Lady K's blog

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The eternal struggle

I was watching TV couple days ago when I found a TV show talking about Ghaza in Palestine. They interviewed people from there about their misery. I listened to the story of one girl and then I changed the channel because it was more than I could handle, it was sad and touching.


That girl was studying in the United States, and she suffered for three years to get her papers and to get the scholarship because her parents can’t afford the university coasts.

After those three years she came back to her hometown to visit her family. In her words, she found Ghaza getting from bad to worse. She couldn’t find the way to her house since most of the buildings were destroyed.


When she was getting back to the Unites states, she had to go to Egypt as always. The borders between the two countries weren’t always open, so she waited there for 24 hours because the time of the opening was not announced. When it opened it was crowded with students, sick people who had to go to Egypt for treatment and with people who are working there. It was her turn, when the Palestinian side sealed her passport but once she arrived to the Egyptian side, they said that the borders were being closed and that she needed to wait until the next opening that would be in maybe a week, two or maybe more.


By doing that they destroyed her future, she lost her scholarship and her papers since she got late for classes, and by doing that she lost three years of working and struggling. Now she should go back and repeat the suffering and the hard working for another three years so she could get back the things she lost. She won’t get back those three years and the fruit of the work that she did, but maybe more suffering and more agonizing experiences.


I couldn’t imagine what happened to her. It isn’t her fault that she’s a Palestinian from Ghaza and that there are problems in there. I was stopping my brain from imagining myself in her place, because I do that a lot. But this time, the suffering, the struggle, all that was too much for me, that you see what you accomplished slipping away from you, like it was never there. People would say so what, she could just do it again, well it’s not that easy. Maybe she got the easiest part, but let me take you to those other people that were with her at the borders. I’m sure one of them was going to work, and he was fired for not showing up, he got maybe more kids that we could imagine and they would starve and won’t go to school because he can’t pay, remember he got fired.

And I’m sure that one of them was sick and got to go to the hospital, but then he got worse because he couldn’t go, and he might be dead by now.


Sometimes I thank God for living the quiet, secure life that I’m living, and sometimes I feel guilty seeing other people not being capable to have the normal casual daily life that we have. God help them.


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