less fortunate than me and  simply trapped by circumstance. I'm the girl who cries at UNICEF commercials. My friend Maura can attest to the time I called her up crying because I had just seen a commercial for the 2004 tsunami victims. (She thought someone had died until, between gasping breaths I muttered, "the...the...kids....the the tsunami....its so sad!!!") I wanted to help, but I had no idea how. Then living in Cairo for five months in 2007 and seeing REAL poverty, sent my head spinning. Never in a million years, could I imagine seeing this in the US or imagine living on less than $2 per day. Then to go on to see what I saw in Palestine and and the Palestinian refugee camps in Jordan during that same trip left me feeling absolutely compelled to do something. 

It's this same tipping point that I think is missing in the US. Those in this country who are struggling, have an excuse. They have their own lives to focus on....their own problems....their own poverty even. But those living a comfortable life have no excuse except ignorance and their inability to look outside their bubble. How can you sit back and spend exorbitant amounts of money on things that make your life more and more cushy, yet not give back? And when I say give back, I don't necessarily imply giving abroad. You need to find your passion and what is important to you, but you need to be doing something more. Period. The clothes, the house, the cars, the gossip, the bullshit, isn't going to be here 100 years from now, but your legacy can be. The children you help could grow up and cure cancer or be the next Gandhi or Bill Gates or Steve Jobs or Mother Theresa or whomever else you could think of that could make great contributions to our world. Your great-great-great-great grandchildren won't be able to play with your BMW, but they will be able to live in a polio free world or a world where there is actually peace. 

This is why I do what I do. I believe in a better world and I believe that we can't stand around and wait for other people to make it better. We have to take matters into our own hands and do something. If you can go volunteer, awesome! If you can only give $5, amazing! If you have deep pockets and can give thousands of dollars, you may have just saved hundreds of lives. Enjoy your own life. Enjoy the material things and the luxuries you are able to afford, but make sure there is a balance there. I got a Michael Kors bag for Christmas and I absolutely love it. It's pretty, it's functional, and it's kinda nice to have a really good bag for once, but I've also sat here numerous times since getting it, wondering what I could have done with the $250 it cost, and then turned around and kept moving forward with all the volunteer work I do. This is what I mean by balance. You shouldn't be penalized for gifts or for working hard and earning wealth, but you should, without question, always think of others and give what you can. That suit or car or purse or wild night out in New York City isn't going to be here when you die, but the impact you have on people's lives, your legacy, could be. The one child you help tomorrow could be the one child who grows up into the one person who is able to bring peace to the world. Think about that the next time you make a big purchase, and ask yourself what you're going to do to balance it out. 

Oxfam Gaza Weekly Update: A Baby Is Gone

I'm going to begin posting the weekly updates from Oxfam-Gaza which I receive via email, as they are not currently appearing on their website and are a great way to understand the situation on the ground. It's the best re-reporting I can do from outside of Gaza, so here's the update this week, courtesy of Karl Schemrbi. 


This story in particular broke my heart because it was completely avoidable. My father suffers from kidney disease and because we're in the US he is able to get the dialysis he needs daily....at home....keeping him alive. While in Gaza, I visited the dialysis unit at Shifa Hospital and saw machines that were a decade old, people on shifts at 2 am because there are too many patients and not enough machines, and machines that were unusable because Israel wouldn't let parts into Gaza. To top it off, patients, old and young, would lose blood when the electricity would cut and the power would surge as the generators kicked on, stopping the machines momentarily and clotting the blood passing through the machine leaving it unusable. This is dangerous. This is inhumane. There is NO excuse for denying medical treatment to ANYONE. This, right here, is collective punishment. It cannot, and should not, be tolerated. 

I'll be writing more on my time at Shifa soon, but until then, here's the latest from Oxfam....

Seven-month-old Adham Baroud is seen here at the Al Rantissi Children‟s Hospital‟s in Gaza City‟ suffering from acute chronic renal failure while he was waiting for permission from the government of Israel to be able to travel for treatment.

