As I have done every evening for the past four months, I am updating the kite and balloon arson fires in the Facebook group I monitor, Life on the Border. It’s Thursday evening. Apparently there were no (official) balloon or kite sparked fires today. But as I have done for the past four months of Thursdays, I go to sleep uncomfortably waiting to see what Friday-after-prayers-in-Gaza holds for our area.
Despite the write-ups about allowing hundreds of trucks into Gaza through the newly-reopened Kerem Shalom border crossing, despite the opening of the seas to Gaza’s fishermen, despite the messages from Israeli politicians about the cease fire that is being woven and the apparent peace-that-is-about-to-break-out-any-minute, the news from the other side sounds different. I am reading that the Fatah will not agree to the conditions, that the Islamic Jihad will not agree, that the agreement is strengthening the Hamas and giving the message that violence pays off, that… that… that…….
Every weekend for the past four months, Fridays have been days when people who live here know that the air could fill with black tire smoke or tear gas floating on a miscalculated wind. We know that casualties from protesters thowing rocks, molotov cocktails, launching balloons or even shooting live ammunition could spark another wave of rockets, potentially propelling us into another escallation of violence that takes us from zero to 100 in a nano-second. Way faster than hearts are capable of absorbing.