Booms and sardines and almost-tears

Twice in the last two days I have been brought nearly to tears. The first was yesterday atop a very tall business tower in Tel Aviv. We had gone to learn from an Israeli financial firm about the Israeli economy and financial sector. But the tower's amazing view was a definite benefit. As soon as I stepped off the elevator onto the 30th floor, I could see across the room the window overlooking the city, and then the Mediterranean. Now, I was carrying my hot mint tea in a paper cup with me, since it had been too hot to drink until then. When I spotted the window, and a straight shot over to it from the elevator, I walked quickly over to catch a quick peak at the view, maybe even a picture to share, before the meeting started. My forward motion was rudely interrupted, however, when I suddenly found myself struck by a sheet of glass. Indeed, I had run smack into a perfectly clean, floor-to-ceiling window, splattering my hot tea all over me and the floor, and smacking my upper lip. Luckily, my nose came out unscathed. My pride, shattered.

The office staff moved quickly and came over with a roll of paper towels, then guided me to a back room to pat myself dry and recover my dignity. Mostly, I just fought back the tears of deep embarrassment. Oh well. The view was still great.

The second time that tears rose up was today at approximately 5:55 pm. But I have to go back a bit to explain this one. This morning I received a call that one of the members of our group had awakened to a feeling of nausea, and I needed to run over to a pharmacy and get her some dramamine and drink with electrolytes. I quickly got ready and departed, only to arrive at the pharmacy and learn that it wouldn't open until 8 (it was 7:45). So, I went walking to find an ATM. It was a main road (Dizengoff, for those of you familiar with Tel Aviv), so I thought I had a good chance. I was wrong. What I find was Dizengoff Square, a central location with a lot of shops. At 7:55, the siren went off alerting us to potential incoming rockets. I had been told that if we were out on the streets with the sirens went off, we should look around, see where the natives are headed, and follow. We would have about 45 seconds. I looked around, and there were only about 15 people around (it was still relatively early). 10 of them continued about their business as if no siren were interrupting their day, and a few were scurrying into nearby stores. I followed one woman into a small supermarket, but then couldn't see her anymore. I only saw 2-3 store people, standing around chatting as if it were a lazy Saturday afternoon. I didn't know the word for bomb shelter, so I just wandered for a moment, trying to look like I intended to buy something.

After a moment, one of the clerks hollered at me that the siren was sounding. I said (in Hebrew), "I know. Where do I go?" He told me to go to the back of the store, then into the hallway and to the left. I did so, and found a room full of people standing there. I felt all the world like I was playing Sardines, and I had just lost (I was the last one). But I packed in anyway and stood quietly, not sure what would happen next. After a few seconds, we heard loud Booms - 3 of them. A man, staring down at his phone (they have an app that sends out the siren warning, and tells you when it's over) announced we could leave, but we remained there until a voice came over the store speaker that it was safe to leave.

We filed out, each going our way. My first bomb shelter. I did a quick self-inspection, and found myself just fine. Not too shaken. But I never found the ATM. I went to the pharmacy and went about my day.

Later today (I understand there were various other bombs shot out of the sky by Israel's Iron Dome defense system), I made my way to the bus station and took a bus to Jerusalem, where I then took a taxi to the Damascus Gate so I could walk to my next temporary home. Almost as soon as I stepped onto the curb, the siren sounded.  I stood there, unsure of what to do or where to go. Really, there was nowhere to go, and everyone was just going about their business like usual. But there was some kind of rise in the normal din of the market, almost like a celebration. Many were looking into the sky, trying to spot the rockets as they would be shot down. Finally some people began pointing to a point in the sky, and sure enough, we saw 2 distinct puffs of smoke where they were shot down. Several seconds later, 3 loud booms reached us. Apparently, there had been 3. Everyone cheered and clapped. And a tear again made its way upward, as I thought about the sense of camaraderie I suddenly felt with everyone around me. What must a true band of brothers in a war zone be?

I'll admit, I also had a few lines of the US National Anthem come to mind.

