I think I’ve been silent on Iron Dome too long. Maybe I’ve mentioned the many times it saved my life. Maybe I’ve told you about the times I’ve seen rockets diverted from very populated places and about the big surprises that always await us. As much as my heart is with the people of Gaza I don’t think that rockets are a good way to talk and show us that they are good neighbors. It is difficult to counter the arguments that their satisfaction can only come with our total destruction.
It is something I think about often – in the middle of the most joyful of celebrations. I know I am privileged to have these moments of joy, that my fate could well have been that of my cousins and my grandmothers. Today may be one of our last times to swim in the sea this season, but I promise I’m going to enjoy it with all my heart – because I know how lucky I am. It’s this moment that is perfect.
And a few hours later I can assure you that I did, indeed, enjoy it. Not only the sea, the hummus, the beer, and the happy-go-lucky waiters, but also the mix of people. Most of the fun lovers have gone back to school and work and the beach and promenade was left to the serious people. 1. the joggers and the runners. Among the usual bourgoise joggers was a group of fifty boys in black who ran about 5 kilometers and back. Meira said that maybe they were commemorating Babi Yar, but I think they were just in training for the army. 2. the lovers. There are always couples sitting on the benches and maybe kissing, but for the first time I saw religious couples – boys in suits s and the strings of their tsitsit showing from under their jackets walking along at a proper distance from the girls in long flowing dresses. 3. the old Arab ladies out for an evening stroll, with canes. The last was most significant to me because I had just come from a swim and was wearing only a tunic over my bathing suit and the woman stopped in her tracks to give me a disapproving look. I think she was about to lecture me on modesty but I just nodded a greeting and kept walking. Her look will enter my dreams tonight. It was not a political disapproval, but a moral one – and I loved her for it.
Oh, shoot. Now that I’ve said that, I’ll probably get bitten by a crab….
Now that the high holidays are over, we have moved to spend the last two days memorializing the Babi Yar massacre. The 30,000-odd people murdered on September 29-30, 1941 led to more and more – as many as 100,000 in all. It is more than I can fathom. I have no words.
Since I got my new car, and started driving again, I have become more and more aware of the dangers of driving here. Rules that are hard and fast for me are merely suggestions for motorcyclists and scooter-riders. And they are harder to spot than the automobiles that zip in and out of lanes. Today a bus was turned over on a highway up north, hit by a car out of control – and a number of people seriously injured. It made me wonder – we are told the number of deaths from corona every day, but I can’t fathom the number of annual deaths from traffic accidents.
Charlie has gone back to his loving family last night and I went back to my holocaust research, fixing footnotes on fast-disappearing texts.
But, as you can see, I’m as infantile and fun-loving as Charlie, and I had to take out a few hours for coffee at the port. Now everyone knows that the port is the best place to spend a morning. And I have to make a very serious confession. The best dressed women were definitely Moslem. More and more I don’t like the Israeli sense of fashion. Time to get a new wardrobe.
I did get a pair of earrings, though.
how does anyone get any work done in this city? I’d love to do some work now but i promised some friends I’d meet them at the beach….
The end of the holidays is particularly joyful for me. I think I’m making my deadlines, can get back to my doctoral students at last, and have finally washed some floors. Three days babysitting a puppy has left me delighted with my empty home and the silence. And from tomorrow, it’s all fun and games. At least until the weekend.
As soon as I said that I knew I was all wrong – that I’m living in a political environ,ent and there is no way to avoid my responsibility.
According to the long list of orders for the care of the puppy, we are supposed to tie up the dog next to our bed every night so he won’t pee in the house. It is the only rule we are incapable of following.
But this leads me to another issue. Our sukkot reading last night was peppered with Jewish ritual that I knew well but didn’t want to participate in and felt suddenly that it was imposed upon me. Suddenly I remembered again why I gradually left religion after I moved to Israel. In the diaspora it is a deliberate choice, one I made every day. Here it is foisted upon me.
Because we’re babysitting my grandchildren’s puppy, and he’s learning fast, but has to be taken out 6 times a day until we get it right, I could barely get anything done today – The only zoom I could do was our IAWE’s annual sukkot ‘ushpizin’ where we welcome everyone in for a reading. it will be on youtube soon, but right now i’m regretting not having warned you in advance.
With all that is going on in the world, we broke the ice by talking about puppies and dogs. I was asked which was my favorite and I thought of Mocha. Why? Because he taught me how to treat him. I have to keep remembering it – that we learn to live with others by their teaching us.