A medic with the Palestine Red Crescent Society carries an injured child to a hospital in the southern Gaza Strip town of Rafah following an Israeli air strike before a five-hour ceasefire went into effect on 17 July. (Photo: Eyad Al Baba / APA images)

July 17^th, 2014

3:22 PM PST

A medic with the Palestine Red Crescent Society carries an injured child to a hospital in the southern Gaza Strip town of Rafah following an Israeli air strike before a five-hour ceasefire went into effect on 17 July. (Photo: Eyad Al Baba / APA images)

July 17^th, 2014

3:22 PM PST

The following conversation took place moments ago between MECA staff member, Ziad Abbas in Berkeley, and Dr. Mona El- Farra in Gaza, as the Israel launched its ground invasion.

Today, 3 more children from the same family were killed. At least 229 people and 44 children have been killed in the last 10 days according to UN figures.

Dr. Mona El- Farra:  I’m surviving. But it seems as of an hour ago, another war has just begun.

ME:  I am staying in Al-Remal, near the center of the Gaza Strip.  I came to stay with two elderly friends that are ill. They asked me to be with them since I am a physician and their chronic diseases have made them very scared for their lives.  Especially since they live on the 6^th floor of a 7 story building with no electricity and or working elevator. Plus, perhaps other families in the building will feel better knowing there is a doctor in the building.   

Wait, wait! The bombing is very close! (pause and sounds of bombing) It’s very close.  The whole building is shaking again, very badly!

(pause)

They are bombing from the air, sea and ground.  I can hear continuous bombing.  The building is constantly shaking. It could very well be that this is the end.

ME:  When you hear these sounds and feel the shaking of the building under you, it means any moment could mean your death.  You cannot think of anything other than what that would be like. We are surrounded by death, from the air to the sea and the ground.  A few minutes ago our neighbors got a call from the Israeli military that they are going to bomb the home three hundred feet from me.  So we decided to move from the living room, another room thirty feet to the east, which might be safer.  But no place is safe right now.

ME:  No, no, no, no. Please stay on the line with me; I’m scared.  It is a terrible day.  I can’t believe this is happening around us.  It’s as if we are living in a nightmare or a horror film. You know, I came to this building this evening thinking that I could rest.  I changed my clothes hoping to relax.  But when they started bombing I changed my clothes again to be prepared in case for anything that might happen.

I have two small bags—one with my keys and passports, money and important documents and the other smaller bag with my medicine that I carry with me at all times like antibiotics and other such.  I carry the medicine with me at all times in case anyone needs immediate help.  This would be similar to the Bay Area and people preparing themselves in the case of an earthquake or natural disaster. But nothing about this disaster is natural.    

ME:  No, there’s no time.  We had five hours (the temporary ceasefire) and I used the time to work with the MECA team to distribute milk and supplies to 300 families.  I am really tired, you know,  and just couldn’t go to check on my house because were just to busy.  I feel that I carry a duty on my shoulders, and I did my duty.  And I only ran back here afterwards because they were begging me to come and stay with them.

You know, Ziad, I can move around. I don’t have children with me—they are grown-—but I can only imagine how it is for families and their children surrounded by these type of horrific sounds and destruction.  I was speaking with my nephew today and he told me that his 4-year-old son awoke screaming running to his father during the night after the sound of the bombs.  The father wanted to ease his fears and said, “Don’t be scared, this is fireworks.”  And the boy responded, “I don’t like fireworks anymore.  I don’t like these kind of fireworks.”  What Israel is doing is not just killing people; it is traumatizing generations.

ZA:  Dr Mona, I know the situation is very hard, but I need to ask, how are people managing the day-to-day?

ME:  I talked with many people today and one of the main concerns is the issue of water. Many neighborhoods can’t access water at all because they bombed the infrastructure and water lines. And people living in buildings like this can’t get water because there’s no electricity to pump it.  We have a few bottles of water with us right now, and this is what other people are doing—storing and rationing what water they can find in anything that will hold water. 

My God, the sounds are crazy! It is a combination of bombing, the sounds of helicopters and  F-16s and various sounds from all directions!

I’m really scared now.  Wait, I want to check on my friends and see if they are all right. 

OK, I’m back.  Please don’t get off the phone.  Stay, stay.

ME:  Who knows?  You never get used to war. And this attack is much more intense than I can ever remember attacks being.  You never get used to death surrounding you.  In any case, I feel good about what I did today.  I did my duty today.  But what about the rest of the world? What are they doing outside while our children are dying and we are being bombed?  What is their duty? 

ZA:  Are you okay, Mona?

ME:  Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’m a strong woman, Ziad, at least sometimes.  I don’t know what it means.  I don’t know the meaning of strong anymore.  How can you be strong in this situation?   Listen, listen. Can you hear that people are knocking on the door of the apartment?  Wait. Call me back in half an hour.  (Dr. Mona hung up.)