israeli politics

internet under fire - 3.4.26

There’s really nothing to do between the many rockets that are falling – After a few days of this, we’re a little practiced in this, and can race down to shelter without two much panic.  But I finding it hard to read or to do anything consecutive.  A good book would be wasted with all these interruptions.  So I started fixing this website.  It’s a long process because I made all kinds of mistakes along the way, and probably wasted too much money to make sure this is safe.  And I see now I missed lots of mail i may never be able to recover.  

However, what I have discovered is that the internet is an incredible patchwork of repetitious and conterproductive links, leads, dead ends, and dangerous monsters, and it has all been created by a billion teenagers who are trying to win something without letting others get in the way. 

It is very edifying and appropriate to figure out these mazes, and I’m proud that I’ve made a little safe corner for you to read these little missives. 

internet under fire – 3.4.26 Read Post »

israeli politics

what worries me - 3.3.26

Clearly I’ve lost my sense of what is important.  After the morning rockets I decided we had to go food shopping.  It took us a while to rest up after the run to the shower and the interrupted breakfast but we got out at 11, raced to the supermarket, and managed to get everything on the list, although I would have preferred going to the coffee store as well. 

But as we drove into the driveway, the warning began to sound.  And I stood there with my cart trying to decide what to do with the milk.  Fortunately I woke up and we raced with our cart into the hall, left the groceries by the door upstairs, and raced down to the shelter. 

What worries me is that there was a debate in my head to save the milk or my life.

And of all the links I’ve been sent, the one most important to me right now is about the chances of getting caught in the shower with a rocket alert.  

Then there is the matter of etiquette.  For example, with all the selection of broken and breaking chairs in the shelter, how can the comfortable ones be saved for the slow-moving octogenerians in our buildings?  People coming in from the street are of course welcome, but must they be directed to the broken chairs?  And who would do the directing?  

What do we do with uneducated guests who are running away from rockets in our shelter?  One neighbor educated three teenage boys who were ready to leave the shelter berfore the all clear warning because they heard so much Arabic in the crowd.  She explained to them that these were residents of the building and would be no danger.  I liked her kind explanation even though I entertained letting them leave.  Well, I would have chosen a different etiquette…


Only occasionally do I dare dip into the political questions

what worries me – 3.3.26 Read Post »

israeli politics

playing chess with a pro -3.2.26

I’m not good at playing complex games.  And in my lifetime I’ve found myself in the middle of a game that had different rules than I understood at the beginning, that the strategy had to be planned, shared, ordered.

 The first time, I was 12, at the beach with friends.  I had a violet bathing suit that made me look – for the first time in my life – like I had some hope of becoming a woman – and I was feeling very powerful. 

Next to our blanket I spotted four  boys from school – 10th graders I think – playing Gin, and as a big winner at home, I wanted in.  And I was pleased that they agreed to let me join the ongoing game. 

But when I’d lost the first round I was told (they said reminded) that it was penny ante and I had to pay up 11 cents.  

I will never forget the stress – I’ve never had a stronger will to overcome in my entire life.  I realized the boys had accepted me into the game as a victim and not as a player and I was determined to preserve my honor.  I focussed not only on the cards, but also on the signals they were sending each other, and I won my pennies back.  Maybe 15 cents all together.  With some measly excuse I went back to my blanket.

The boys never said hello to me again in the halls.

I rell this story because I recognized the sense of hubris I had when I won that first game, and I sense that over our heads there might be another game being played.  Why is Iran bombing the British bases in Cyprus.  Doesn’t it realize that Cyprus is in NATO, that Saudi Arabia has just been sold a wealth of weapons, that Dubai and Qatar are very bad enemies to have?  Ah, but Iran has China… 

 

 

playing chess with a pro -3.2.26 Read Post »

israeli politics

habima envelope - 3.2.26

The residents of the heart of Tel Aviv are reacting in many ways to the bombing of this intensely populated area.  The buildings are old and have no protection so are sleeping in the underground parking lots and subway stations.  Some are visiting relatives or countries they’ve always wanted to see.  Many are trying to help the many older residents who don’t know how to get to shelter even if they could remember where to go.  There are holocaust survivors who are still in PTSD from the concentration camps, and children – including my grandchildren – who have already experienced rockets before in their lives.  There are people my age who enjoy their old age by meeting their friends for coffee at the beach – but stay close to shelter now. 

