More Normal, Less Normal

by Judy Lash Balint

Jerusalem, October 26--The number of Israelis who have not been effected in some way by four weeks of violence, destruction and disruption is growing smaller by the day.

For those living in areas where nightly shooting and daily stone throwing have become almost routine, the situation is taking its toll. Anita in Tekoa told me today that she's resigned to the fact that the direct road between Tekoa and Jerusalem will remain closed for the duration of the hostilities. The road hasn't been open in four weeks. It means that a routine trip to the city which used to take 30-40 minutes now takes at least one and a half hours--and that's only if you're familiar with the back roads. Her son who attends school in Jerusalem no longer has the freedom to hang out with his friends after school. There's one bus with protected windows provided by the regional council which picks up the school kids from Tekoa and neighboring communities.

Social workers and pyschologists have been sent to Psagot and Gilo where the nightly barrages of gunfire have unnerved some residents. Some are considering the offer of kibbutzim in the northern Galilee which have invited Giloans to use their guest house facilities for free.

For others, the hardship is economic. The domino effect of the sudden halt in tourism can be seen all over. Hotels close, workers are laid off. Restaurants and shops in the major cities are significantly emptier than usual. Tour guides and bus companies sit idle. Then there's the economic impact of the border closures. Natan, a US born commercial plumber from Nes Tziona says that several of the projects his company had been working on have now ground to a halt because they had relied on Palestinian laborers.

Many men are still being called for reserve duty. Eli, the forty-something moderator of a newslist for immigrants posted the following comment upon his return to civilian life after two weeks of duty:
"As far as the past two weeks I can only tell you that for some reason much of the violence (arab sniper fire, attacks on vehicles etc.) is not even reported by Israeli news. Maybe it is a good thing. Considering the tensions many of us are going through I would probably recommend that someone start a temporary discussion group for all these type of topics and to deal with the difficulties of dealing with our children ( what to tell them) and the feelings that no matter what we do we will be blamed for it."

Some Israelis have had to adapt to wartime conditions. In Psagot nights in the shelters are now routine. Most Jews in Hebron are living behind sandbagged windows. David, a father of seven tells Reuters: "Sometimes I escort my six-year-old down the hall to go to the bathroom at night," Wilder said. "But kids are very adaptable. He said the other night 'Ahhh, they're shooting again', and went back to sleep."

Even those Israelis who've given up on politics in favor of sport cannot remain unaffected. The European Basketball league cancelled a game tonight which was to have pitted Hapoel Yerushalayim against Real Madrid at the Teddy Stadium just down the hill from Gilo.

Then there are the Shas party activists who suspended a hunger strike which was going on outside the President's residence in Jerusalem for a few days because it didn't seem appropriate in the current circumstances. Strikers were calling for an amnesty for their imprisoned leader Aryeh Deri.

Many Bar Mitzvahs and weddings have been scaled down or rescheduled for day time hours because no one wants to travel at night outside of the big cities.

As if all that disruption weren't enough, yesterday Tel Aviv and Bat Yam experienced their annual flooding episode. Every winter when the first deluge descends, the inadequate and illegaly constructed sewer system of several south Tel Aviv neighborhoods gives way under the strain. But yesterday's flooding was even more impressive than usual. From the air, Bat Yam and south Tel Aviv looked like Bangla Desh in a bad monsoon season. Hundreds were evacuated by IDF rubber dinghies and a four year old boy drowned when his mother could no longer hold him above the flood waters. The main Ayalon north-south highway was completely impassable. Despite the downpour meterologists caution that we're still facing serious water shortage problems.

I learned of the catastrophe on the morning news. But I almost dropped my coffee cup when I tuned in half a minute after the start of the broadcast. All I heard when I turned on the radio was hysterical screaming about "I have nothing left. No home, nothing." The announcer came on intoning that 300 people have been evacuated in Tel Aviv. Of course my immediate thought was that the Arabs had started shooting in Israel's largest central city and that everything had escalated to a new level. Despite the misery of the flooded out families, I was almost relieved to learn from the announcer's next sentence that we were talking about flooding not bombing.

But despite all the tension, many organizations are making an effort to conduct their normal activities. A few nights ago I went to a meeting of the AACI computer club where a congenial group of middle aged computer nerd wannabes did their best to impress each other by quoting the megs, pixels and size of their latest hardware purchases.

Tonight I went to the opening of the magnificent new Mercaz Shimshon, a cultural arts facility designed by renowned architect Moshe Safdie, which adjoins Beit Shmuel, the center for the World Union for Progressive Judaism. The Reform complex is on prime property next to Jerusalem's Hilton Hotel in the Mamilla area overlooking the walls of the Old City. The building isn't quite ready yet because Palestinian construction workers have not been coming in to work lately, but movement leaders decided anyway to go ahead with the event.

The opening event was a free concert by the Israel Camerata followed by a fabulous reception in the covered elegant courtyard. Many of the foreign invited guests failed to show, but the rest of us who were drawn to the free event by the prospect of a serene evening of classical music and good food were not disappointed.

So, life goes on-- more normal for those in Israel's large cities, less normal for others isolated or under direct fire.