Journal, May 22, 2006 (edited May 26)—Gaza

Photos: Gaza-2

Other photos and writing

Dispatches from Gaza - 2

By Skip Schiel

Shooting & Shelling

Shooting and shelling. That was the reality yesterday as Amani (a water expert with the UN's Office for Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, OCHA) and I toured more water sites. The shelling occurred after we'd visited the sewage lagoons near Beit Hanoun. Our guide from the Palestinian Water Authority, Amani, several others, and I were up close and down dirty, , in the muck and mire of the sewage. They pointed out to us the craters in the sandy, previously irrigated lands, the precarious sandy roads separating ponds, and the fences. They claimed--and I'm not sure how they'd prove this--that the Israelis fire from tanks without provocation or warning. The tour guide said, the shelled yesterday, they could fire today, maybe in one hour, they could shoot as we stand here now. To be ready, I looked for cover, I decided I'd dive down the ridge and cover my head.

The farmers have fled the land adjacent to the ponds, leaving all their irrigation apparatus such as hoses lying abandoned. The fields were dry and desolate. Kids could stray thru the broken fencing and fall into the ponds, as one young girl did recently, dying. Or the shells could sever the road barriers and cause flooding. The ponds are on a hill, a succession of gradually lower pools. Farms and homes are at the bottom. A Bedouin village is in the line of flooding. Above us was the spot from which, a few days ago, I surveyed the scene from the height. I made a panoramic from the separate photos.

There was no firing while we explored. Thank god. Later, however, examining another site for a new sewage treatment plant--relocated because the original site was too close to homes--just after I'd climbed on our truck for a better view of the pits being dug for the new lagoons, we heard a loud sharp thumping boom, not too far away. I instinctually turned my back to the source of the firing, a futile gesture should something be coming toward me, especially something as large as a tank shell. There was no place to hide on this flat plain. Another boom. "Not to worry," the guide chuckled merrily, "the Israelis are firing into the distant lagoons we just visited, not at us. We won't be hit, trust me. We watched as the first shell exploded, spewing out a plume of white smoke.

That was the shelling, maybe from a tank, maybe from artillery. While roaming thru the Bedouin encampment or village, our driver stopped to show us 2 empty shells, he intended that I photograph him holding the shells. They were huge, about 25 cm in diameter, maybe 1 m long, and heavy. They'd landed in the sand without exploding; someone had dug them out and removed the powder.

The rifle shooting happened later. Luckily we had ended our tour and entered the OCHA compound to slow down, cool off, and download my day's photos into a computer. Within minutes of arrival, we heard shots nearby, the army or police have a center next to the UN compound. Again and again, more and more, going on for several hours. The OCHA compound is probably one of the best spots for sitting out this insane factional violence that is now mushrooming in Gaza. We were on top of the news, learned just after it had happened that the driver of a Jordanian diplomat had been shot in the head and died, probably in cross fire. Some 4-5 were injured, all taken to Shifa hosp where I'd photographed a few days earlier, and all were only lightly injured.

How to get home, was one question I had. Wait for the shooting to stop, run and hope, sleep in the compound overnight, or somehow get a ride? The outcome was a welcome ride home, another gift from the deity, a huge white armored UN SUV. Easy ride home, just a few blocks, no shooting now. I managed only to make a few dull photos of and from the SUV.

As a photographer I am torn between the survival of colleagues, and myself and being close enough to the action, the shelling or shooting, to show something dramatic. In both cases of the day's danger and test, I was too far from the action to show much that would be interesting. Too bad, and yet, I'm alive, for now. During the shooting I was doing my email on Hamada's computer while downloading my photos. I happened to be replying to Sara Burke at Peacework . She'd asked if I could send them a high-resolution photo. Answering, I mentioned my situation, hoping to fill them in on local color, without alarming them unnecessarily.

Now, what has been the local response to the internal shooting, local political faction fighting?

One day later, while driving from one site to another, Ibrihim S stopped us for a visit to the students he'd help organize to quell the violence. They wore masks with lettering about peace, and some were noosed, as if to suggest "we are killing ourselves." Many signs were in English, and spoke of reconciliation, peace and the to the end of the internal violence. The students seemed eager to have me photograph, and some told me excitedly of their experience the previous day, during the heaving rifle fire, the first of a string of days of protest. They were near the firing. They had to choose their location carefully, and occasionally took cover behind a bank building. One woman claimed the shooters would not want to hit the students because of the subsequent negative publicity, but shots have a way of claiming innocent lives, as happened with the Jordanian driver.

LINKS

"Israel 'to step up Gaza shelling,'" BBC, April 2006

"Palestinians die of wounds from IDF shelling," May 26, 2006, Jerusalem Post

"Hamas pulls controversial militia from streets of Gaza," May 26, 2006, Jerusalem Post