It’s not normal for anyone – Even my granddaughter is helping to clean up the remains of damaged buildinga.   

And tonight is Purim.

 

habima envelope – 3.2.26 Read Post »

israeli politics

false optimism - 3.1.26

We had an afternoon off – from about 1:30, after the killing of 9 people in a shelter in Beit Shemesh.  I took a nap, and woke up thinking that the fact that they said they wanted to go back to negotiations meant that they would stop their reign of terror over us.  I even advised my grandson to prepare to postpone his Purim party for next week.  But now they are attacking again, and we have to get ready to spend the night ready for action.  Such a disappointment.

false optimism – 3.1.26 Read Post »

israeli politics

all Our victims are citizens - 3.1.26

We’ve been in the shelter 16 times since yesterday – each time for at least half an hour and a couple flights of stairs.  There are about 20 people with us – 8 are old people like us, 4 are a family of neighbors who decided that our shelter is safer than theirs, and 8 are students and their visitors.  The old people keep checking their phone and share news, often undesirable news.  The neighbors whitely keep to themselves, and the students seem to be making a bit of a party out of being together – but I have forgotten my Arabic and don’t know what they are discussing.  Since citizens started getting killed by these enormous rockets, all of us have toned our voices down.  Todaydiscussion, of the situation, made us all feel a little toned down.   

all victims are citizens – Read Post »

israeli politics

Rockets over israel and everywhere - 2.28.26

The siren woke us a little after 8 this morning. We were shocked and shaken but dressed, and had some expectation of being woken.  Still, after 7 times of running down 2 flights of stairs,  waiting half an hour or so in a dusty uncomfortable shelter, then returning home to grab something to eat and go to the bathroom before the siren starts again, we are wiped out.  I suppose that’s the point of bombing a city endlessly. 

We’ll probably have to sleep here. So I think I’ll just pop up for some dinner and wash my face and come back again.

There’s no internet in the shelter so I’ll download this when I get back to civilization.  We also get very little news so I don’t know if we’re winning or losing.  What I do know is that a lot of people are dying needlessly, and I hope I’m not one of them.

rockets over israel and everywhere – 2.28.26 Read Post »

israeli politics

mixing it up -2.27.28

While we were visiting the Canary Islands we participated in three carnivals, and each one was totally different from the others.  Each one seemed to exhibit the character of the island, and each one reminded me of a different Purim I’d lived through. 

The second island we visited was Teneriffe, and there the beautiful princesses of the carnival, all so gorgeously dressed they could samba only with their arms and head reminded me of Queen Esther, so much more beautiful than all the other girls in the parade, even though they revealed much more of their vibrating bodies.  I was never Queen Esther – I was always one of the chubby girls dressed in bad taste, until I discovered my true identity.  And that came back to me on the first carnival in Palma when we got to peek at the selection of the queen of the festival from between the tv barriers, and the contestants were all totally at home as cross-dressers.

In Yiddish School we performed a Purim play every year, but the boys never wanted to participate.  Ultimately Velvel became Mordechai, but to my great joy it was I who got to appear on stage with my moustache, whip and turban as Haman.  I loved it as much as the dancers loved their sequins at the festival in Palma. 

But it was at Lanzarotte that my greatest identification with the carnival occurred,  Almost total chaos.  The distinction between the participants and the audience was imperceptible.  Like when we drink so much on Purim we don’t distinguish between Mordechai and Haman.

And now we’re waiting for the powerful missiles of Iran to smash our world.  Tonight.  We go to sleep in our clothes.  And have no idea if we will ever wake up. 

 

mixing it up – 2.27.28 Read Post »