Reflecting on the worst round of violence in Israel since Operation Cast Lead of 2008/2009
On Sunday I wrote, "Now I'm one of those Israelis" caught in a wave of terror (rockets). I feel that even more now after hearing countless times around town, "בגלל המצב/Biglal HaMatzav = Because of the Situation." It's not good when you hear those two Hebrew words; they were ubiquitous during the intifada terror war of ten years ago and have made many an appearance this week to explain why things are different during stretches like this.
What I'll miss about the flare of attacks:
I know what you're thinking, namely "Are you insane?!?" One unexpected positive surprise was that I usually have to make a trip to borrow the key for the piano room. But as that room, like the computer lab, doubles as a bomb shelter, they left it open 24/7 since things heated up. I took advantage of the opportunity to work out the last kinks in learning Dad's beautiful composition, R.S.V.P. There was one fingering I had notated that wasn't working for me, so switching it from a 5-4-3 to a 4-3-2 will help me get through the toughest stretch of the tune. Now I'll keep the momentum going to make the final touches for a gathering I planned for Dad's אזכרה/yahrtzeit (in Yiddish) = the anniversary of his passing (it falls on March 28th/29th on the secular calendar).
What I will most definitely not miss about the last few days:
The fear in the eyes of that poor 5-ish-year-old kid whom I met in the shelter three times, always on the verge of tears.
While all the sirens were startling, being awoken by a siren, count em four times over three nights is the definition of unsettling.
Having to wear running shoes as a survival mechanism in the event of hearing the call to run for shelter.
The whole uncertainty of everything. I was supposed to see Tzipi Livni, the head of the Knesset's opposition and the Kadima party, speak tonight about women and politics. That, along with the first three days of class this week, were cancelled after leaving hundreds of thousands in a limbo state. One of my volunteers in Ashdod had to study for two university exams that in the end were cancelled at the last second, lest she not be prepared for them. Other friends stayed out of town for the time being, having no idea how long said "time being" would in fact be (considerations such as "I ran out of underwear" came into play). Now we please G-d will return to a normal routine.
The fact that this blog was hijacked, forcing me to depict a portrait of South Israel under siege. My life here is beautiful and incredible--prepare to read words saying just that on a much more regular basis.
Most of all, I will not miss the anxiety this caused my dear Mom. If you're in Dallas, please give her a hug and kiss for me.
--
While I certainly did not enjoy it, I for one absolutely felt a sense of mission to be part of the Israeli home front and put those running shoes to use as our security forces did their job. However, that is of course easy for a single, able-bodied person to say. Again, my heart goes out to those with children and babies, and the elderly founders of the country, all of whom struggled to get out of harm's way. Thank G-d the Iron Dome system was so efficient in intercepting the terrorist rockets.
My appeal to the Americans among you on Sunday to join AIPAC or sign their action items came in large part from their impact on the deep security commitment between America and Israel that expedited the development and implementation of Iron Dome. President Obama ensured massive funding of the program (I give credit where credit is due).
But in times like these, there are endless worthwhile causes to support in Israel. I'm sure you'll find something that speaks to you.
As for the moral support, thanks again to everyone who's reached out to me--it means the world to me. You've helped keep my spirits up, which is not an easy task during tenuous times. Don't forget to drop a line to anyone from here to Ashdod--checking in with them goes a long way.
Where does this leave us?
Tragically, the same bull's-eye remains over Beer Sheva and the South, as thousands more rockets rest in waiting. More terrorist "masterminds" remain, and others will fill the roles of those whom the IDF eliminated. Please G-d the same fate will await them.
The bull's-eye has been there the whole time I've been in Beer Sheva. Sometimes I forget about it. During quiet months, that can be quite easy.
This experience makes me love this crazy city of sandstorms and bizarre traffic circle sculptures--and more importantly her residents--not less, but far, far more.
While Beer Sheva is very dear to me, I have not invested heavily in it. My stuff is here; I am renting a room on a one-year lease.
Nearly four years ago I blogged about my decision to vote for the center-right Likud party under the leadership of Benjamin Netanyahu. While the (somewhat hypothetical) bull's-eye is there over all of the country, as of this week the farthest that terror rockets from Gaza have reached is now the Gadera area, inching closer to Tel Aviv. Hizbollah terror rockets from Lebanon showered the North back in 2006.
So now that I have felt that bull's-eye in a much more tangible sense than I did as a Jerusalem resident, I certainly can't see myself shifting anywhere to the left on the political spectrum. The painfully clear exchange of land for thousands of terror rockets, as Lebanon in 2000 and Gaza in 2005 played out, makes me damn glad that my party and this government fully understand the risk that accompanies territorial retreats. In a situation with no good options, I trust and believe in my political and military leadership's efforts to keep me safe. I wrote back in 2008 about my desire to someday buy a house in Israel in hopes that it would truly be a safe haven for my future family. Waves of rockets across a region of over a million citizens certainly don't build that kind of confidence. One sure-fire way to include more Israeli homes in the line of fire is territorial compromise. Now, how best to foil terrorists' plans is a question only G-d can answer; us human Israelis deal only in least-bad options.
Relativity
There is this weird relative scale of how sane someone is around here.
Zionism in itself is an irrational ideology. Why on earth would one move to a tiny country (31.5 Israels (defined as the total area under Israeli law) could fit in Texas; Israel's narrowest width, from Netanya to Tulkarem in the West Bank is 9 miles) surrounded by hostile neighbors?
My answer: I feel that my life mission is filled here--to serve Israeli older adults, to live a meaningful passionate life, try to improve a nascent society with rampant problems and injustices, to be a part of the epicenter of the Jewish present and future, to constantly learn and improve my Hebrew every day.
Nonetheless, some think I am insane to have moved here. Example:
"Have a mint, I'm moving abroad and want to get rid of them," Me
"Where ya movin?" dude I met in Austin
"Israel." Me
"F&(@." Dude
Countless others expressed that very sentiment (though always far more subtly).
Incredibly, I got that same sentiment from many a former neighbor in Jerusalem when I informed them of my move to Beer Sheva.
It's been a wild ride from that 2008 weekend in Austin to Jerusalem to Beer Sheva.
So I decided to stay in Beer Sheva over three-plus rather long days. I got offers from two friends to ditch town and stay with them in Jerusalem. While much appreciated, I decided to stay, as I had work to do here.
I take those Home Front Command instructions that I posted Sunday very seriously. They save lives, p-e-r-i-o-d. So I stayed in the shelter for the full ten minutes after each siren ended. One guy in my building got some cardio out of not following that instruction--going back up to the fourth floor only to come right back down a few minutes later.
Others blatantly flaunted the instructions altogether. I asked a man at synagogue if there was a nearby shelter. "There's no shelter here, only G-d can protect us. I was caught walking outside during one siren; I just kept walking." Thank G-d he was ok; that game plan in my mind is not so sane, but it works just fine for him.
Well, they say adversity puts hair on your chest. I could go for a beard. For now I'm somehow still rocking just the three piddly little patches of facial hair.
For now back to R.S.V.P. then bed--I have an early morning at work tomorrow aiming to expand Project La'ad's efforts to reach area Holocaust survivors and help clarify their financial benefits. Much love,
אריק/Eric
with my roommates (yes, of course, the maize and blue Michigan chanukia is mine--let's GO BLUE and win the Sugar Bowl!). 