The permit never came – Adham died at around 1am on 26 December. He was referred to Israel for emergency treatment by his doctors in Gaza on 1 December. By the 19th, when this photo was taken, Adham was described by doctors at the hospital‟s Intensive Care Unit as “terminal”.

Acting Hospital Director Dr Mustafa Al Aqila told Oxfam that Adham was referred to Israel after a catheter inserted four months earlier in a previous operation in Israel got infected. The boy was born suffering from congenital renal problems requiring specialised treatment that is unavailable in Gaza.

“Adham needed immediate surgery and we couldn‟t provide that kind of service in Gaza,” Dr Al Aqila said. “We waited for Israel‟s permission to send him for treatment, like we did in the past, but the more time passed the more complicated his situation became.”

“We want to expand our services but the siege limits our development,” Dr Al Aqila said.

While emergency beds for patients waiting for permission to travel for treatment may not always be immediately available in Israeli hospitals, Israel, as the occupying power, is obliged under international law to ensure the welfare of Palestinian civilians whenever the existing resources do not suffice.

At the moment, the Gaza Strip is also suffering from a serious shortage of kidney dialysis filters that is putting the lives of 450 Palestinians, including 15 children, at risk.

This problem is also related to the lack of coordination between the Ramallah-based health ministry, which is responsible for ordering and sending medical supplies to Gaza, and its counterpart in Gaza.

Renal dialysis filters are essential for the cleansing of kidneys, and patients normally require two to three dialysis rounds a week.

“Kidney dialysis is a cycle. If you take out one element, the treatment cycle is stopped, and that compromises everything,” Dr Al Aqila said.

Last week, around 960 filters were sent from the West Bank to Gaza, an emergency measure that allowed dialysis rounds to continue, but the problem will remain unless thousands are shipped to the enclave soon. The same problem has existed for other medical disposables and medicines throughout this year, imposing an ongoing medical crisis in Gaza.

Oxfam partner the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights (PCHR) called on Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas to intervene urgently and get the health ministry in Ramallah to supply the blood filters to Gaza immediately. According to PCHR, there are currently 178 types of medicines and 190 types of medical consumables that are out of stock at Gaza‟s health facilities.

“PCHR warned of the impact of the shortage of medicines on the lives of patients in the Gaza Strip, but the crisis has not improved and it has re-emerged with the shortage of medicines necessary for renal diseases,” the centre said, adding that long-term coordination between the two governments was now an urgent priority, especially under the current atmosphere of political reconciliation.

Text and picture: Karl Schembri/Oxfam

**The full report includes stats on the humanitarian situation. If you'd like to be added to Oxfam's distribution list, let me know**

#GazaLives

A friend in Gaza told me that I should write something on Gaza since I've lived there and it's the third anniversary of Operation Cast Lead, but to be honest, I'm struggling. I could never feel what my friends there have felt. The pain....the suffering....the sheer terror of total warfare. No where to run and hide, no way to fight back. I can't even begin to imagine it. It's heart wrenching and downright painful to even hear the stories, let alone live them. So what can I say?

I will never forget watching the invasion of Gaza and feeling my heart physically break. I was still somewhat new to this whole "Palestine thing" and had been in the West Bank just a year earlier, witnessing, for the first time, what occupation meant. Transforming my opinions from pro-Israel to pro-justice, human rights, and peace. I was torn to shreds by what I saw there and instantly compelled to do more. Now, a year later, I was standing in the Newseum in Washington, DC, in front of its massive screen, watching re-runs of Obama's speeches, when suddenly, CNN broke through with the news that Gaza was being invaded.  I was with a friend, and it took all of my strength not to collapse onto the floor in tears. We'd been glued to the TV watching the lead up to this....the bombing.....the horror of bodies obliterated....and we knew this was coming.....but the news hit me like a speeding train. I knew this meant a massacre. It was already underway, and I thought this was the nail in Gaza's coffin. I was terrified for the people there and could only think of the families and incredible people I'd met in the West Bank who had compelled me to where I was in that moment. They deserved so much more than this.

