There are three new buildings being raised right around our co-op, primarily by workers who come in every day from the West Bank or Gaza. A few days ago I spoke to one of them in the little grocery store. Tall, shy, a teenager, he could speak only Arabic and comes over the border every day. From Gaza, he comes through the Erez crossing.
But I won’t be seeing him for a while. The crossing was destroyed yesterday when hundreds of nearby residents were slaughtered in their shelters.
The demonstrations were cancelled last night – most of the pilots, the soldiers, the navy, the doctors – were in the sites of the catastrophe, trying to clean up the remains of the slaughter, to treat survivors, to find some of the terrorists who may still be around.
I still haven’t been in touch with my friend from the northern border – her information about the explosions in the night from Hizballah would be more accurate than the news but her Parkinson’s make it impossible for her to use the morning for anything but getting herself ready for the day, and she has to focus.
Since I live in the middle of Tel Aviv, all we had to do was stay home and be ready to race the few flights down to the shelter when the sirens go off. So we were woken at six thiry in the morning and went up and down a few days. A whatsapp from an Arab neighbor asked whether it was safer to just stay in the stairwell, but we explained that the shelter was preferable. The rest of the day we spent glued to the television and on the phone to check on family. Then in the evening the bombs began again and we ran down and up and down and up.
We are chicken – a while ago we took a demanding tourist to the settlements on the Gaza border, but refused to get too close. She wanted to see Gaza, but we shivered and drove her back home. Now I am sure that more than a quarter of the residents in that pastoral moshav are gone.
Every single mother, every single baby, every single old lady in that moshav is in my mind now, as I get out of the clothes I slept in, and get ready for a new day.
oct 8, 2023 – morning Read Post »