Maps

Just to give an idea of which areas are in rocket range, kind of makes my gut twist just to look at these:

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msa=0&msid=109382424764287956980.00045f68d068335d353d7&ie=UTF8&hl=iw&ll=31.538749,34.82254&spn=0.753758,1.425476&z=10

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msa=0&msid=109382424764287956980.00045f68d068335d353d7&ie=UTF8&hl=en&ll=31.538749,34.82254&spn=0.753758,1.425476&z=10

Gaza musings

So this evening, following reports of a rocket salvo, oh, say about half an hour's drive from my home, I went out to a concert with my visiting British tourist, and when I arrived home I found out that just over an hour's drive from my home Israeli soldiers were going in to Gaza.

And I and a few hundred other folks were experiencing a couple of hours of escapism in a cosy modern concert hall, seemingly a world away from the war raging in commuting distance from us.

During a brief break in the performance my tourist turned to me and whispered, shocked realisation on his face, "we're enjoying ourselves while people are dying so close by." Welcome to my world.

Well, what else to do? Half an hour's drive away they've cancelled schools, turned on the air raid siren and Home Front Command is giving people instructions on where to seek shelter, but here life goes on as usual, except for the folks who've had emergency call up papers and the many many people who've opened their hearts and their homes to offer respite to families under attack in the south.

No reason however not to take a couple of hours out to go to the theatre which after all is only around the corner from me and I did promise my guest that I would take him to a classical concert during his visit, and he is leaving this week so I figured it was about time I followed through. DH babysat (Junior, bless her actually fell asleep at a normal hour) and off I went, all 5 minutes walk up the hill to the theatre.

Israel kibbutz Camaretta is OK, pleasant enough, but what made the evening really worth while was Keren Hadar, and up and coming soprano with a vibrant stage presence and versatile voice. She sang a mixture of popular arias from assorted operas, using a number from Carmen Jones (not, note, Carmen itself) as a transition to the second half which consisted of classical arrangements for Israeli folk songs and oldies. I thought she held these disparate segments together beautifully and she certainly will have me coming back for more I think. What can I say, my mother brought me up going to musicals, opera and singing a ton of Israeli folk and pop at home, and this apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Left the apartment to news that the IDF was shelling northern Gaza, arrived home to discover that our forces have gone in on the ground and there is a massive call up of even more reserve soldiers. Zapped through all the Israeli news broadcasts (Channels 1, 2 and 10), then Fox and Sky, along with Egypt and Morocco for good measure, not that my Arabic is so hot, but I could get the bare gist of their reporting. (We have the cheap basic cable package, so not much more in the way of English language news networks, no more BBC or CNN for us).

I believe it needs to be done, Israel needs to defeat Hamas here, has to stand up to all the years of rocket terror once and for all. I believe its the only way we're going to have any kind of peace, but , as the cliche goes, war is hell, and I'm pretty sure that Hamas will fight, and this is going to be a tough fight for us I think. Hamas have had years to build defences, hunker down and make an IDF incursion as difficult as possible, try to draw our soldiers into built up areas where Hamas feels it has the upper hand, and I remember enough of what I've heard from soldiers who were in Lebanon and in Jenin and similar battles.

I'm sad for the innocents in Gaza, the folks who have suffered all these years under Hamas and the various gangs and militias there, and are now suffering from being caught in the middle of Hamas' war and Israel's response. In the days before the Oslo War, before Yasser Arafat reneged on peace negotiations in September 2000 and all hell broke loose, well, there were decent relations between the ordinary people of Gaza and their Israeli neighbours, people did work together, especially in agriculture, in factories, as truck drivers, as doctors and nurses in Israeli hospitals and more, so it isn't as if the people of Gaza are an unknown "other" - plenty of Israelis, especially among those in the line of fire, know civilians on the Gaza side of the border, worry about people they know, or more likely, knew there, as since the Israeli pullout and Hamas take over there has been far less contact. The other day one of the Israeli news stations interviewed a guy from Jebaliya in Gaza, and he told of how upset he was at the rocket fire, how he wanted to go back to the way things were in the good old days, how he hoped for peace with his Israeli neighbours.

