Siren

Notes from Jerusalem

/ IlanaB / Leave a comment

*7 minutes

This is a blog about life in Israel. Since my last post in 2021, we went through a bunch of elections (I didn’t think I could explain them in any coherent way), COVID closures now and again, and just life. Simply put, I had nothing to add to the conversation.

Now, it’s been a month since the nightmare of October 7, and only now have I been able to write anything. I think I’ve been in shock. I wouldn’t say denial, although I haven’t been able to watch any of the horrors or hear any stories of the heroes of that day. I would start crying and never stop.

This post will not be political or angry – though my constant doom scrolling might suggest that that’s what I want to write. Instead, I decided that I would share things that are not reported in the news in the West. This will not be a click-bait post about terrible things happening here. Jerusalem is a bubble, and we feel kind-of safe here, though I’m sure we’re not as safe as we think we are.

October 6

It was Friday night, and my neighborhood has continued to have Shabbat services in the park. The celebration was especially joyful with singing late into the night. It was the holiday of Simhat Torah (celebrating restarting the weekly readings of the Torah).

October 7

I was awakened at 8:15am by a strange noise. It wasn’t my alarm. It wasn’t anything electronic in my home. It took me a few seconds to understand that it was a siren. A SIREN. I grabbed my phone and tried to find out what was happening. I could hear my neighbors turning on radios and noises of moving around, but no panicking or hysteria.

My building is old and not equipped with a protected room. There are recommendations for safety in every scenario, so I knew that my bedroom was probably the safest place for me to be. The public shelter is in the park. It makes no sense to leave my home, go out into the street, walk for a minute, then enter the park to go into the shelter there. And I’m certainly not going out there in my pajamas.

There were a few more sirens that morning, but nothing after noon or so. Because it was Shabbat and a holiday, the news was slow to come out.

Normally on a Shabbat, I like to lounge around in my bathrobe, have a leisurely brunch, watch some shows, and putter around the house. Not on this day. I probably did something a little strange. After the second siren, I decided to take a shower, including washing my hair. I got dressed in clean clothes and put on tennis shoes. If anything should happen, at a minimum, I would be prepared. I’ve been wearing tennis shoes every day since then. If I have to run somewhere, at least I won’t be held back by improper shoes. My joke to myself is that these are my emotional support shoes. It’s not really funny, but they do make me feel better.

In the evening, we were notified that school had been canceled, workplaces that don’t have proper shelters will be closed, gatherings would be basically forbidden, and we should all stay home as much as possible.

My work let all of us know that if we were able to come in, we should.

October 8

(Don’t worry, this isn’t a day by day diary, I’m just trying to give a little context.)

The first text message I got in the morning was from my health fund. They wrote to let us know that services might be slowed down during this time, but a hotline was opened for anyone having any mental or emotional struggles at this time.

When I went out, I was immediately struck by how quiet it was – very little traffic, few people on the street, businesses closed. I called it COVID quiet.

On this day, we were just learning who had been called to reserve duty, whose family members had been called up, who had lost loved ones, who had families in danger. The horror stories were slowly being revealed. The number of hostages was rising. The shock of the atrocities was a cloud over all of us. It still is.

Since then

Reserves were called immediately. Some who were not called, came voluntarily. They called 300,000 reservists, 360,000 showed up.

Calls to action by every kind of Jewish organization in Israel and outside of Israel came right away – for food, for clothes, for additional protective and field gear for soldiers, for funds for more ambulances and medical personnel and supplies, for blood drives, for sheltering animals who were left in the communities or whose owners were killed, for workers to help in the agricultural areas in the south.

It’s estimated almost 50% of Israelis have done some kind of volunteer work this month.

Social media influencers went into overdrive for Israel. Among them are Christian and Muslim Arab Israelis.

Within a day or two, billboards were covered with images of the Israeli flag. Just before President Biden’s visit, there was a huge banner with his image, the US flag, and the word “Thanks!” This week, I saw kidnapped posters. The light show on the walls of the Old City was images of the kidnapped.

Couples who had plans to get married later decided to get married now. Rather than a honeymoon, the men, and sometimes the women too, went to their reserve duty.

Israeli hospitals moved their wards into underground parking garages. They have full care facilities and operating theaters set up, and patients are protected.

It’s not easy to purchase and keep a gun in Israel. But after October 7 and after people heard that the slain usually didn’t have a weapon nearby, gun permit requests went sky-high. They expedited the process so that the paperwork would be processed more quickly and rather than a face-to-face interview, it could be done over the phone. It will still take a few weeks to process each request.

There are approximately 300,000 evacuees (from southern communities, but now also from the north) in hotels. Some real estate management companies have opened up empty homes to house families from the evacuated areas. Businesses are coming up with free activities for them so they don’t feel so isolated, alone, or abandoned. For example, the Cinemateque is screening feel-good movies three times a day for free, museums are offering free entrance and in-person activities at the hotels, retailers are offering percentages of purchases going to help evacuees. Most of the time, the programs are called something like “embracing evacuees.”

