we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights

Shakespeare in Gaza: rejected but still in love

How can I describe it? After I was ordered to return to Gaza, I wished I could evaporate or cease to exist.
Rafah Crossing
The infamous Rafah crossing (photo by Mahmoud Khalaf)

Like the vast majority of students in Gaza, traveling abroad to pursue further education has always been my ultimate goal. I studied more than 10 hours a day in my last year of high school, hoping to win a scholarship to study in Europe. However, when that dream was not realized, my excellent grades allowed me to hold my head high with honor, and I enrolled in the Islamic University of Gaza—the pre-eminent universities here. 

I worked even harder in university, which helped me finish my first year at the top of my cohort with a cumulative GPA of 91.5 percent. This pushed me to continue pursuing my dream of travelling outside Gaza to experience a new life and education. Therefore, I applied for a student exchange program called Erasmus Mundus in my second year. 

Good news
Last summer, after long months of waiting and hoping, the results were released and I was offered a 12-month opportunity to study in one of the best universities in Spain, Universidade de Santiago de Compostela.

I raced out of my room breathlessly to communicate the good news, and the first one I told was my mother. She was asleep, but woke up at the sound of my steps, asking before I could utter a word: "Did they release the results? Are you accepted in the program?" 

"Yes, my dream has finally become a reality," I shouted. Her eyes filled with tears of joy and she congratulated me. 

Unlike anywhere else in the world, however, winning a scholarship is always the easiest part of the process in Gaza.  The difficulties come later. Obtaining my visa to enter Spain required many documents from the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank; therefore, it cost me a lot of money and time due to the conflict between Hamas in Gaza and the PA in the West Bank. The Israeli blockade of Gaza made the process even harder. 

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Mahmoud waiting fruitlessly to be allowed into Egypt 

My dream, however, was worth the time, money and effort and I tried to remain optimistic. After exactly 45 days of waiting, I received the visa. It was the last few days in which the Rafah crossing into Egypt remained open. I had very little time to obtain the next round of permissions so that I could exit Gaza. However, I at last received permission to travel through Rafah from the Ministry of Interior in Gaza, and I made all of the necessary arrangements with my university in Spain. I also visited my relatives and friends to see them one more time.

A bittersweet journey 

Traveling out of Gaza is dramatically different than anywhere else in the world. I was excited at the thought of finally so close to setting foot in Spain. The people surrounding me in the bus shutting between the Palestinian and Egyptian sides of the crossing talked happily about their upcoming travel, their host universities or the medical treatment they hoped to receive in Egypt. I told them about the play in which I had appeared, Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, and my role as Bassanio — a gentleman who is in love and has to borrow money from the ruthless Shylock. It was easy to distinguish us, the students, from the other types of travelers. We were energetic and full of zeal, talking and laughing loudly, and sharing food together in circles. We felt like a real family as we spent the first four hours together on the Palestinian side, then 11 more hours on the Egyptian side.

But then the unexpected happened. An Egyptian officer called my name at midnight, and I hurried to him with anticipation.

"Tell me! Am I traveling in the morning?" I asked.

"No. Collect your bags and follow me; you're returning to your house now," the officer snapped with a frown. 

How can I describe it? It was a moment of unfathomable stillness in which I saw all of my plans and dreams demolished before my eyes. It was excruciating beyond what all words in the world can describe, tearing my heart into a million fragments. It was the most unforgettable moment in my life, for on that day, I felt two extremely different feelings I never knew existed: I began the day wondering, "Is a human being really able to gather this amount of happiness in his tiny heart?" And now, after I was ordered to return to Gaza, I wished I could evaporate or cease to exist. The officer's poisonous heart-shattering words consumed my soul, devoured my dreams and froze every drop of blood in my veins, rendering me speechless. To this day, I have no idea why I was rejected.

Hope and frustration 

On that day, more than 80 persons were denied the right to enter Egypt and forced to return to Gaza. They included students and patients — women and men of all ages. 

The most moving and sad thing I witnessed during my stay on the Egyptian side was a man suffering from cancer and wanting to travel to Egypt for treatment. The man said to his two young boys, "I am traveling for treatment in Egypt. They think they will grant me life there. But you're my real life; I'd die without you." I was very moved by his words and wished him a quick recovery and a long life with his lovely boys. 

Another sad story was of a man with hepatitis and his wife. I spent hours next to that tender couple as they waited for permission to enter Egypt. The woman told me it was their third attempt to enter Egypt, and again it might be in vain. It was genuinely heartwarming that both of them kept praying for me and addressed me as "my son." However, I had to return home before I learned whether they were finally successful.

Reading Shakespeare in Gaza

I reached my home in Gaza at 1 a.m. My family was still awake, waiting for news from me. That night I kept thinking about the words of Shylock, the Jewish merchant, from Shakespeare's "Merchant of Venice.” Here is what his soliloquy would be like if the word "Jew" were substituted with "Palestinian" and "Christian" with "Israeli": 

He hath disgraced me, and
hindered me half a million;
laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, 
 scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, 
 cooled my friends, heated mine enemies; 
and what's his reason? I am a Palestinian. 
Hath not a Palestinian eyes? 
Hath not a Palestinian hands, organs,
  dimensions, senses, affections, passions? 
Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons,
  subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means,
  warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as an Israeli is? 
If you prick us, do we not bleed?
If you tickle us, do we not laugh?
 If you poison us, do we not die?…."

 

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An actor plays the role of Shylock

Students of Gaza are like Shylock and his community; they are made to feel they are sub-human and are denied many fundamental rights, like the right to pursue their education in other countries. 

Yet Gazans insist on teaching the world life. We are strong and steadfast as we face ferocious wars and a paralyzing blockade. I have observed this resilience and embrace of life throughout my journey. 

What happened to me was just a little stumble in comparison. And it brought to mind the words of Steven Jobs when he addressed the graduates of Stanford University: "I have been rejected, but I was still in love." Jobs described dropping out of school and later being fired from Apple, his own company, as the best things that could ever happen to him — a bit baffling, yet true. Like winners in life, he never gave up on his goals and he gained experience that prepared him well for future challenges and the obstacle he would encounter along the way.

I didn't make it to Spain that time, but I am even more determined than ever. The program promised I could try again this year, and try I will. As Percy Shelly, an English writer and romantic poet, said: "The best is yet to come."  

Mentor: Zeina Azzam
Posted March 13, 2016

  

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