This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/oct/01/-sp-gaza-portraits-the-one-thing-i-saved-from-the-rubble

The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
Gaza portraits: the one thing I saved from the rubble Gaza portraits: the one thing I saved from the rubble
(less than a minute earlier)
A child’s toy, a torn school book, a rolled prayer mat, some tracksuit bottoms, a battered saucepan, odd shoes – so many odd shoes – half hidden in the rubble. And the rubble itself, mountains of it: homes reduced to grey lumps of masonry, mangled metal, shards of glass.A child’s toy, a torn school book, a rolled prayer mat, some tracksuit bottoms, a battered saucepan, odd shoes – so many odd shoes – half hidden in the rubble. And the rubble itself, mountains of it: homes reduced to grey lumps of masonry, mangled metal, shards of glass.
Amid the devastation of Gaza, in the final days of this summer’s war, were survivors of the 50-day military onslaught. Families – old men, pregnant women, solemn-eyed children – stumbled about the ruins of their lives, looking for anything that could be salvaged.Amid the devastation of Gaza, in the final days of this summer’s war, were survivors of the 50-day military onslaught. Families – old men, pregnant women, solemn-eyed children – stumbled about the ruins of their lives, looking for anything that could be salvaged.
In Shujai’iya, the area of Gaza City that saw some of the worst fighting as Israeli tanks and bulldozers bludgeoned through the neighbourhood, the destruction was a vision of hell. Factories, shops, houses and apartment buildings were pulverised, streets torn up. Many families hung signs amid the rubble, bearing their names and phone numbers, and sometimes the number of rooms or people who had lived there. This was done partly with an eye to future compensation, but also a poignant marker: this was my home.In Shujai’iya, the area of Gaza City that saw some of the worst fighting as Israeli tanks and bulldozers bludgeoned through the neighbourhood, the destruction was a vision of hell. Factories, shops, houses and apartment buildings were pulverised, streets torn up. Many families hung signs amid the rubble, bearing their names and phone numbers, and sometimes the number of rooms or people who had lived there. This was done partly with an eye to future compensation, but also a poignant marker: this was my home.
In other places, shells and airstrikes had destroyed one part of a house while leaving other rooms virtually intact. Sometimes missiles tore open a view into a living room or bedroom; like a doll’s house whose facade had been opened up, you could inspect the occupant’s choice of furnishings from a distance.In other places, shells and airstrikes had destroyed one part of a house while leaving other rooms virtually intact. Sometimes missiles tore open a view into a living room or bedroom; like a doll’s house whose facade had been opened up, you could inspect the occupant’s choice of furnishings from a distance.
One day during the war, a man invited me to see the damage to his house in Gaza City. He led me up a crumbling stone staircase to the roof, where nine people, including six children, had been killed when a missile struck as they were making pizza. Only after we had inched our way down to the ground floor did he tell me that his wife and four children were among the dead. “I have lost everything,” he said.One day during the war, a man invited me to see the damage to his house in Gaza City. He led me up a crumbling stone staircase to the roof, where nine people, including six children, had been killed when a missile struck as they were making pizza. Only after we had inched our way down to the ground floor did he tell me that his wife and four children were among the dead. “I have lost everything,” he said.
But some managed to retrieve a few possessions. These photographs, taken by the charity ActionAid in the days following the 25 August ceasefire, show a pitiful clutch of items cherished by their owners. In Gaza – after three wars in the past six years – you learn fast to hold tight to small things.But some managed to retrieve a few possessions. These photographs, taken by the charity ActionAid in the days following the 25 August ceasefire, show a pitiful clutch of items cherished by their owners. In Gaza – after three wars in the past six years – you learn fast to hold tight to small things.