The next morning the sirens went of again. A rocket was heading towards us. I couldn't believe it, although I wasn't very surprised. When "tension" rises in Israel, it's a lot of this person paying for this, that person paying for that. We ran down to the bomb shelter yet again, and this time I didn't cry. I was scared and my body was shaking, but I did not cry. I was able to process things in my mind and actually think unlike the first time where my mind went completely blank. We sit in silence again. Suddenly we hear the rocket flying over our heads. "We didn't hear that last time...", I thought to myself. I wish I could describe the sound. It was like a sound effect from a cartoon or something. You know when someone lights a fuse and then two seconds later there's a cloud of smoke with the letters "KABOOM" spelled out? Well it was like that... Except not animated and when the rocket fell, it fell close. Closer than before. It was much louder. Even Doron's brother and sister, the non-rookies, acknowledged the fact that it was close and we should go further inside. After a minute or two everyone went back upstairs. I remembered a story from the day before about a group of people, in a synagogue I believe, that came out of the bomb shelter too early and a second one fell right on them. Being too afraid, I stayed for a few minutes longer, Doron and his sister stayed with me. Having the ability to think again, I did. And I thought of Anne Frank. As far out there as it sounds, that's the truth. I felt like I'm in freaking Nazi Germany circa 1942 hiding out from the people who want us to "disappear". I don't think Americans realize that this country is surrounded by people who have that same mentality. Or at least comprehend how REAL that thought is today. And at that moment, I was a target. A victim of terror. Those people want me to disappear too. We left Be'er Sheva Saturday morning. I cried in the car the entire way home.
Since Thursday afternoon until Monday, there were nearly 100 rockets, missiles, and mortar shells fired into Southern Israel. A wife lost her husband. Brothers and sisters lost their parents among others. Many were wounded and admitted to the hospital for shock. All of this, for no reason at all. No logical one atleast. Despite what you may all (those of you in the states) understand from the news, Israel did not fire first. And the airstrikes over Gaza successfully killed those responsible for the terror attacks, unfortunately killing innocent people as well because they were tactically hiding among them. After four days of hostility, Hamas declares a cease-fire even though 12 rockets were fired after the announcement. Then a PCR (Popular Resistance Committees) spokesmen says, "Long term cease-fire is impossible with the Zionist enemy". And these are the people who are going to apply for a Palestinian State in a month. I don't understand....
People said that I would grow tougher skin while living in Israel. Maybe I can now speak up to rude taxi drivers or make my way through a pushy crowd (if even that), but getting used to sirens, rockets flying over my head... I can't get used to that. There is something so screwed up about the fact that this is all normal to Israeli's, that it's a part of life here. I asked my grandmother if I should be afraid for what's to happen on September 20th, when they're might possibly be a Palestine. She said to me, "We don't think like that. If it's not something tomorrow, then it's the next day...". I also remember a few months ago there was a threat of the 3rd Antifada. Doron said to me that those threats aren't anything new. I just never heard anything about them living in the States. So Israel carried on with their day as if it were any other. The day of the threat, I stayed home. When I returned home from Be'er Sheva this weekend, I couldn't imagine going to work. I was emotionally exhausted. I couldn't stop hearing the sirens in my head. I wanted to sleep. I didn't want to be awake knowing everything that had just happened. A friend of mine said to me, "the best thing to do is to go to work". As if I had a cold or something. I really do admire the strength of an Israeli. To them, being afraid is like giving in. "Letting them win." I think its sad though that this is their reality, and I guess now mine. They don't have a choice. However I do. I can honestly, truthfully, slightly regrettably and weakfully say, if there was ever a time that I wanted to be home in California, it was now. My skin is not tough enough and I don't want to get used to this. The sad thing is if I left, it wouldn't change anything at all.