That's the part that breaks my heart, I believe we have no option other than military action to fight Hamas, but the fact that there is no way of fighting this thing without harming civilians because Hamas cynically bases its operations in the midst of its own people, knowing that the only way Israel can protect Israeli civilians is to endanger Palestinian civilians, that is chilling, and Hamas knows that, and has been using it against us for years. Does that make us weak? I don't think so, but it has on many occasions endangered both our soldiers and civilians, because Hamas knows that we will think twice, and three times and more, before mounting a defensive operation that puts Palestinian civilians in harms way.

I have my Tehillim (Psalms) book to hand and have made liberal use of it this evening. God keep our guys safe and grant them success.

Winter by the Mediterranean (within rocket range)

Just thinking of more peaceful, happier times in this part of the world. Before anyone gets antsy, I took these photos last winter at a favourite spot which at the time wasn't within rocket range (though I guess close to it) and today is firmly within range.

Just thinking of me and my kid looking for shells and crabs, watching the fishermen, and the families with kids playing on the beach, the oblivious lovers. All just enjoying the serenity, the crash of the waves almost drowning out the faint bubble of children's laughter reaching us from down the beach, eyes fixed on the stunning beauty of a Mediterranean sunset.

Well they aren't there now, and it isn't because of the weather, it's because there is no where to take cover out in the open here, save for a wooden lifeguard's hut and a few thatched parasol thingies. And it is so damn sad, because life shouldn't be like this, shouldn't be thinking of rockets falling from the skies instead of watching them for migrating birds or kingfishers.

And maybe that sounds selfish, to be thinking of this while people are dying and getting hurt, and living in terror, but I don't think so. I want those kids to once again be running along that beach and building sand castles.

These thoughts were running though my mind as I caught odd snippets of tv today, a few minutes here and there while folding laundry or sorting out some cupboards, really samples of programming throughout the day I guess.

Israel Channel 1 and Israel Education TV were having a special "open studio" children's programming (sorry, can't think of the exact English translation) because of the "situation" - all over the south-west schools are closed for the safety of the children, as large gatherings of people make for more casualties in the event of a rocket strike. That and many schools lack adequate shelters. (In theory perhaps all the kids and teachers could squeeze in to their school shelters, but only if nobody breathes...)

So there sat Hanni Nahmias, legendery Israeli children's tv host, and in between cartoon clips and chatting with some youngsters talking about fun with do it yourself science projects, she was talking to children living in communities currently under fire, trying to give them an outlet for their fears and concerns.

Later I caught yet another children's programme, also speaking to a young girl from a kibbutz over the border from Gaza, a young girl calmly and matter of factly talking about things which shouldn't be in any child's vocabulary.

About rockets, and what they do when and if the alert sounds and how they've lived with this situation for so many years.

About fear, and seeking shelter, and huddling with older siblings at night for comfort.

About differentiating between the sounds of incoming rockets from Gaza and IDF return fire.

About how they sympathised with the children in Gaza caught up in the fighting, about how they were sure that just like them, the children of Gaza dreamed of peace and coexistence. About how they were sure that the kids in Gaza were innocents just like them, and they knew that it was Hamas, not the ordinary Gazans, who were to blame. They spoke of sorrow at knowing that kids were getting hurt there too.

Earlier that morning there were psychologists given advice on some breakfast show, telling worried parents how to explain the situation to their children, how to deal with their fears and uncertainty. Try to stay calm. Don't try to pretty up the situation by saying the booms are thunder, not rockets, because children can tell when their parents are covering up. If Heaven forbid someone you know is hurt or killed, don't lie to your kids, tell them what happened if they ask, maintain their trust by being as honest as you can, but don't volunteer the information if they don't ask right away. And so on and so on, advice from parents up north who suffered through Hizballah's rockets during the 2006 Lebanon War and advice from child psychologists sadly expert with child trauma in wartime.

