Humid Street

Today is 27 December this date takes me back a year ago when I was traveling by bus to the town where I had been worked, at that day the weather was cold, windy and the droplets of rain had fallen quietly from the sky. The bus arrived to the town at 6 am, so because the time was early to join my company in order to begin the work which start at 8 am I was obliged to spend the time in a coffee. After a marathon of searching I found a coffee in the center of the town my clothes were wet, my teeth were shivering my fingers were freeze, so directly I entered and I saluted the clients I said:” good morning everybody” but I was surprised that nobody responded me. Oh I understood, when I had stayed carefully isolated in the corner of the salon I saw the television which attracted people’s attention like a magnet they was silent and hyper concentrate. About me I was also attracted by this television because it was broadcasting a news channel so I was shocked by the pictures of bombes and the destruction of houses and schools, in this sad calm I heard just the cry of women, old men, and innocent children under the concrete and the falling bricks of walls which bombarded by fighter planes. The pictures bothered me and the sad ambiance suffocated me so I tried to change anything in the atmosphere of the coffee by commenting the news, so I said: “This operation is called the rain of shot; it’s planed by the snake Lieveny she said that many Arabic countries are agree with his war to kill the terrorists of Hamas”
At that time an old man wearing a Palestinian traditional scarf, as if he worn it just for that day, turned back and looked to me angrily with his small eyes hidden under the hair of his eyebrows and he said:” All this criminals with their tanks, their fighter planes and all their weapons allowed or not allowed can kill people but they can’t kill all the town “. At that time everybody looked to me and to this old man quietly as if they were deaf. The old man talked also but more sadly as soon as two tears were flowing through his cheek he said: “today I’m ashamed among my wife and my child so I can’t go back home so after the prairie of Fedjr I came to this coffee “. I responded him and I said:”You are right Sir in this day I can’t look at faces of people because I’m young and I have a physical power like millions of Arabic juniors, but they can’t do anything because Arab governments close all gates in the face of each person who decide to help victims and orphans of this unequal and illegal war”.
Suddenly the waiter came and asked if he could serve me I respond him:” No Mr. how can I drink a coffee or tea in this day? What is the taste of tea? I think that there is no taste however you make sugar the tea or coffee are bitter”. The waiter with a sad and yellow smile apologized, but an adult with a strong body making a lot of bad and terrible smokes with his cigarette screamed and pointed out to me , he said:” O you, young man you say a lot of lies , you simulate the sadness now than you go to another coffee or tearoom and you watch clips and movies and you enjoy your self with watching dancing girls with their exciting wears, I thing that all Arabic people forget their real problems and cases because they are interest in football, video clips, movies and series, your duty is to work hard and ameliorate the productivity in your job. Your comment about this war we listen it everyday and in different channels so nothing new or useful on your speech.” At that time another man who looks humorous said:” The channels of clips will continue their productions or they stop to respect our feelings? I thing that they have a lot of new clips….”
After making me fun by this boring man I feel the sorrows, and the glad is streaming hardly in my heart and my had so I exited the coffee and I had walking in the humid street with my heavy bag, the drizzling drops beat painfully my face and made my clothes, my hair and my bag wet, the sunrise was very late and brought a grey color which overwhelmed the town. A short and silent movement had began in the town after a long darkness but with this grey color and this silence I understand that the town is sad because of his solidarity with another loved sister, this sister is Ghaza the town of honor and resistance.
As soon as I was walking I stopped a taxi I said to the driver:” please sir don’t open radio and don’t talk about today’s news”. The driver with a yellow smile said:” I understand your feelings and I’m angry, believe me Sir if I have a power I travel to Ghaza with my car to help people there ,this car with which I bring the food of my children, but I think many persons know this town today when it undergo this violent attack, about me I was interested by its news months ago when it was isolated by the power of Israelian without food ,without water , without learning, without medical assist without…..”
Suddenly I said:” That enough Sir we are arrive take your money and thank you very much, and don’t worry Ghaza stay everyday free and the symbol of honor and resistance, they can’t kill it however their power. Good luck”.
I entered in the company I tried to forget the events which I faced at that sad morning but a lot of voices were jingling like a bell in my ears so I couldn’t forget, until now I remember and I can’t forget./.