Showing posts with label Terrorism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Terrorism. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Blackbird Fly
I know i promised you all (whoever you are) a post on handbags since my last post on shoes was so much fun. However, there was a turn of events this weekend that turned me so far upside that there was no way I could get myself to write about fashion or anything related to it. I was also unsure if I wanted to share what happened either. And the last thing I want to do is to scare anyone back home. At the end of the day though, I started this blog not only to share the things that I love about fashion, food and culture in Israel, but my experiences here as well. So that my friends and people in America and around the world wouldn't only think of war and camels when it came to this country. The fact of the matter is, the reality in Israel is completely different from any other reality most people can even imagine. Although I grew up hearing stories about the suicide bombers and terror attacks in Israel, imagining what it is like doesn't compare to half of it. This weekend I don't have to imagine anymore. Everything became far too real for me.
It started Thursday at noon, my boyfriend Doron and I headed down south to Be'er Sheva where his family lives for a celebration of a new baby in the family. Without our knowledge, about 15 terrorists from Gaza went into Sinai, Egypt and entered Israel planning a terror attack at the same time. They aimed rockets at a bus full of people heading to Eilat (a huge vacation spot on the southern tip of the country), missed and hit a civilian car. Another group got onto a bus and opened fire. Then when another bus arrived, one of the terrorists ran up to the bus and pulled his explosive belt. Israel is quick to act when something like this happens. Another car came, and the terrorists shot them too. Two sisters and their husbands coming back from a vacation. The Israeli Defense Force arrive and kill those that are involved, then they go to the source and kill the source. So Israel retaliates, launches an airstrike in Gaza killing those responsible for the attacks. There were military helicopters flying over the house the entire evening. That night I fell asleep with nerves unsettled in my stomach. At 6:05am, I wake up to the sound of sirens. A missile was launched in Be'er Sheva.
I run downstairs, grab Doron, I'm scared but act quicker than I would have imagined. In the basement there's the bomb shelter. Every house and apartment building in Israel has a bomb shelter in it. I was the first one in, then Doron, his sister, sisters fiance, brother and then both his parents. I've never been so scared in my life. My body was shaking, I could hardly breathe, and if it weren't for Doron holding me, I would have fallen to the floor. Once everyone is in, it goes quiet. Boom. "There, that was the first Rocket" Doron's sister says. And something about that sentence triggered me. All the panic and fear that was inside me the last two minutes came pouring out and suddenly I was bawling my eyes out in Doron's arms. It was so uncontrollable. Everything was. The crying, the shaking, the fast breathing. My heart was beating so fast and so hard as if it were about to jump from my chest. There are no thoughts going through my mind the entire time we're in the bomb shelter. Pure emotion and at the end relief that we weren't hit. As everyone returned to sleep, Doron and I sat in the living room trying to calm me down. We started talking and he began telling me what it was like when they were kids and there were sirens that went off twice a day. For almost a decade of his teenage life, suicide bombers went into buses, cafes, night clubs, every week. As we stayed up talking I was reminded of the 1994 Northridge Earthquake. The big one... We went to our neighbors house and sat together in the living room throughout the night and throughout the aftershocks. I was 7 and that night was something I'd never forger. I'm beginning to realize that tonight was also one of those nights. Expect far worse. Now the ground wasn't only shaking, but I understood exactly why. To an extent that is. I think of all those years that I've been afraid of earthquakes. Now they are nothing, absolutely nothing compared to... this terror attack? As the sun comes up, eventually I fall back asleep.
The next day was bizarre. I wake up and my mind went straight back to the bomb shelter. The sound of the rockets falling keep going off in my mind. When we go downstairs, it was as if nothing happened. It was like one of those outer body experiences where you are looking at what is happening around you and can't understand how everything is so normal. But it was. I knew before that this was something that happens and Israeli's were a lot more used to it than I was. Being a part of that though, not being able to think or dream or talk about anything else, how can you get used to that? The difference is, when you grow up a certain way, and you live with certain realities, the definition of normal changes. Apparently here, they've gotten used to waking up to the sound of sirens and running down to the bomb shelter. After a while, as Doron's dad said, they say, "Can I go back to sleep now?".
Some 20 rockets were shot into the surrounding cities that day. People died, people were injured, houses were destroyed, tons of people were admitted into the hospital for shock. It reminded me of September 11, when all we did was watch the news, read the newspaper, heard story after story. There are images that will never leave my head from September 11. Neither will images from today. I cant't stop crying.