And then at some point I happened upon an interview with a young woman from a kibbutz near Sderot talking about her life, but what really got me was her nephew, a boy of about 3, same age as my child, a little boy whose entire life has been lived in the shadow of rockets and sirens - it's all he's ever known.

Random rockets?

So being an Israeli you have to have something of a thick skin, otherwise you spend your entire life with raised bloodpressure from the deluge of offensive and often just plain stupid comments friend and foe alike make about life in this neck of the woods. I could spend my entire life responding to this stuff, but, then I wouldn't have any other life, so mostly I swallow hard, laugh, cringe, roll my eyes or engage in all three, and move on.

The following comment from a usually intelligent pro-Palestinian friend of mine just made me see red though: Random rocket firing at people living safely in bomb-proof shelters does not equate to this crap (referring to Israel's current military operation in Gaza)

Excuse me?!

Random rocket firing is a weapon of pure terror. You never know when and where it will strike, when you're taking your kids to school, making dinner in the evening, driving to work, ploughing a field or shopping for food - you are at risk 24/7 with no warning, other than the brief 15 second alert (if you're lucky) of the Red Dawn "early" warning system. If you're caught in the open, forget it, there is no time to reach shelter, you just lie down on the ground and pray.

Israeli civilians living within rocket range of Gaza have been living with this reality for years, and it just keeps getting worse, as the numbers of rockets fired each week grows, and their range increases.

Israeli roulette is going about your daily life and wondering whether today a rocket will land in an empty lot or score a direct hit on your home while you're asleep in your bed. Whether today is the day that a rocket hits the playground seconds after the kids have gone back to class or whether it will hit in the middle of recess, and it won't just be the tangled wreckage of swings and monkey bars, but the mangled bodies of flesh and blood too.

Because both happen, and the luck that by a miracle most of the time the rockets have missed hitting people doesn't negate the shattered homes, kindergartens, playgrounds, synagogues and shops, the stark reminders that there but for the grace of God go those who live within rocket range of Gaza, the reminders of the really bad days when the rockets hit a crowded Ashkelon mall (I was in Ashkelon that day, I remember it well), or a cluster of mothers and kids outside a kindergarten, or workshop or hapless folks caught walking down the street.

Plenty of Israelis living near Gaza still don't have adequate shelters, there are many older buildings, farm buildings (Israeli refugees from Israel's evacaution of Gaza living in thinwalled trailers for example).

You can't turn every single structure into a rocket proof shelter, you reenforce what you can, say a shielded roof over vulnerable schools, concrete barricades to provide a modicum of protection while waiting for a bus, but it's a physical impossibility to say, cram the whole of Ashkelon's major regional hospital into a shelter or to reenforce every public building and private home.

The hell of a lot of use a shelter is when you are walking in the street, going to school, buying food at the market, waiting for the train, working in your field or driving to hospital.

And a shelter won't save you from a direct hit.

Have you ever lived in a shelter? The shelter in my home is typical, tiny, just enough room for two small camp beds to be squeezed in. Just about adequare for my small family, but if we had more children, no one would even be able to lie down, we'd all have to hunch up on the floor just to fit everyone in. Even sleeping the night like that would be claustrophobic, having to stay in there for days at a time with no sanitary facilities, no windows, just a narrow confined cell like space would drive most families to insanity. And at some point you have to get out to get food, relieve yourself, etc.

Israelis have been more than patient. No one should have to live with the daily threat of rockets, and the civilians of south-west Israel have been living with rockets and mortars for years. Israel pulled out of Gaza, uprooted Israeli civilians living there for decades, pulled out its soldiers, and still, the rockets just kept coming.

The Israeli government has tried non-military methods to put pressure on the Hamas government of Gaza to stop the rocket attacks, but it hasn't made a difference. Israel agreed to a ceasefire which wasn't really a ceasefire - Hamas just reduced (but did not actually stop) the number of rockets fired into Israel each month.