Fast forward to April and I found myself sitting in a lecture at NYU given by Dr. Mads Gilbert. He had been on the ground, treating patients in Shifa Hospital during Cast Lead, and hearing his words, listening as he described, in nauseatingly graphic detail, the mutilated bodies, the screaming mothers, the shocked children begging for their fathers. The pictures left me so distraught, I could barely breathe, and after the lecture, I quietly asked Mads for his card, not knowing that it was in that moment that I would find my inspiration and support to go to Gaza myself. 

I first entered Gaza a year after the invasion and what I saw, was sadly, exactly what you would expect. A sealed off world, completely devastated by the despicable crimes against humanity that the IDF had committed. Bombed out buildings everywhere. Families reeling from what they had survived. I met the Samouni family and found myself in one of their homes, staring at hate-filled graffiti left behind on their walls, while holding Narmeen Samouni's hand and choking back tears. The incredible part of all of this was that these people still had hope and still welcomed me with tea and smiles. Sharing their stories with strength and courage I could only dream of. I was completely in awe, but this was Gaza.

It has been three months since my last journey to Gaza, which lasted three months this time, instead of three days. I now feel like I know Gaza....at least what one can know in three months. I know the goodness of the people....the strength, courage, generosity, hospitality, love, and hope. I know that Israel tried to break them 3 years ago today and continues to try to break them daily with the siege and drones and air strikes and navy ships, but I also know that the people of Gaza are some of the most incredible people in the world, and their spirit can never be broken. You can kill their families, starve them, destroy their homes, schools....everything; but they will carry on....heads held high....because they know they deserve more and because they constantly fill their lives and those around them with hope for a better future.

In a place where the children don't dream of becoming famous, but instead dream of becoming doctors, lawyers, and engineers so they can help their people, I have no doubt that a better future awaits. It is, however, up to us, the international community, to ensure that Israel never again, brings its iron fist down on Gaza, suffocating and massacring the children with their dreams and Gaza's hope. I made a promise to myself the day that I met Narmeen Samouni, as I sat in the back of a bus sobbing once we'd left, that I would do whatever I could not to let her or the other children of Gaza continue to suffer, and I reaffirmed that promise to myself a few months ago when I got to see her again and spent a couple of wonderful afternoons with her and her cousins. We cannot let Gaza's hope die at the hands of war criminals. We must speak up, and be sure their voices are heard, every...single...day, so that the world knows that next time, no one will stand silent. Today...and always....Gaza lives.

Me and Narmeen during my first trip to Gaza

Me and Mousheera with some of the Samouni children (and Narmeen in bright green to my right)

Ehab Tulba, 10, son of a fisherman

Boy looking through the grate of an UNRWA container school in Nuseirat

Girls celebrating after the Parachute World Record

Boys enjoying the UNRWA Summer Games

From a previous post: "Faiza's nephew (holding the truck and animal we gave him) is around 2 and now may never speak again. He was playing in the home and tripped on some of the rubble, falling and splitting his tongue. He needed 12 stitches and because of the nature of the injury, has not spoken since and may not be able to regain the ability. The aftermath of a bombed out home being a child's only playground."

Boy in the Khan Younis Co-Ed Elementary School

Reflections on Gaza begin....

Sitting here reflecting on my time in Gaza is both challenging and bitter sweet. I met so many amazing people and did so many incredible things, that I know there will always be a special place in my heart for Gaza and its residents. The challenges faced as well, leave me feeling an odd sense of freedom and relaxation now that I’ve left though, and leave me wondering if I would have made it staying there for the long haul like I considered at one point. Perhaps if I’d been more consumed by an actual job it would have been a different feeling, but those moments of idleness and the inability to be fully myself, and fully independent, are what made it difficult.

Despite that, I will forever miss the beauty of the people and the simplicity of life, and don’t honestly think you can experience such warmth and openness elsewhere. My last few weeks in Gaza really stand out when I think about this and I think about the family I had the opportunity to share them with. They were beyond wonderful and welcomed me as soon as I walked in their door. At a point in my time in Gaza where the stress of daily life and some of the dramas that come from living in a place where society is closed off from the world by a siege, this family made me feel safe and secure…loved and cared for. I’m forever, forever, grateful for them, and that is what I will miss about Gaza. The countless cups of tea, the moments of laughter with those I was meeting with and those who welcomed me into their homes to share their stories and their lives.

