Last night, I dreamed I was in Gaza. I woke up to Noor's crying and shot out of bed.
It takes a while for my faucet to switch from cold to hot. But the hot water feels better in the winter. Every time I take a warm shower, I think of Gaza. Of the days we had no warm water. Or any water for that matter. Every singal time I take a shower I think of Gaza.
I haven't heard from my parents in two days- unusual considering we are usually on Skype daily.
So I call my father- as I suspected: the electricity has been out for 48 hours now.
"We'll make do, we always do. Just like everyone else" he says matter-of-factly. They are lucky. They are not hungry.
Others have no such faith to fall back on.
UN food distribution centers, on which nearly half of Gaza's population relies, and 20, 000 at any given time, have also shut down, their supplies depleted as a result of Israel's recent tightening of the blockade on Gaza.
Soon, there will be more pressure to get the wheels running again. People must be fed, after all; even prisoners are fed. But no matter if they lose all hope. After all, the civilized world does not invest in hope. It only invests in destroying it. Bullets are more tangible than hope. Hunger is an easier statisical indicator than disallusionment and depression and dreams.