And then the ceasefire ran out and Hamas didn't renew it, instead increasing the rocket fire to dozens. Israelis have had enough, and no government can sit idly by and allow its citizens to be targetted this way, day after day, year after year, while the intensity of the rocket fire only increases and along with their range, casting more and more Israeli civilians in the net of rocket terror.

Unlike the Palestinian rocket launchers who randomly aim their weapons at civilians, the Israeli army is doing its utmost to only strike at military targets in Gaza, pinpointing Hamas and other guerilla groups military infrastracture - training bases, military headquarters, weapons depots, rocket launchers and the like. Most of those killed have been members of Hamas or other armed militias.

And at the end of the day the seemingly random rockets do have a wider strategic purpose for the Palestinian militias: eroding Israel's sovereignty, forcing Israeli to flee, and so weakening Israel, in the hope that eventually this will lead to the ceding of more territory to the Palestinians. Make no mistake, random rocket fire is effective terror, and terror is just another way of fighting a war.

Ashkelon joins Sderot

Ashkelon is an Israeli city close to my heart. I love the beach there and the antiquities. I have friends I like to visit there. I like the simple, slightly laid back sleepy feel of the place.

Ashkelon is one of Israel's larger cities, population about 120,000 I think. Its southern outskirts are just about in range of Kassam rockets from Gaza, but most of the city has until recently not been within range.

In recent months Palestinian militias in Gaza have successfully used longer range Grad rockets which can hit all of Ashkelon, recently hitting a residential neighbourhood and causing alarm in the city. Over the last few days many more longer range Grad rockets have hit the city, falling in residential areas of the fairly densely populated city.

I last visited in late December, and I wanted to post some photos I took there of happier times in the city, before the air raid sirens and Grad rockets.


This bakery in the old town centre serves the most wonderful simple, and cheap local specialties. It also has a palm tree growing through the roof!



Kids adore this whale!




I love walks on the long beach and marina

Rosh Hashanah musings in the middle of the night

I don't know what it is about Rosh Hashanah eve, but it seems that all this reflection and awe of the annual Day of Judgement and Remembrance puts me in the mood to write, and seems to give me a little more clarity than usual, well, at least it seems that way at 2am.

I put it down to all the extra time in the kitchen - just me and my thoughts, and a routine of traditional dishes to cook surrounded by sweet spices and honey. My hands do the work while my mind wanders off in a cloud of cinnamon, cloves, cardamom and cumin.

A lot of folks and a lot of cultures relate to the New Year more as a time of partying and celebration, and I guess there is something of that tension in Rosh Hashanah. Yes. it is a festival with special delicious sweet foods, a time for family to be together, a time to welcome the New Year with joy and special treats.

More than that though it is a time for stock taking of the soul, for reflection and sincere soul searching. Not for nothing we blow the shofar, the ram's horn, during the long, extended Rosh Hashanah synagogue services. It's stirring, jarring sound is meant to shake us from the reverie of routine, to remind us that the time is now, Rosh Hashanah is already here, wake up, look within you, make the change, seize the day for new beginnings, for being a better person, for repairing the error of your ways.

This is also a time for forgiveness with no questions asked, a time when we are commanded to go to our friends and family and sincerely apologise for the hurt that each one of us has caused, whether unintentionally or in a rash moment of anger or thoughtlessness. For old friends to renew neglected contacts and those who have feuded or grown apart to seek reconciliation and restore friendships.

Not for nothing is this time in the Jewish year called the Days of Awe (Yamim Noraim). Jewish tradition holds that the world was born on Rosh Hashanah. In the Rosh Hashanah prayer service there is the phrase "Today is the birthday of the world, today all the creatures of the world stand in judgement".

