February 18, 2020
Fabric of Memory
How many times are we supposed to rebuild Gaza? How often are we supposed to memorize a new geography? How many new geographies will Gaza “wear” each year?
Nobody knows the answer to these questions, and maybe it's not even necessary, as these intuitive questions will find many possible answers and raise other questions about what is happening in Gaza.
The imposed, hated “renewal” is a perpetual story with ongoing wars that affect everyone and everything alike – human beings, creatures, and things.
Every two years, Gaza is forced to take off its old robe and put on a new architectural dress; the clothes-changing and the adaptation to it are exhausting and impoverishing Gaza more every time. Instead, it is longing for
stability and continuity on the map.
Gaza has become a space that has no routine at all: when it's war, it's difficult to call it war, and living repeatedly through such radical transformation makes it almost impossible to cope, time after time, with a profoundly altered
geography. The course of the streets, the shape of the houses, everything is different now. Here was a street surrounding a public park, and there was a hotel next to a tower, and an apartment building hosting a grocery store on its ground floor. Everything has changed!
A few years ago, there had also been a hospital, a government department, an institution, and a branch street open to another street... none of it is left.