Nothing about Gaza is easy. The electricity cuts, the airstrikes, the strain of feeling imprisoned by the siege, and at times the conservative society, the salty showers when all you wanted was a fresh cool shower to cleanse yourself of the dirt and stress of the day to day. The security concerns and the knowledge that someone was always watching your every move left me feeling like I had to retreat at times. But when I could let go of that, and do what I was there to do, life in Gaza was beautiful. I will never ever forget what I have seen and heard and am in awe of the strength and resilience of the people I met and those I didn’t even have the opportunity to meet. Their stories and their hopes and dreams are what I will share. I’m inspired by them all.

Gaza is so complex and it is going to take me weeks to truly reflect on all I’ve learned from it and to understand fully how it has impacted my life. Today, for the first time, I woke up from a nap in Cairo, and breathed in fully and relaxed with my independence restored. Now the thoughts are flowing into my mind and I’m trying to make sense of everything and completely see what my full purpose was, as I know my time there was just one step in a journey and one piece of what I now owe to Gaza and to the world. Some of life in Gaza was shared in my blog, and I can only hope it opened people’s minds and hearts to the reality of the situation they face and what we, as Americans, have done to create it. There is so much more, though, and by no means have I done all of what I need to do to repay Gaza, which welcomed me, and allowed me the chance to understand. My life will never be the same.

Give a man a fish....

I'm normally not a big proponent of aid. I don't think it always helps, and can actually be counter-productive at times. The saying, "give a man a fish, he eats for a day, but teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime," always comes to mind when considering it. There are certain instances when it can be a vital part of life and a necessary component of development; however, and I saw this first hand over the last week while visiting an UNRWA school in Khan Younis, where over 2000 students from the Khan Younis Girls Prep C and the Khan Younis Co-Ed Elementary attend classes on a double shift – the girls in the morning, and the co-ed elementary in the afternoon.

This school is one of the poorest in the UNRWA school system in Gaza, with over 50% of students being classified as abject poor, meaning they come from families that are no longer able to feed themselves, even with UNRWA assistance, and typically survive on less than 1 USD per day. They are the poorest of the poor here in Gaza and many of the families have been driven to this point because of the lack of employment and the stagnant economy, which is a direct result of the Israeli siege. Now, the students depend on the School Feeding Program implemented by UNRWA through its Emergency Appeal for sustenance, and are about to lose this lifeline due to lack of funding.

The School Feeding Program provides basic food for the students, and while it is not a huge meal, it is a help, and takes a bit of the burden off of the parents, filling the bellies of hungry children in Gaza so that they can get the education they deserve. These children who may go hungry at home, now have the opportunity to eat before their classes, which can drastically impact their ability to learn. It is something that the students and their families have become dependent on, until the siege is eased and the economic situation can improve.

The importance of the program truly struck me while I was speaking with the principal of the Girls Prep School after she informed me that the School Feeding Program has been on hold since the beginning of the school year because funds are not available. The result has been one or two students fainting during the school day, - every day - since the beginning of the month, and numerous students complaining of hunger related headaches.

These kids deserve so much more than this. They are victims of circumstance, and have dreams bigger than most of the children I know in the US. While conducting interviews of over 35 students in both schools, the one question I asked that repeatedly shocked me by the answers I received was “What do you want to be when you grow up and why?” The vast majority of the children wanted to be doctors and engineers and teachers, and all for the same reason: they wanted to help their people. Where else do children have dreams like this? In the US, where 90% of kids do not go to school hungry, or face abject poverty of this level, the children want to be famous celebrities or singers or reality TV stars. As Americans, we take this all for granted. In Gaza, kids just simply want their lives to improve…somehow. If the way to begin this process is through a simple meal before school so that they can focus, and learn, and achieve their dreams, I can’t, for the life of me, understand how we cannot support it.

For more information and a chance to donate visit American Friends of UNRWA: http://friendsunrwa.org/our-programs/education