As recently as Saturday, I wasn't sure I'd make it into Gaza. While most of the recent demonstrations and clashes have been in Jerusalem, Gaza hasn't been entirely free of conflict either. The Mercy Corps security team wanted to wait until the last minute to give us the green light. So, we decided to set out early Monday morning, arriving at Gaza around 8am, when we would get the final OK. If it didn't feel right, we'd just turn around and go back to Jerusalem, trying again the next day.
But, all was quiet and, indeed, there was almost no one around at the crossing into Gaza. Unfortunately, no pictures were allowed. The Israeli checkout building is a huge airport-like terminal, built for the days when thousands of Gazan workers would exit every day to work in the surrounding farms. But, since the Second Intifada (Sept. 2000), this border has essentially been closed to all but a select group of Gazans and to the many NGO workers.
The process of going through the Israeli side was straightforward. Lots of questions from a stern, middle-aged woman who looked you in the eye and asked what you were going to be doing. "What is this 'SkyGeeks'? What do they do? What will you be doing there? When do you leave Gaza? Israel?" All under her unwavering eye, with occasional glances at your passport to make sure you weren't morphing into somebody else under her withering glare.
Then a long walk down an open-air walkway (maybe 1km?) to meet our driver.
Then there was a cursory checkin with Fatah, who despite losing an election and a war with Hammas, still enjoys the fiction that they control who comes and goes into Gaza. Then a more rigorous checkin with Hamas, and ... we're in.
The contrast with bustling, prosperous Israel just outside, with its sleek coffee shops and high speed expressways, was striking. Inside, Gaza is still recovering from the July, 2014 war with Israel. The poverty is obvious.
Since the border closing at the beginning of the aughts, an ordinary Gazan is unlikely to get a visa to leave, making the Strip a giant open air prison. Most people, particularly the young, have spent their entire lives in there and have never left, not even once.
But, all was quiet and, indeed, there was almost no one around at the crossing into Gaza. Unfortunately, no pictures were allowed. The Israeli checkout building is a huge airport-like terminal, built for the days when thousands of Gazan workers would exit every day to work in the surrounding farms. But, since the Second Intifada (Sept. 2000), this border has essentially been closed to all but a select group of Gazans and to the many NGO workers.
The process of going through the Israeli side was straightforward. Lots of questions from a stern, middle-aged woman who looked you in the eye and asked what you were going to be doing. "What is this 'SkyGeeks'? What do they do? What will you be doing there? When do you leave Gaza? Israel?" All under her unwavering eye, with occasional glances at your passport to make sure you weren't morphing into somebody else under her withering glare.
Then a long walk down an open-air walkway (maybe 1km?) to meet our driver.
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| The long walk into Gaza (photo from the Guardian) |
Then there was a cursory checkin with Fatah, who despite losing an election and a war with Hammas, still enjoys the fiction that they control who comes and goes into Gaza. Then a more rigorous checkin with Hamas, and ... we're in.
 |
| Near the Erez Crossing. Still lots of damage from last year's conflict with Israel. |
Since the border closing at the beginning of the aughts, an ordinary Gazan is unlikely to get a visa to leave, making the Strip a giant open air prison. Most people, particularly the young, have spent their entire lives in there and have never left, not even once.
Once at the Gaza SkyGeeks offices, they didn't waste any time putting me to work. Within minutes, I was listening in on a call with a Jordanian investor, where 4 entrepreneurs did 30 minute pitches, taking notes on the good and the bad. Next, was a session with Baskalet, a tiny startup offering mobile games with Arabic content.
Finally, I ran an hour and a half workshop on Business Models and Customer Acquisition. While I tried to speak slowly and clearly, much was lost by the audience, so we went around the room, pressing locals into service, translating the concept into Arabic. A great learning experience for all.
A brave crew stuck with me to the bitter end.
Finally, I ran an hour and a half workshop on Business Models and Customer Acquisition. While I tried to speak slowly and clearly, much was lost by the audience, so we went around the room, pressing locals into service, translating the concept into Arabic. A great learning experience for all.
A brave crew stuck with me to the bitter end.
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