The antithesis of the terrorist attack in Hadera last night and the conference this morning on cooperation with five foreign ministers of middle east countries is unbelievable to me.
First, let me tell you about the site of the conference. A few months ago we were there for a few days. Even though it was the Negev, as luck would have it, it was raining most of the time. Fortunately, it is a stone’s throw from Ben Gurion’s house and we had a chance to walk over for a visit. We also had a wonderful visit to Ovdat, the ancient Nabatean site, and the Zinn river – What a perfect environment for reconciliation! Egypt, Morocco, the Emirates, the US, and Israel – and they spoke of friendship and cooperation with the Palestinians. Even though I know how suspicious my Arab friends are of this union, let’s pray a cooperation can be realized.
The news from Hedera is terrifying, with two dead so far, but the worst part is that the terrorists are from Um El Fahm – a place that my son visits regularly and some of my favorite acquaintances live. The fact that the recent terrorism is coming from local Arabs is an incredibly bad indication of the difference between our evaluations of the Arab-Jewish relations and an apparent reality.
At this moment I am waiting for Ezi to do his PET-CT. I am surrounded by staff and patients who seem completely similar, but at least a quarter are Arab. It is almost midnight and we are probably going to be here all night, as the news slowly unfolds on the television over our heads. how amazing!
The television keeps interviewing Bedouin who keep denying any connection with the perpetrator of the murder three days ago. My grandson at lunch today spoke of the highlight of his high school trip to the south this week was the visit to a Bedouin village. Bedouin hospitality is famous, but this week our suspicions have been aroused because one mass murderer was influenced by Isis. We must always be on guard against the generalizations we make about people and individuals. Even though it helps us cut through so many complexities. Sometimes it even saves our lives, and sometimes it damages our lives.
Here’s an admission – years ago I wasn’t too happy when I heard my cleaner was Ukrainian. I had heard such terrible stories from survivors about the kind of glee the Ukrainians took in their participation in the Holocaust, that even though she had converted decades before upon her marriage to a Jew, it took me ages to be comfortable with her. I’ve long since learned to double my instincts, to multiply my desire for connection with my stereotyped fears. For example, a few years ago we were with friends at the Sachne, a natural swimming hole which is often people with local Arabs. I think the men we were with disappeared for a swim, but the woman with me would not go near the water. Most of the females in the pool were children anyway – the other women were all in hijabs and seemed to think it was unfitting. So when I entered the water, I was mobbed by girls who wanted me to judge their races. I knew very little Arabic and what I did know I forgot in the excitement, but I found myself declaring winners, encouraging losers, coaching style, and, ultimately, teaching diving. It was a world I remembered from my days of camp counseloring, and the afternoon gave me particular pleasure, especially when I encountered the disapproving looks of the woman I was with.
Every day I get another letter criticizing Israel. Today it was a letter and a phone call. The letter was about how Israel is so selfish it won’t share the iron dome with Ukraine. The thing is that Israel is a very small country, and could fit into a pocket of Ukraine. And if the Hamas and Hizballah were using rockets the size of Russia’s, we would disappear in a minute. Many of the buildings in Ukraine are still standing, albeit in skeleton form, but there would be nothing left of our house if one of those bombs fell in our neighborhood.
The phone call was from a friend in New York who left Israel years ago in protest over the occupation. She came to the understanding suddenly that we aren’t the worst country in the world. It is very hard to be good and moral in a world in which everyone else is not following your rules. Or any rules for that matter.
While the weather is still unseasonably cold, and we’re waiting for the promised rain today, the sun is still shining, and I’m going to take a shower and do my inhalations and smile into the mirror. We’ve had some scares – the rise in corona and polio, the inevitable rise in terrorism – but the dog we’re trying to train let us sleep all night and didn’t pee all over, and i think i can overcome the obstacles to my little hebrew book on Egypt, and Asher Reich is going to help us. So there are positivie things in the world. And the sun is still shining.
I keep the tv on while I’m reading a book, since my voice is gone and my head isn’t working with all that codeine I’m getting. The book, Cairo Circles by Doma Mahmoud, is about a guy whose cousin blows himself up in a terrorist attack. And the news they are interviewing a cousin of the Bedouin who stabbed 4 people to death before he was killed. The cousin on TV is asking that the country dedicate a day of learning about this kind of incident. He’s just said that his cousin is from a normative family and no one had an inkling of his extremist beliefs.
In honor of the first day of spring, my doctor is changing my antibiotics.
Seriously, guys, it is bitter cold around here – even the trees don’t know how to behave. Some are shedding and some are blossoming.
Every year we turn off the central heating on March 15. For the past few years, we’ve even turned it off weeks before. The determining factor is always my feet. That is, when I begin to complain that my feet are cold, Ezi consults with Shlomo and they agree to ask Tami to collect the payments of those residents who participate in the under-floor heating pipes. Usually we run out of money for the heater by mid-March and my feet are okay. So we stop. This year I’ve been turning on all the air-conditioners to warm and I’m still sick all the time.