As days were slipping into summer days, twenty tanks, 4 bulldozers, and
2
Apaches invaded Hay Salaam area on the border of Rafah, demolishing
four
houses, 3 farms, and a garden.

The damage is as follows:

In Hay Salaam area:
Husein Qeshta, 30 olive trees
from the al-Shaer family, 30 olive trees
Owad al-Shaer, 100 olive trees
Muhammed Abu Salah, a garden with mango, lemon, guava trees
Husein Abd il-Aal, one floor, 160 square meter house (8 people)
Mohammed Abd il-Aal, two floors (10 people)

At 11:30 PM, Israeli forces cut the electricity in all of Rafah. By
midnight, the sound of Apaches filled the city center. The operation
continued until 4:30 AM; needless to say no one along the invaded areas
got any sleep.

We visited Abu Ahmed this morning, an good friend of ours and
everybody's
grandfather. Last night's invasion cleared the entire area between his
home and Dr. Sameer's home one-hundred meters down the border. He was
less animated than usual as he ushered us inside. "Ten tanks here, ten
here," he motionned to me from his window. "I shine my light at them,
on-off-on-off-on-off, like this," he holds his flashlight up. Its
light
is pale in the morning. It's a last resort tactic, we both know, if
they
came to demolish Abu Ahmed's home there's little his weak flashlight
could
do. Only the hope they might notice (or care) that there were people
inside and wait for them to leave before beginning demolition.

Abu Ahmed walks to the store on his bad leg and cane just to bring us
cola, even when we know he'd rather drink tea. We sit together in the
stale morning-after air.

The two demolished houses had been abandonned before the invasion - one
family left two months back and one only a week ago, when the constant
gunfire finally became too much to handle. Many families in threatened
homes continue to live there as long as they can handle it, because
once
they leave their homes are marked more imminently than ever for
demolition.

A garden full of mango, guava, lemon trees and flowers, was demolished,
along with a water tank belonging to the same family. The man who
owned
it has American citizenship, works in Gaza City, and stays near his
work
most of the time to avoid Abu Holi checkpoint.

It is no longer surprising to anyone here that American citizens get
treated as Palestinians. It has been clear for ages that America does
not
take care of its own, much less those who come from such forgotten
places
as Rafah. As US passport holders, we have been advised by our embassy
to
leave the area. It is our own fault for being there if we are injured;
our country has aligned itself nicely with Israel's new policy of
disclaiming any responsibility for human life in the Gaza Strip.

Beyond the buffer zone you can see Egypt, the green reminder of a
better
life elsewhere, only fifty meters away, fifty meters you are forbidden
to
walk under penalty of death. Fifty meters that used to hold Abu
Ahmed's
farm before it was demolished nine months ago. A flourishing farming
town, as Rafah once was, transformed tree by demolished tree into some
dark futuristic world where Apaches rule the night.

**I'm sending photos from this incursion through our Ofoto account. If
you receive an "Ofoto Invitation" in the mail it is not junk.


For questions, comments, or to unsubscribe, write to  horia@riseup.net

useful websites:
www.mezan.org
www.rafah.vze.com
www.palsolidarity.org
www.electronicintifada.net

And, for a map of the "Seperation Wall" (separating Palestinians...
from
their land) in the West Bank, see
 http://www.gush-shalom.org/thewall/index.html

In the dark times,
Will there also be singing?
Yes, there will be singing,
About the dark times.
--Bertolt Brecht