Under Siege: A Syrian Diary
A day in Homs
As usual, the sounds of shelling woke me up this morning.
As usual, the sounds of shelling woke me up this morning. I could not sleep for more than four hours in a row during the last 10 days because the shelling on my neighbourhood did not stop. Well, sometimes it could stop for two hours and, in the best case, it may stop for three hours.
Today, the shelling began at 7:10 am. Despite the fact that the shelling on our neighbourhood started in early March, our ears did not get used to the roar of the rocket missiles. The rocket, just before it falls, makes a whistling sound that is very scary. (Read More...)
In the afternoon, my sister called me crying. She read on the Internet that the street where I am residing is enduring intense shelling. I assured her that I am fine and told her that I survived a shell that fell 50 metres away from me.
Still crying, she then told me that she saw from the balcony of our parents’ home a large number of soldiers holding pictues of Assad heading towards the neighbourhood I am staying in.
She said she felt like going outside to stand in front of the road and block them from coming to my neighbourhood.
The phone line was then cut because network coverage in my neighbourhood is very weak. Sometimes the network is non-existent.
But the good news is that water is finally back today after five days of being cut. I went without a shower during those five days.
My friend invited me to shower at his place because he had diesel fuel, the material used in Syria to heat the water.
After my shower, I went to the field hospital. I have been volunteering there since the beginning of the revolution.
I was surprised to find eight injured today; some of them were lying on beds, while the others were on the floor.
I opened the door of one narrow room to find the doctor performing a surgery on one of the patients. He yelled at me when I opened the door. He said: “The room is already not sterilised so don’t add insult to injury. The patient may survive the surgery, but he may not survive the germs that entered into his body from the atmosphere.”
I left the hospital more mentally stressed than physically. The blood and the body parts I see always unsettle me. On the way back home with my friend on the motorbike, a shell fell right behind us. It was so close.
We believe that the power of God protects us. This was probably another message from God that I should correct my mistakes and have a better relation with people around me.