Thursday 23/11/2023

A quiet and harsh day. Since the early morning, we can only hear the sounds of some rockets falling on our heads. It is a normal day in an abnormal place. A day that reminds us of our old routines. Friends came to visit my father, then we ate together and then everyone went there separate ways. I went to the oven to bake some bread with my cousins. Our journey began with the long queue, waiting for our turn to come. 

Ahead of me was a child on their own. I asked him why he was alone, and he said that his brother and sister in law were staying in a tent and sent him there. He said: "I really don't know." We waited and waited, and it was already midnight, and the boy's turn came. He had been complaining the whole time of the long wait and the aches in his feet. I started to help him with the baking, and when he was done, it was our turn. 

While we were baking, a woman asked us, my cousin and I, how many kids we had, and we laughed and said 15.  She laughed even harder and said, "I don't believe it." 

My aunt was baking on the other side, and we divided the bread in half so it wouldn't take too long - even though there is a big group of us. 

Besides, there was a man who held a piece of dough in his hands and placed it on the electric oven and said: "This is an 'oqah' "which is a chocolate-filled cake. So I said it's a Gazan oqah and another man said: "No, it's from Khan Younis" so I said: "It is all Gaza Strip." 

When we were almost done, I joked with my aunt that the kids would be hungry by now since it was 1 am. So the man looked at me and said: "I saw you baking on the other side.' I said: 'It seems you're watching me!". So everyone laughed loudly. I asked the man his name and he said: "Bassam", and I said: "Blessings Uncle", and we headed back to the school.