The city of gauze -Amani Dweima came to the salon with her 16-year-old daughter Aya.
The 39-year-old wants her eyebrows to shape her, and Aya wants a full makeup; The wedding is planned for that night after iftar.
“My niece’s wedding,” says Amani. “We celebrate the bride with a small family gathering before taking her to their tent.”
Nooor’s salon
The salon is a small blue tent with one table inside covered with a damaged mirror, a waxing tools, a moisturizer and a little makeup.
Outside the tent in the al-shujayae east of the city of Gaza, a white hand-written inscription that reads: “Noor’s Salon” hangs near the curtain.
This is noor al-Ghamari Salon, a dream project for a young woman who left her sister’s college to continue her love for her hair and makeup.
She set it up about three weeks ago on a destroyed roadway, the only option available when she and her family returned to the north from their displacement south.
After greeted by Amani and Aya, she starts softening a small piece of sugar paste, gently mixing it in her hands and starts working.
“Ever since I opened up, so many women came to me with heart stories … about the loss of her families and loved ones. They come exhausted, their faces are exhausted light,” Noor said.
The idea of a cosmetic salon in the middle of the war may seem unusual, Amani and Noor agree, but the act of self -restraint can help women.
“Women come from my tent, overcrowded schools or ruins of their destroyed homes.
“I try to offer them a moment of comfort, a little escape. My main goal is to leave, feeling even a little lighter, a little happier.”
Amani, who was displaced in Deir El-Balah and recently returned to the north, also did not think about leaving the cosmetics in the early days of the war.
In the end, she came across a similar salon in Deir El-Balah and started going regularly.
“Watch out for yourself changes your mood, especially when I see my reflection in the mirror. I always want to look presented.
“The tragedies around us never end. A visit to the cosmetic salon is … a little escape from all the difficulties around us,” she adds.
Return to the north, she was “delighted” when she saw Noor’s salon and immediately expanded good news to her neighbors and relatives.
Beauty in the middle of the war
Noor believes that the war was particularly cruel to women in Gaza, killing them into their homes and safety and capacity for self-sacrificing, while pouring their energy into survival.
“I saw many women whose skin was completely burned from the sun from living in tents, constantly cooked over wooden fires, handwashing clothing and wearing heavy water containers,” she says.
“On top of all, they do not have privacy in overcrowded displacement camps, not to mention fear, bombing and all war horrors.”
Yet, she says, she had clients of all age groups who consider it an independent care for them.
“I met many women who couldn’t handle any wandering hair on my face or eyebrows. Some came to me every week, others regularly or occasionally,” Noor says.
She remembers the client she once got, women in the early 30 who went through a huge trauma when her parents and all her brothers and sisters were killed in an Israeli air attack.
Dealing with her loss meant that a woman lost any desire to do anything.
“I felt so deep to her,” Noor says.
“I gave her complete treatment – stating, shaping eyebrows, hairstyles, even a free face and mask massage.
“When she looked in the mirror, her eyes were filled with happy tears.”
Holding his dreams
The Israeli war against Gaza began exactly as Noor dreamed of, setting plans for his own brick and mortar salon.
Like everyone in Gaza, her life and plans were facing upside down while she, her parents and eight brothers and sisters were forced to escape to the south after the evacuation orders of Israeli.
For the first two months, her only thoughts were about survival and helping her family, she says.
“But after the initial months, when we settled in a displacement camp in the south, I heard women say things like:” If only there were a hairdresser or salon nearby so we could take care of themselves a little. “
“I would reply,” I’m a cosmetician! “” Noor laughs.
“Women would grab me as if they had just found treasure, and I would start working immediately.”
Some women came to her, as she went to others in her tents – depending on their needs.
Now her work has become an essential source of income for her and family during the war, although she cannot charge her much five to eight customers.
“I live here, I understand the reality,” he says, explaining why prices keep low.
‘The war is old’
Amani seems restless as Noor ends up on her face.
He asks if Noor can dye his hair, but Noor can’t.
“There is no water in this area,” she explains. “Painting needs running water, and my tent is on the sidewalk, surrounded by destruction – no water, no electricity, nothing.
“I work with the simplest equipment and I only offer basic services.”
Amani sighed, running his fingers through his gray hair under the hijab.
“I only had a few gray hairs. But now, it’s everywhere. This war has been growing up with us,” she says with a sad smile.
Noor diverted attention to Aya, talking about the color of her dress to choose the right makeup.
“I brought my daughter today so that she could take care of herself a little – as a way to raise the mood,” Amani said, smiling at her daughter, whose eyes were closed to apply shake.
“I want to grow up knowing that you should always take care of yourself, no matter what.
“I also want to bring her some joy. What we saw during this war was extraordinary.”
While Noor adds her last touches to Ayai’s makeup, she talks about her dreams for a long time.
“More than anything, I want this war to end so I can expand my job, move to an appropriate salon and offer more services.
“But my message to all women is as follows: Watch out for yourself, no matter what. Life is short.”
