Ali Hamad/APA images

It’s 8 pm in Gaza, Palestine right now, the end of my fourth day in Rafah and the first moment. I’ve had to sit in a quiet place to reflect. I’ve tried to take notes, photos, mental images, but this moment is too big for a notepad or my struggling memory. Nothing prepared me for what I would witness.

Before I made it across the Rafah-Egypt border, I read every bit of news coming out of Gaza or about Gaza. I did not look away from any video or image posted from the ground, no matter how gruesome, shocking, or traumatizing.

I kept in touch with friends who reported on their situations in the north, middle and south of Gaza – each area suffering in different ways. I stayed current on the latest statistics, the latest political, military and economic maneuverings of Israel, the US and the rest of the world. I thought I understood the situation on the ground. But I didn’t. Here