Many nights have been silent. In regular times, you can hear people out and about or hear the traffic. But now, most nights are extremely quiet. You can hear the wind. You can hear low-flying planes and helicopters keeping watch in the sky.

Plant nurseries in the south had to sell all their plants as quickly as possible. I bought a bunch and started to work on my garden. I felt like I was planting hope.

The buses are equipped with audio recordings to let passengers know which stop is coming up and that if you don’t scan your card, you could face a big fine. During COVID times, the announcement reminded everyone to wear a mask. Last week, there was a new message: In regular times and in emergencies, Egged (the bus company) will be there to provide service. We are strong together, and we will get through this together.

I’ve started seeing the motto Together we will win. A few weeks ago, the country was divided and Netanyahu and his government were teetering on the edge of the abyss. But on October 7, the country said, we’ll deal with that later, right now, we need to act together to deal with this external existential threat. Rest assured there will be inquiries about the catastrophic failures of October 7 and the lack of leadership. But first we have to succeed in removing Hamas from the Gaza Strip. The only way Israel can move forward is by being together and united.

Holocaust Remembrance Day (5 May 2016) – Yom HaShoah

/ IlanaB / 5 Comments

Every year we stop everything and stand for two-minute national siren to remember six million Jews who perished in the Holocaust.  For 24 hours television stations broadcast Holocaust stories and interviews.  Radio stations play somber music.  Restaurants and entertainment venues are closed.  During the siren, drivers pull over to the side of the road and get out of their cars.  Busses stop and often passengers get off to stand for the siren.  Walkers stop in the street.  It is a national pause to take the time to remember.

A video from this year taken on Highway 1 between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv.

In Israel, national and religious holidays start at sunset the evening before.  On the eve of Holocaust Remembrance Day, I witnessed an incredible sunset.  It was so stunning not only for the colors in the sky, but it seemed to change the quality of the air.  The air seemed to be infused with pink and gold and so full of magic that you might even be able to scoop some into a jar to save for later.

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In all the years I’ve been in Israel, I’ve never had the chance to be in a public street for the siren.  The siren is at 10am and usually people are at work.  If no official ceremony is held, people will stand up at their desks.  Places where there are official gatherings, people will stand together and often will have a short remembrance ceremony.   I’ve experienced both.  But this year, I happened to be out in the street.  I didn’t take a video or photos because I wanted to participate, not observe from behind the safety of a lens.

Still, I saw some things:

  • A few minutes before 10am, I could feel people start to slow down and start to gather in the square.  They knew what was coming.
  • A woman brought her own package of Kleenex and was prepared for her emotional response.  She shared her Kleenex afterwards with someone who hadn’t expected to have such an emotional reaction.
  • Of the 50–60 people that I could see in the square, everyone stopped what they were doing and stood, except 3 people who continued walking.  Two were a Muslim couple and what I guess to be an Arab man.
  • Several Muslim women (marked by their headcoverings) stopped and stood solemnly with everyone else.
  • Time stands still.  And then when the siren ends, the world starts moving again as if released from a pause.

What I notice in myself is that at first the two-minute siren seems so incredibly long.  And then if I think about it in depth, how could it possibly be long enough?

I feel mixed emotions.  First, I’m sad because this is a remembrance for the light of six million human beings snuffed out due to hatred, along with millions of others who were also crushed under the wave of fear, ignorance, and hatred.  But then, incongruously, I’m happy.  All of us in this square, and actually the whole country, are standing together on this day to honor the memory of the fallen.  “Never Forget!” is not just a phrase, but is an active choice made by every person who stops, stands, and remembers.  I remember not only for myself, but for the people standing next to me, and they remember not only for themselves, but also for me and their neighbors.  During this powerful two minutes, Israel stands together.  Not just in theory or with words, but with an active choice to pause and stand together.

***

There are those who say that Israel exists because of guilt over the Holocaust.  The UN vote on 29 November 1947 was a short two years after the end of the World War II, so there may be some truth to that.  Whatever guilt there may have been, it still required a lot of political campaigning to get the votes.  The result was not a foregone conclusion.

But can we or should we say that Israel has to exist so that a Holocaust will never happen again?  A Jewish homeland has to exist so that if Jews are suddenly unsafe or expelled, they will at least have a place to go?  There is, of course, a grain of truth to that.  The flip side of that logic is that if Jews are safe in the world, then there is no need for Israel to exist.

Rather than focus on the Holocaust as the reason for Israel to exist, which leads to a victim mentality, it is far more positive and a source of strength to say that Israel exists due to an historic connection to the land itself, the place in the world where the Jews as a nation trace their history.  The Holocaust must always be remembered, but it should not be the defining point of Jewish history or Israeli history.  The memory of the victims must always be honored, but it was the survivors who built the modern state of Israel.

From Passover, we move to Holocaust Remembrance Day, then we will go to Soldier’s Remembrance Day, and then Independence Day.  It is a symbolic journey from slavery, to near annihilation, to fighting for the land, and finally to freedom.