Cooking in Gaza is now a toxic relationship Israel’s conflict and the two

In Gaza, we have the sounds of fear and anxiety. We know them well: the drone of drones in the sky of drones, and the ambulance will scream in the narrow streets, the stereotypes of the military aircraft, the thunder of the bombings, the screams of people trapped under the rubble and now a new voice: the acute tanning of empty gas cylinders.

We are used to know very well click to start a gas stove stove – that small spark at the beginning of the day, which means a hot meal or a cup of tea. Now, this sound is over, the hollow crossbar is replaced by the void.

We used the last drop of cooking gas in the middle of Ramadan. Like all other families in Gaza, we turned into firewood. I remember my mother, saying, “From today, we cannot even make a cup of tea for Suhour.”

This is because the start of the fire, even that the presence of a flash of light at night can attract a drone or a vukopter, which leads to a air strike or a bulletproof. We do not know why light is targeting at night, but we know that we have no right to ask.

So we ate cold food for Ohur and we saved the fire for breakfast.

After the bakeries were closed due to the gas shortage last month, dependence on the fire – not only for our family but for everyone. Many people built temporary mud furnaces, fires in the alleys or between tents to bake the baking loaves.

Dip black smoke is heavy hanging in the air – not death smoke from missiles, but the smoke of life that kills us slowly.

Every morning, we wake up coughing – not a passing cough, but rather a deep and continuous cough that suffocates in our boxes.

Then, my brother and I walk on the edge of our area, where the wood man sells from the back of a cart. It was collected by bombing buildings, fallen trees, broken furniture, home ruins and schools.

We return everything that our weak bodies can and move to the following suffering: burning wood. This is not easy. It requires hours of cutting and breaking wood and breathing in dust. Our father, despite its meanings from shortness of breath, insists on help. This stubbornness has become one of his daily arguments, especially between him and my brother.

While we light the fire, our eyes turn red due to smoke, and to our throat. The cough is intensified.

Firewood has become incredibly expensive. Before the war, we will pay a dollar for eight kilograms, but you can now buy only one kilo – or even less – for this price.

Poverty forced many people to cut their trees. Green spaces have disappeared in our area. Many of our neighbors have begun to reduce the trees that they had in their arenas. We even started using branches of our olive tree – the same tree that we did not dare to touch when we were young, we are afraid that the inconvenience will lead to the fall of flowers and lead to fewer olives.

Families who have no trees to cut turned into burning plastic, rubber and garbage – anything that will be satisfied. But burning these substances release toxic fumes, poisoning the air they breathe and sneak into the food they cook. The taste of plastic sticks to every bite, and turns each meal into a healthy danger.

Continuous exposure to this smoke can cause severe respiratory smoke and chronic diseases and even lead to life -threatening diseases such as cancer. However, what is the choice of people? Without fire, there is no food.

There is a very harsh thing about the transformation of the kitchen – from the family and hospitality symbol to a toxic area. Fire that now meant warmth burns our lungs and eyes. Badly cooked meals can not be named: the soup of lentils; Bread of flour or flour mixed with sand. The joy of preparing food has been replaced with fear, pain and exhaustion.

This lack of cooking gas has done more than paralyzing our arrival in food – he dismantled the rituals that combine families together. Meals are no longer time to gather and enjoy family time, but time to bear it. Time for coughing. The time of prayer is that today’s fire does not make a very sick person.

If a bomb does not kill us, we are facing a slower death: calm, toxic and harsh.

This Gaza today.

A place where survival means inhaling the poison just to eat a cup of tea in the morning.

A place where firewood has become more valuable than gold.

The place where the simple eating weapon was.

However, we burn.

We are coughing.

We continue.

What is our other option?

The opinions expressed in this article are the author of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the editorial island.