Day 3 - May 23, 2009

First day at the border! It didn't start out so well - we had thought that the Red Crescent Society would be escorting us (as Sandra discussed with them last night) but they didn't show up. They bus was over an hour late, and we weren't sure whether or not the police would take us to the border. They did, however, and we were able to pass all the checkpoints easily. They drove us right up to the gate and we were promptly told to park at the side.
Sonia, one of the British hunger strikers, quickly came up to our bus. She has been there for 53 days now, staying overnight for 20 and striking for 4. Her and her husband, Nicholas, are the only two left as the rest had to return to work. They have been trying to set up a cardiac unit in Gaza city, and were doing so successfully until their ability to enter Gaza had been cut off 53 days ago. She said that a European convoy was supposed to be coming tonight and that their names were on the list that was cleared, so hopefully they will be getting in. For now, they are sleeping on very thin foam mattresses under a tree beside the little convenience store.
Our passports were again taken and Sandra and Nabil went out to talk to the guards. There were groups of individuals waiting with their bags to get across the border. Kenana and I went into the very, very gross bathroom. As I was waiting for her, an Arab woman came in. She grabbed an old water bottle that was laying by the sink to fill with water to drink. She then came over, and once Kenana came out, asked us if we could wait for her as she did not feel safe being at the back of the store by herself. Afterwards we walked her to the front, where Kenana talked to her and later told me her story. She is 60 and had been waiting at the border for 2 weeks to get back in to see her husband and children. She is Jordanian and had been living in Gaza for 2 years. She goes into Rafah each night begging locals for a place to stay, and returns to the border each day. I saw her go up to the gate so many times only to be refused again. We gave her what we could, but else could we do? It is the Egyptians, not the Palestinians, who decide who gets into Palestine, and they clearly do not care about her.
To describe what I saw at the border and how I felt is impossible. To be able to see Gaza and yet not be able to reach it was heart wrenching. Men with huge rifles guard the gate - they were actually training while we were there, so we saw them running around pretending to shoot. There is an open passageway on the right of the gate with a single guard where we saw donkey-led trailers come in and out, with Palestinian women and children guiding them, but we don't know where they were going or what they were doing. We weren't allowed to take pictures (although I did anyways) and had to stay close to the bus unless going to the store, mosque (on the second floor of the store) or washroom. The soldiers stared at us (probably partly because, as I found out later, my long skirt was blowing up in the wind) and a few children came by to sell us almonds and figs. The border seemed solemn and desolate, and the sadness increased with every individual who was turned away. By the end of the day (we were there for at least 6 hours), we did see one group of Palestinians get in who had arrived before us, although they had carts and carts of belongings and were forced to enter by foot because no vehicles could cross with them.
Some of us sat with the hunger strikers for a while and learned what we could, others waited in the bus as it was cool and chatted amongst ourselves. Two girls came over to sell us figs and one played a game of patty cakes with Kathy - it was beautiful. Eventually, we were turned away. First, we needed clearance from the Egyptian national security. Then, we needed endorsement from the Canadian embassy (which we're clearly never going to get). After Sandra reemed a very, very large man out, we got back on the bus and the fury of phone calls started. We've been told by Codepink to stay strong and return tomorrow, which we will.

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