Rockets
This post is going to be a little off topic compared to the past posts. This blog has been about my experiences as a parent. The fact that we live in Israel, I try to keep in the background. I didn't want this blog to be culturally opaque for those Americans reading it. However the situation here in Israel at the moment is making it more difficult for me not to write about how it affects our lives. With this short introduction over with, I am going to dive into politics - ready or not.
The sirens went off for the first time about three weeks ago. We were spending the night at my in-laws. At around midnight they began. The sound is unmistakable, even to those like me who have never heard it before except in movies and on the news. We were all new to the war. I went downstairs. No one knew what to do. Who would fire at the Kibbutz anyway? I looked outside to see people with suitcases and bags walking to bombshelters. I went back upstairs to the girls. My heart was pounding. I eventually fell back to sleep. We joked about it in the morning. Rockets had fallen about 15-20 minutes from the Kibbutz, far enough away for us still feel safe.
The second time wasn't so pastoral. We were at a friend's home, an open house for parents and children. Immediately children began crying. My heart started racing. Parents ran frantically around the yard looking for their children. I grabbed R and ran to find K, calling her name along with the other parents calling to their children. We have been told by the government when the siren goes off to go into a building away from exterior walls or windows. The house had a safe room. We crammed ourselves into the tiny room that had been used as a walk-in closet. There wasn't enough room for everyone so some of the parents sat on the floor in the entrance to the safe room. We waited, talking to the children, trying to explain what was going on. One father told his son it was just the siren of an ambulance. I decided not to tell K something else. She didn't buy the story anyway. Af ter a couple of minutes, we left the room to watch the tv to see what had happened. Nothing was on the news yet. I called O, did he know anything? Should I take the girls to my in-laws? I decided to wait a little until things cleared and then to decide. It was a mistake. The sirens had gone off but no rockets had fallen.
And now for the third time. The siren went off in the evening. We were all home. We didn't do anything, after all the last time had been a mistake. Again no rockets but also no notification from the government that it had been a mistake. My neighbor said the rockets were going to fall tonight in our area. O laughed and said she had been watching too much tv. Everyone in Israel has been watching too much tv. AT 9:00 pm I was in the shower. Again the siren. This time it was at night on Shabbat. There is a lot less background noise. We could hear the siren clearly - the characteristic wavering. The girls were asleep. O was watching tv. He was waiting for me to watch the movie we rented. Again, I didn't know what to do, where to go? Our home is all exterior walls with a tile roof. There is the neighborhood bombshelter. We had passed it earlier this eveing. I had noted the lights were on inside. O came to me. I asked him what he thinks we should do. He told me to finish taking the shower. I shampoed my hair. Then I heard the booms - first one and then another. Not very close but definite. And I am wet and sudsy. My babies are in bed sleeping. And they are shooting at us - they are really fucking shooting at us. I leave the shower and quickly get dressed. O is glued to the news. I look on the internet. Where have the rockets fallen? The television broadcaster keeps saying my town's name. Lights are on all over the neighborhood. People are outside looking for the plumes of smoke, trying to see where the rockets fell. It is night and they can't be seen. For 45 minutes we watch the news. One of the broadcasters is wearing a button-down shirt with the collar open - he had been on his way home after broadcasting the Friday night news when they called him back. They don't know where the rockets fell. We don't know what to do if more come. The phone starts ringing. Friends and family call to ask if we heard the sirens and the rockets. My sister-in-law calls to say they just called up O's brother. He is a reservist in Tanks. What E is heading north, now? On Friday night? He is going to go fight in Lebanon? Suddenly, nothing seems normal anymore. The present is out of control. The future looks so uncertain. We get bored of the news. We turn on the movie, watch it and go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow will bring more clues as to what is going on here.
The sirens went off for the first time about three weeks ago. We were spending the night at my in-laws. At around midnight they began. The sound is unmistakable, even to those like me who have never heard it before except in movies and on the news. We were all new to the war. I went downstairs. No one knew what to do. Who would fire at the Kibbutz anyway? I looked outside to see people with suitcases and bags walking to bombshelters. I went back upstairs to the girls. My heart was pounding. I eventually fell back to sleep. We joked about it in the morning. Rockets had fallen about 15-20 minutes from the Kibbutz, far enough away for us still feel safe.
The second time wasn't so pastoral. We were at a friend's home, an open house for parents and children. Immediately children began crying. My heart started racing. Parents ran frantically around the yard looking for their children. I grabbed R and ran to find K, calling her name along with the other parents calling to their children. We have been told by the government when the siren goes off to go into a building away from exterior walls or windows. The house had a safe room. We crammed ourselves into the tiny room that had been used as a walk-in closet. There wasn't enough room for everyone so some of the parents sat on the floor in the entrance to the safe room. We waited, talking to the children, trying to explain what was going on. One father told his son it was just the siren of an ambulance. I decided not to tell K something else. She didn't buy the story anyway. Af ter a couple of minutes, we left the room to watch the tv to see what had happened. Nothing was on the news yet. I called O, did he know anything? Should I take the girls to my in-laws? I decided to wait a little until things cleared and then to decide. It was a mistake. The sirens had gone off but no rockets had fallen.
And now for the third time. The siren went off in the evening. We were all home. We didn't do anything, after all the last time had been a mistake. Again no rockets but also no notification from the government that it had been a mistake. My neighbor said the rockets were going to fall tonight in our area. O laughed and said she had been watching too much tv. Everyone in Israel has been watching too much tv. AT 9:00 pm I was in the shower. Again the siren. This time it was at night on Shabbat. There is a lot less background noise. We could hear the siren clearly - the characteristic wavering. The girls were asleep. O was watching tv. He was waiting for me to watch the movie we rented. Again, I didn't know what to do, where to go? Our home is all exterior walls with a tile roof. There is the neighborhood bombshelter. We had passed it earlier this eveing. I had noted the lights were on inside. O came to me. I asked him what he thinks we should do. He told me to finish taking the shower. I shampoed my hair. Then I heard the booms - first one and then another. Not very close but definite. And I am wet and sudsy. My babies are in bed sleeping. And they are shooting at us - they are really fucking shooting at us. I leave the shower and quickly get dressed. O is glued to the news. I look on the internet. Where have the rockets fallen? The television broadcaster keeps saying my town's name. Lights are on all over the neighborhood. People are outside looking for the plumes of smoke, trying to see where the rockets fell. It is night and they can't be seen. For 45 minutes we watch the news. One of the broadcasters is wearing a button-down shirt with the collar open - he had been on his way home after broadcasting the Friday night news when they called him back. They don't know where the rockets fell. We don't know what to do if more come. The phone starts ringing. Friends and family call to ask if we heard the sirens and the rockets. My sister-in-law calls to say they just called up O's brother. He is a reservist in Tanks. What E is heading north, now? On Friday night? He is going to go fight in Lebanon? Suddenly, nothing seems normal anymore. The present is out of control. The future looks so uncertain. We get bored of the news. We turn on the movie, watch it and go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow will bring more clues as to what is going on here.
posted by jo @ 2:35 PM
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