We spoke so quietly. So softly. The near-full moon cast the light off her face just so. There was so much to talk about. I hadn't seen her in a year! As we hopped from subject to subject, I realized that this was perfect. The cool night's breeze. The moon. The stars.
We burned through the various things we had done during the year when she paused and looked into the distance. She could muster no more than a sigh.
The distance at which she stared was where the sound of gunfire was coming from. It's funny how quickly these things become mundane. The guns had barely stopped since sunset. Heavy machineguns. Light machineguns. Tank-shells. Palestinian-made explosives. The strange thing is that this was not a battle. It was just another night.
A new, yellow light cast on her face harshly. The Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF) had sent it up to light their way. It was vaguely reminiscent of a video I saw of the Sabra and Shatila massacre. It streamed down slowly, billowing smoke as it fell until it finally burned out. The moon was the only light again until the next yellow light a few minutes later. We continued chatting.
Nablus and its refugee camps have not had a night of calm in almost a week. I've been here for only a day, and yet I could see why. The people of Nablus haven't obeyed curfew in almost a year. The Israeli army cannot keep any earthen roadblocks within the city. The people are always quick to clear them. The people of Nablus lost 105 of their family and friends in the last siege of the city in April, when hundreds of tanks descended upon the city.
An explosion punctuated one of my sentences. I couldn't help but be amused. Maybe that's because I'm so far away. Maybe it'll be different if I'm in the wrong place on another night.
tarek : )