Another traditional Rosh Hashanah prayer describes how all the world is judged by God on this day, passing before Him like sheep, one by one. We pray that all will be inscribed in the book of life, that our good deeds will be found to be as numerous as the seeds of a pomegranate, and yet we know, that as people, we are imperfect, we are not good at suppressing that evil inclination which makes us, even the best and holiest of us, do wrong. And so we also pray that if our merits are in short supply, at least we can fall upon divine mercy.

True repentence, prayer and tzedakah (charity and justice, depending on how one translates it) can help. It is not that they pacify God, it is that they make us better people, make us refocus our lives to fulfill the divine commandments to emulate God's mercy and kindness. That, after all is Rosh Hashanah. To make us take a step back from the humdrum routine and improve ourselves, so that we might do our part to make this troubled world a better place.

God judges us, but the free will that He gave us also means that it is up to us as well, and whether we take the experience of Rosh Hashanah and use it to truly start afresh and make a positive difference in the coming year.

Look back over the last year, cast your gaze around the troubled globe and tremble at how much can happen in 12 months. Look forward and tremble for what may yet come.

There is nothing like living in the Middle East to add extra sincerity and dedication in one's prayers, I imagine that living on the slopes of a volcano might induce a similar degree of piety. A glance at the headlines from the last week of the year is enough to focus anyone's prayers.

Hard to believe that a year has gone by since last summer's war and aftermath. For Israelis, more than ever, it was a year of soul searching, of the Winograd inquiry into the how the war was conducted, of questioning whether we have lost our way, or whether Israeli has lost that spark that has saved our nation time and time again.

A year has passed an still on a national level it seems that things have stood still. The same government is still in office, despite Winograd, despite protests. Kassams continue to rain down on Sderot and the north-west Negev and the government continues to make uncertain noises in response. Tension with Syria remains, a little heightened, but last summer wasn't exactly calm. The tension over Iran's intentions remains. Lebanon still teeters on the brink of more civil unrest. Yes sir, the synagogues should be extra full this year.

And yet, and yet, somehow living on the slopes of the volcano we take all this in our stride. We have faith that somehow we'll work our way out, muddle through, however incompetent our government seems, however much the odds seem to be stacked against us.

May we all be inscribed in the book of life, for health, for happiness and for peace.

Shana tova.

The rains are here - Yippee!!!

Yesterday was the Jewish festival of Shmini Atzeret, the culmination of this month's festive season and the day on which Jews begin praying for rain in the Land of Israel

It was actually rather of striking that the last few days had been a searing sharav, also known as a hamsin, fiercely dry hot weather, characterised by overcast, hazy skies and hot dry winds which bring choking sand and dust in from the southern and eastern deserts. That kind of weather is enough to stir anyone to pray fervently for rain...

As I was walking to synagogue in the early morning that thick heat was still in the air. It was incredibly hot, the dusty air caught in everyone's throats, I couldn't talk or sing without breaking into a coughing fit.

By around midday though, just as the prayers for rain were about to begin a refreshing breeze began to blow and fluffy little white clouds began to drift in, replacing the smokelike stratus clouds of the sharav.

It was quite uncanny, as the prayers for rain got underway the sky clouded over more with each solemn hymn the shaliah tzibur (cantor) intoned, beseeching God for water "Cause the winds to blow and the rain to fall!"

By the time we were walking home you could almost smell the impending rain in the air. As soon as the festival ended that night my husband went and took down our sukkah.

By the early hours of the morning, when I got up to give my baby her next feed I could hear the pitter patter of rain against the windows.This morning (Sunday) we already had some puddles to splash in during a morning walk, squeezed between a medium rain shower and a massively heavy downpour, complete with thunder. On the news this evening the meteorological office announced that the yoreh, the first autumnal rains of the wet season, have officially arrived. Yippee! This is what "Singing in the Rain" was really written about.

In the language of the prayer I would like to wish all the peoples of this region a good rainy season:
For a blessing and not for a curse
For life and not for death
For sustenance and satisfaction and not for starvation and scarcity.
לברכה ולא לקללה
לחיים ולא למוות
לשובע ולא לרזון

Amen!