Friday's festival gives hope for a brighter Palestinian future, writes Stuart Reigeluth from Gaza As usual after the mid-day prayer, the mosques are empty and the people of Gaza take their siestas. The kitsch wreaths of fake flowers are still on display outside the open florist shops. They sell easily in the summer season when wedding parties are celebrated every evening. But unlike other Fridays, the Chairman Arafat Shop on Omar Al-Mukhtar Street was also open: today was the first day of Palestinian festivities. "I will keep the shop open throughout the withdrawal," Tareq Abu Dayeh says. He asserts: "It is good for the Palestinian people and for business." For 20NIS ($4), he now sells newly-made white mugs claiming: "Congratulations for the withdrawal from Gaza ... and hopefully for the West Bank". For 50NIS ($11), new Palestinian flags with "Free Gaza" written in large letters across the middle white band can also be purchased. T- shirts of "Arafat -- President of Palestine", "I Love Palestine", and "Guevara -- Palestine" are all going for 25NIS ($5). All along the stone breakwater of the Gaza port and on every boat in the bay, Palestinian flags are fluttering. The entrance is jammed by men, women and children climbing off buses, each holding Palestinian flags, wearing t-shirts and caps, and descending the short slope to where large fishing boats sit moored in the sand. A balloon with a photo of Mahmoud Abbas (Abu Mazen) is floating above a white banner with Arabic words of freedom, and a long row of Palestinian flags which, along with hundreds of Gazans, are to greet him when he arrives later. Boats are moving with no particular purpose in the bay, except to exhibit the freedom of movement. Mohamed Abu Khasira is grinning, holding a rope and grasping the edge of the wooden motor boat, which bounces precariously over the waves. There is singing, waving and clapping coming from a sardine boat. "This is the launch, my family boat," he says and waves back. Everyone is smiling and all greet each and every newcomer aboard. Young men are doing flips off the edge into the dirty water and lounge on the prow of the boat. The older men sit smoking in the stern. Younger boys climb up the rigging from which little Palestinian flags fan out, covering the boat in green, white, black and red. "The green boats are from Rafah," Abu Khasira says and smiles. Today is the first day in four years that boats from Rafah are allowed to travel to Gaza city. "The boats from Khan Younis are white and the ones from Gaza are yellow." The fleet of different coloured wooden boats docked in the port, zigzagging back and forth, makes for a spectacular sight. "The Israelis made us colour-code our boats in order to identify where we come from more easily." Two days ago, a fisherman went too close to the sea border and was shot in the leg by the Israeli Coast Guard. They offered to treat him in Israel, but he declined. "The Oslo Accords said we could have some miles of sea. Then the Israelis said we could have less and now they allow us even less. Since the Intifada, we can go about four kilometres out to sea." Abu Khasira says: "The Israelis regularly shoot at Palestinian fishermen. The Palestinians take off their shirts to show they have no body bombs, and often are taken to prison in Israel. Three of my cousins were taken to prison in Israel for no reason." The older man steering the boat was there for three months. The Palestinian Coast Guard passes and attempts to resemble authority. They are mocked for trying to tell the boys to get out of the water. A beeping boat goes around the bay filled with children wearing orange life-jackets. The second Intifada ended what tourism was coming to Gaza. The large empty boat that used to ship tourists around has been lying on the beach for over two years. The anchor of the launch is hauled up. The motor hiccups and drones out other sounds. People are fishing and swimming along the breakwater and the old sardine boat heads out to sea. Ramzi Anbar, a graduate from the Islamic University with a degree in nursing, sits in the stern with the older men. "We have been struggling to survive," he claims and continues: "There seems to be no logic to this life, no balance. An entire frustrated youth, the years of oppression... We live in a big cage... at the same time a small cage. This is the first day that we begin to feel this sensation and it is difficult to describe the feeling. Life in Gaza must get better now. If not, life does not deserve to be lived." Back in the bay, Abu Mazen has arrived. He is easily identifiable by all the flashes. But no one in the boat on the sea wants to go see him speaking on the land. After he finished his speech, most people walk towards the exit, but one man speaks on, surrounded by his cohort of bodyguards. The curious stand on plastic chairs to see who is repeating what Abu Mazen said. The loud- speakers make a horrible echo of the voice belonging to Mohamed Dahlan (Abu Fadi), the main Palestinian negotiator with the Israelis over the disengagement. He talks about democracy and the importance of recovering Palestinian land, and claims that the Palestinian people are united as one people; that when the settlers leave, the Palestinians will have work; that the celebrations can be happy, but that every Palestinian in Gaza must remain calm. Young men wear Palestinian flag caps and the caption beneath the portrait of Arafat on white t-shirts says: "Victory and Freedom". Other t-shirts read: "Our land returns to us... " and "Today Gaza... Tomorrow, the West Bank and Jerusalem". Vendors sell fluorescent yellow ice drinks in plastic cups and a variety of nuts in small plastic bags. Two young men stop and show the bullet wounds in their legs. Another fleet of different coloured wooden boats moves across the bay. At the exit, a group of men is waiting for the bus back to the Jabalya refugee camp. Abu Nawas says the Islamic Jihad demonstration in Jabalya went well this afternoon. His voice emphasises: "Whether the Israeli army withdraws or not to the border they imposed, the occupation of Gaza Strip will continue. We will still be in a cage, still in a prison!" Honking cars pass in the street, announcing another wedding party. Later, gun shots resonate briefly across the city. And at sunset, past the sandy lot of empty plastic chairs in the port, a father sat with his son, looking at the sea. The little boy watched the waves south of Gaza and Abu Jihad expressed that "Abu Mazen will build a new port in Gaza and a new airport in Rafah. He said the economy will grow and that opportunity will blossom."