My hostel is FANTASTIC! No AC, but a nice clean room, with a view that can't be beat! I'll send pictures along shortly. I got the deal with breakfast included, and it's great. Quite literally the tables in the dining room have signs that clarify where the "pilgrims" are to sit. I got talking my neighbors at dinner, and they are going to help me with my research - filling out my survey about their trip to Israel. Things are going great so far.

But lives are being turned upside down all around me here, and it weighs on me. In Gaza, 67 Palestinians have been killed due to IDF attacks on their homes. Some of them were children and elderly. No Israelis have yet lost any lives, although something around 250 rockets have been fired from Gaza into Israel.

Interestingly, the riots of Arab Israelis stopped almost as soon as the rockets began. No one wants to be out on the streets in such conditions, and the rioters do not want to be associated with Hamas and the delegitimization campaign against Israel.

Someone pointed out today that the Arab Israelis (or Palestinian Israelis - no one knows what to call them, not even them) are in a tough spot that way. They by and large do not want to be associated with the West Bank or Gaza Palestinians. They see themselves as Israelis, and they want to be treated as such. They don't want to (nor should they have to) undergo constant suspicion of their loyalty to the state, and they want equal and fair treatment under Israeli law and government. Likewise, Palestinians from across the "border" view them as traitors and accomplices. They are caught in the middle. It's true.

Likewise, the average Palestinian citizen is trapped. Not just by Israel's unwillingness to work for a fair settlement (which is problematic on so many levels, not the least of which is that almost no one can agree on what that would look like - on either the Palestinian or Israeli side), but also by their terribly corrupt government. Most Palestinians favor a two-state solution. So do most Israelis. Most don't believe it will happen any time soon because they don't believe the other side really wants it. In Israel, at least, people can express their dissatisfaction with the government and their situation. In Palestine, anyone criticizing the "leadership" (I think the great problem is an enormous lack of leadership) puts himself and his family at risk of jail, physical harm or death. In Gaza, it's even worse. The aid that goes to the countries to help with infrastructure and alleviation of poverty goes into the pockets of the elites who continue to demand hostility to Israel (because it makes a resolution impossible, thus keeping the instability going that feeds their growing wealth and power). This is true of both sides, but worse in Gaza. Imported goods, basic living necessities, such as food, refrigerators, clothing, etc., are taken by Hamas upon entry at the port and resold to the people at higher costs. It's beyond despicable. It's pure evil. Using people, families, as human shields, they hide their rocket launchers inside or beneath homes, as well as the weapons-making systems they have developed.

The IDF is not free of blame. Palestinians, including many in Israel, are angry that the IDF destroyed a home with a family of 7 on the roof, who stood there, refusing to allow it to be demolished. Who is the good guy here? Is there one?

I argued at length (yes, me! I argued - as respectfully and with as much love as possible) with the receptionist here at the convent. He is a Muslim man who works for the UN, named Anwar. He is bitterly angry at the loss of life, at the loss of home and lack of care by the Israeli government. He has a right to be. But Israel also has a right to defend itself. I understand that the situation here is being reported very little outside of Israel. In reality, it seems to be affecting life very little - mostly because Israel has been very successful at defending itself. Should a rocket actually land and kill Israeli citizens, things could change very quickly. But I am glad that it is not affecting life too much here. If terror doesn't terrorize, it loses its power. I hope and pray that it does, and that the Palestinian people will rise against corrupt leadership, demand a state and make it happen. I do hope.

 I found this artwork - painted rocks at the Israeli Supreme Court - rather engaging and haunting. They are meant to signal a hope for peace.

 Some of the hills of the West Bank, Palestine. I didn't get very many good pictures, because we were driving most of the time, but the landscape was unique and beautiful!

 A pomegranate tree! Isn't it a stunning fruit? Even when it's not fully ripe!?

 We ate at an Ottoman-era restaurant in Jaffa that had all these old pots hanging from the ceiling. It was a sight! And the food was a delight!

 The view from my Tel Aviv room. 

Segway "tour" of Tel Aviv! Don't I look like a rebel!?