That night we all sit together for Shabbat dinner. Later we celebrate the engagement of Doron's cousin and fiance. I fell asleep a few hours later like a baby who sits in its crib crying hysterically and eventually falls asleep. 9:10am, I am awakened again.
To Be Continued...
It started Thursday at noon, my boyfriend Doron and I headed down south to Be'er Sheva where his family lives for a celebration of a new baby in the family. Without our knowledge, about 15 terrorists from Gaza went into Sinai, Egypt and entered Israel planning a terror attack at the same time. They aimed rockets at a bus full of people heading to Eilat (a huge vacation spot on the southern tip of the country), missed and hit a civilian car. Another group got onto a bus and opened fire. Then when another bus arrived, one of the terrorists ran up to the bus and pulled his explosive belt. Israel is quick to act when something like this happens. Another car came, and the terrorists shot them too. Two sisters and their husbands coming back from a vacation. The Israeli Defense Force arrive and kill those that are involved, then they go to the source and kill the source. So Israel retaliates, launches an airstrike in Gaza killing those responsible for the attacks. There were military helicopters flying over the house the entire evening. That night I fell asleep with nerves unsettled in my stomach. At 6:05am, I wake up to the sound of sirens. A missile was launched in Be'er Sheva.
I run downstairs, grab Doron, I'm scared but act quicker than I would have imagined. In the basement there's the bomb shelter. Every house and apartment building in Israel has a bomb shelter in it. I was the first one in, then Doron, his sister, sisters fiance, brother and then both his parents. I've never been so scared in my life. My body was shaking, I could hardly breathe, and if it weren't for Doron holding me, I would have fallen to the floor. Once everyone is in, it goes quiet. Boom. "There, that was the first Rocket" Doron's sister says. And something about that sentence triggered me. All the panic and fear that was inside me the last two minutes came pouring out and suddenly I was bawling my eyes out in Doron's arms. It was so uncontrollable. Everything was. The crying, the shaking, the fast breathing. My heart was beating so fast and so hard as if it were about to jump from my chest. There are no thoughts going through my mind the entire time we're in the bomb shelter. Pure emotion and at the end relief that we weren't hit. As everyone returned to sleep, Doron and I sat in the living room trying to calm me down. We started talking and he began telling me what it was like when they were kids and there were sirens that went off twice a day. For almost a decade of his teenage life, suicide bombers went into buses, cafes, night clubs, every week. As we stayed up talking I was reminded of the 1994 Northridge Earthquake. The big one... We went to our neighbors house and sat together in the living room throughout the night and throughout the aftershocks. I was 7 and that night was something I'd never forger. I'm beginning to realize that tonight was also one of those nights. Expect far worse. Now the ground wasn't only shaking, but I understood exactly why. To an extent that is. I think of all those years that I've been afraid of earthquakes. Now they are nothing, absolutely nothing compared to... this terror attack? As the sun comes up, eventually I fall back asleep.
The next day was bizarre. I wake up and my mind went straight back to the bomb shelter. The sound of the rockets falling keep going off in my mind. When we go downstairs, it was as if nothing happened. It was like one of those outer body experiences where you are looking at what is happening around you and can't understand how everything is so normal. But it was. I knew before that this was something that happens and Israeli's were a lot more used to it than I was. Being a part of that though, not being able to think or dream or talk about anything else, how can you get used to that? The difference is, when you grow up a certain way, and you live with certain realities, the definition of normal changes. Apparently here, they've gotten used to waking up to the sound of sirens and running down to the bomb shelter. After a while, as Doron's dad said, they say, "Can I go back to sleep now?".
Some 20 rockets were shot into the surrounding cities that day. People died, people were injured, houses were destroyed, tons of people were admitted into the hospital for shock. It reminded me of September 11, when all we did was watch the news, read the newspaper, heard story after story. There are images that will never leave my head from September 11. Neither will images from today. I cant't stop crying.
That night we all sit together for Shabbat dinner. Later we celebrate the engagement of Doron's cousin and fiance. I fell asleep a few hours later like a baby who sits in its crib crying hysterically and eventually falls asleep. 9:10am, I am awakened again.
To Be Continued...
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