22 Jan 2009 The Traveler Series: A trip to Gaza (part 1)

Here’s the first part (out of 2) of our CMO’s last trip to Israel and Gaza. Giorgio was there a week ago. As Israel’s Channel2 wrote: “When Israeli soldiers were packing their bags for Gaza, Giorgio packed his small bag with sweets, got on a plane and flew to Israel”. Here’s his story:

Being under heavy interview for hours, at Malpensa Airport, was no big deal after all. I like to talk about myself, and the El-Al security guy was very interested in my stories. I explained scores of times the purpose of my trip, the names of my friends, and what they do, where they live, and what did I do in Syria, and Lebanon and Qatar, etc. etc. and again and again. It was cool and I was used to it, it was my 4th time in Israel, but the guy became more and more distrustful. “Il tuo viaggio ha qualcosa di sospetto”, he said in Italian. Your trip is somehow suspicious. And in with the same questions again.

I decided to go back to Israel just a few days ago. Al Jazeera was getting real nasty, BBC and CNN unbearable, I couldn’t even get ordinary facts about the war. Just civilian death tolls, death tolls, minute by minute. I wanted to go see, feel it, share some bad emotions and maybe understand something more. Mum sent me a ticket on wedsnday and on friday I was there, cleared to board, escorted to the gate by security girls, sitting in the second-last row, isolated but with a careful guard sleeping in the row behind mine.

Tel Aviv at sunset was awesome, as usual. And as I drove along Highway 1 into the city, skyscrapers appeared in their white light, and a lot of memories came to my mind. She does not disappoint me, ever.

Elias was at the reception to welcome me, in a blue t-shirt and a rough beard. “Hey man”, he says, friendly, but I don’t have much time to spend at the hotel. Emily has invited me to a homey, wonderful yemen-flavoured dinner. In her room, she shows me her Navy uniform and nostalgically points herself on some old pictures, as she and her sister set up to take me out to the Port.

Tel Aviv seems to be in a bubble. You can notice shades of sadness in people’s eyes, some hidden fear, but their lives go on as usual. Their war is at least 60 years old, in fact. A sort of habit, some may say.

Saturday

The morning flows smooth as Maya canceled our lunch meeting, so I start walking around to feel the pulse of Tel Aviv promenade in war days. Crossing crowded Tayelet Herbert Samuel I suddenly realize how weird I am, dressed in shirt, sweater and jacket, among beach boys and families of dozens multicolored kids.

The McDonald’s is stuffed with people and I can notice some warily eyes on me, due to my awkward look, or maybe just to the big camera i’m carrying around. But nothing worries Israelis more than usual. On the contrary, the West Bank Fence built in 2006 appears to have lifted from the security guys most of the concerns about suicide bombers. As I eat the non-kosher BigMac, I gaze Israelis, amazed to see how they walk forward, build, go out, live their lives with no compromise, in any condition, before any fear. You can’t say they are not scared, but for sure they know how to face dangers. And here lays the definition of courage.

Meanwhile, my efforts to arrange a trip southward continue. From the GilGal Hall I’m browsing my address books, messengers and Facebook friendlist, writing to those available for help – my Facebook profile fills up with incredulous and supportive comments. I’m looking for someone who would come with me and help me getting into the Soroka Hospital, to visit some wounded soldiers. “I’m too shy to go alone”, I tell everyone. Many friend-of-friend paths have started but most friends are forbidden by parents to go south (hey they are brave but they care of their kids). I can’t get to any conclusion until Alon and Keren (friends from Couchsurfing) answer: yes.

After a dinner in Rehovot and some fun at Rishon LeZion beach, I head to Alon and Keren’s place in Tel Aviv and we talk, mostly of my previous trips – I keep enjoying telling about myself. We also plan our drive to Beer Sheva and Keren suggests we could even go to Ashqelon and Sderot. I had those places in mind but I didn’t dare to suggest friends to come under rocket fire. They did! And they even offered me a tea in a huge mug.