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Aid in Gaza: We don’t have the words to deal with this level of suffering Aid in Gaza: We don’t have the words to deal with this level of suffering
(6 days later)
Today I came to Gaza for the first time. Despite working in the occupied Palestinian territory for almost a year, Israeli entry restrictions and a precarious security situation had prevented me from meeting my colleagues here until now.Today I came to Gaza for the first time. Despite working in the occupied Palestinian territory for almost a year, Israeli entry restrictions and a precarious security situation had prevented me from meeting my colleagues here until now.
My friends warned that I might have difficulties sleeping tonight but I felt so overwhelmed, so exhausted, that I was sure I would collapse as soon as I retreated to the comfort of my hotel room. Turns out they were right: re-imagining the trauma of others is an area where they’ve gained unwanted expertise.My friends warned that I might have difficulties sleeping tonight but I felt so overwhelmed, so exhausted, that I was sure I would collapse as soon as I retreated to the comfort of my hotel room. Turns out they were right: re-imagining the trauma of others is an area where they’ve gained unwanted expertise.
Like most Palestinians from Gaza, not one of my colleagues has left the 45km-long, blockaded Gaza Strip since the last war ended 10 months ago. After living and working through through that brutal 51-day war, they began the business of picking up the pieces of their own lives and that of their broken cities – all in the very well-grounded fear that the next war is only a matter of time.Like most Palestinians from Gaza, not one of my colleagues has left the 45km-long, blockaded Gaza Strip since the last war ended 10 months ago. After living and working through through that brutal 51-day war, they began the business of picking up the pieces of their own lives and that of their broken cities – all in the very well-grounded fear that the next war is only a matter of time.
Related: One month after the ceasefire, how is Gaza being rebuilt?Related: One month after the ceasefire, how is Gaza being rebuilt?
Most people don’t realise that the frontline of humanitarian response is staffed by people from the place where the crisis is playing out. The idea of internationals jetting in to the rescue is largely illusory. Usually, when the real crisis hits, the internationals are evacuated and the locals are left to play the grim hand they’ve been dealt.Most people don’t realise that the frontline of humanitarian response is staffed by people from the place where the crisis is playing out. The idea of internationals jetting in to the rescue is largely illusory. Usually, when the real crisis hits, the internationals are evacuated and the locals are left to play the grim hand they’ve been dealt.
How people endure while war ravages their lives is beyond my comprehension. I rationally understand that it is a matter of survival, of necessity, but the reality is so far from my human experience that I cannot begin to imagine it. Much less can I imagine where people finds the strength to come to work in the middle of a war and distribute food parcels and emergency kits to the displaced while they worry for the safety of their families at home. How people endure while war ravages their lives is beyond my comprehension. I rationally understand that it is a matter of survival, of necessity, but the reality is so far from my human experience that I cannot begin to imagine it. Much less can I imagine where people find the strength to come to work in the middle of a war and distribute food parcels and emergency kits to the displaced while they worry for the safety of their families at home.
Today is the first day my colleagues have been able to talk to someone from outside about what they lived through nine months ago. I am their connection to the outside world; the one person they can talk to who is not also dealing with horrors of her own.Today is the first day my colleagues have been able to talk to someone from outside about what they lived through nine months ago. I am their connection to the outside world; the one person they can talk to who is not also dealing with horrors of her own.
One by one, they share their stories with me. I already know the facts and figures. I’ve prepared myself for the sheer mass of destroyed buildings; but I couldn’t prepare myself for this. Stories of leaving homes with children in arms, not knowing where to go. Of losing loved ones because they couldn’t be evacuated for proper medical treatment. Of being a 28-year-old man – my age – whose life can be mapped by intifadas and wars. Of being a 31-year-old woman estranged from her family, alone for the first time in this third war in six years. Of being unable to travel outside Gaza to feel momentarily safe in her father’s arms.One by one, they share their stories with me. I already know the facts and figures. I’ve prepared myself for the sheer mass of destroyed buildings; but I couldn’t prepare myself for this. Stories of leaving homes with children in arms, not knowing where to go. Of losing loved ones because they couldn’t be evacuated for proper medical treatment. Of being a 28-year-old man – my age – whose life can be mapped by intifadas and wars. Of being a 31-year-old woman estranged from her family, alone for the first time in this third war in six years. Of being unable to travel outside Gaza to feel momentarily safe in her father’s arms.
After listening to each of them I tell them I don’t have words to respond, because people aren’t supposed to have to endure such horrors. Their gratitude for my simple act of bearing witness is hard to accept.After listening to each of them I tell them I don’t have words to respond, because people aren’t supposed to have to endure such horrors. Their gratitude for my simple act of bearing witness is hard to accept.
Tonight, I lie awake in bed wondering what to do with all this. My usual range of emotions – anger, fear, sadness – are inadequate. I feel numb and distant, drifting between consciousness and sleep. Even the nightmares my psyche produces in response to the horrors of today can’t come close to what these people have lived.Tonight, I lie awake in bed wondering what to do with all this. My usual range of emotions – anger, fear, sadness – are inadequate. I feel numb and distant, drifting between consciousness and sleep. Even the nightmares my psyche produces in response to the horrors of today can’t come close to what these people have lived.
We don’t have an emotional vocabulary or an emotional response to deal with this level of human suffering. In the coming days, I speak to friends and family at home and struggle to communicate what I have understood. I speak to other humanitarians and find that they too lack the vocabulary and the tools.We don’t have an emotional vocabulary or an emotional response to deal with this level of human suffering. In the coming days, I speak to friends and family at home and struggle to communicate what I have understood. I speak to other humanitarians and find that they too lack the vocabulary and the tools.
Related: Palestine field post: 'I am not your normal human rights campaigner'Related: Palestine field post: 'I am not your normal human rights campaigner'
How do we process the injustice of the suffering of others? Locking it away in a series of tiny boxes and abstracting it into wry humour seems a common strategy. It is not hard to imagine how those boxes might pile up and overflow on the most unexpected of Tuesday mornings.How do we process the injustice of the suffering of others? Locking it away in a series of tiny boxes and abstracting it into wry humour seems a common strategy. It is not hard to imagine how those boxes might pile up and overflow on the most unexpected of Tuesday mornings.
This experience is by no means unique to humanitarians working in Palestine. The rates of post-traumatic stress and burnout stand as abundant proof that we, as a community, do not have effective strategies to deal with the emotional load we carry. The fact that the pain we experience pales in comparison to the pain of those to whom we bear witness does not diminish its power. On the contrary, such comparisons can amplify the witnesses’s burden through an overlay of guilt.This experience is by no means unique to humanitarians working in Palestine. The rates of post-traumatic stress and burnout stand as abundant proof that we, as a community, do not have effective strategies to deal with the emotional load we carry. The fact that the pain we experience pales in comparison to the pain of those to whom we bear witness does not diminish its power. On the contrary, such comparisons can amplify the witnesses’s burden through an overlay of guilt.
Those who work in this field must make conscious choices about how to unpack their boxes. Processing emotions is not a luxury or sign of weakness but an indispensable process for people who wish to remain effective in their work and intact as human beings.Those who work in this field must make conscious choices about how to unpack their boxes. Processing emotions is not a luxury or sign of weakness but an indispensable process for people who wish to remain effective in their work and intact as human beings.
Join our community of development professionals and humanitarians. Follow@GuardianGDP on Twitter.Join our community of development professionals and humanitarians. Follow@GuardianGDP on Twitter.