A belated post...
Since September, I have been on a volunteering program in Israel. Israel, where the landscape is foreign to a Russian-born Bostonian, and the mindset is painfully familiar. Israel, where kids in schools act the way they do at home, and their teachers yell at them the way they would yell at their kids. Israel, where these same kids go into the army right after finishing high school, and return mature, competent adults. Israel, which can be crossed in seven hours going north to south, and in one hour going west to east. Crammed into this space are deserts, seashores, villages, cities, mountains, rivers, ruins. Israel, where a month ago, I had this conversation:
- Mama? I just wanted to tell you not to worry. I don't know whether you've seen the news - yes, of course you have.
- Well, the rockets aren't coming anywhere near me, so don't worry. I'm in Ramle, remember? The middle of nowhere. All the rockets are hitting further south. Those that get through the Iron Dome, anyway.
- No, really, I'm fine. They don't have that many rockets that can fly as far as Ramle, and those are all flying at Tel Aviv. Or Jerusalem, I heard they fired at Jerusalem. Anyway, I'm too far east for one and too far west for the other. And there's no reason for them to fire at Ramle. Besides, there's too many Arabs here - they don't want to hit their own relatives. That was a joke. Mostly. I think. That's what everyone keeps saying, anyway.
- What? No, we have an old building, so we don't have a special bomb shelter room. There's a bomb shelter outside in the parking lot, but we wouldn't have time to get to it in 90 seconds. They told us just to get away from the southward rooms and sit on the floor, away from windows.
- Yes, I'm sure I can't make it to the bomb shelter.
- Three minutes at least. Maybe two and a half.
- Yes, I'm sure.
- Time myself? Are you kidding?
- Seriously, Mama? Nothing is going to happen. And if it does, it would be worse to be caught outside next to the bomb shelter, so I'm not risking that.
- Mama, stop panicking. Even if I time myself, the time will be different in a real emergency.
- Come on. Are you serious?
- Fine, then.
- Mama? You're there? There's a big lock on the door of the bomb shelter. So no, I'm not running out there.
- Yes.
- Yes.
- No.
- Yes.
- Nothing will happen, anyway. I mean it. Why would anyone shoot at Ramle, of all places?
And then, a couple of days later, I overheard a young man talking on his phone on a bus:
- Allo? Yeah, it's me. Listen, I just got the call, so I'm on my way to my car now. Then I'm going straight south.
- That's right. It's - they left me a message on my phone. I have just enough time to get my car and go. You know. It's a four-hour drive.
- Yeah, there won't be any time before I leave.
- Yeah.
- I was talking to Omer, you know, and the others, and all of them had been called up already, and then I checked my phone, and the message was there.
- Yeah.
- Listen, while I'm gone, will you look after Shorty for me? I love you too, babe. Just - take him out at least once a day, ok? The food's under the sink in the kitchen. Ok? Yeah, love you, babe.
- Listen, babe, this is important. If my mother calls, I haven't told her where I'm going. She thinks I'm going north, so don't tell her, ok? I don't want her to worry.
- Thanks, babe. I just don't want her to know I'm going south. Take care of Shorty, ok, babe? Love you.
- I won't be able to tell you anything, so don't worry. Yeah. Love you. Yeah. Fucking Hamas. Love you, babe. Bye.
He had an Israeli accent and impeccable grammar. There was only one thing I could do for him: pretend I had not understood a single word. The only valuable thing I could give him was his privacy. Words are easy.
- Mama? I just wanted to tell you not to worry. I don't know whether you've seen the news - yes, of course you have.
- Well, the rockets aren't coming anywhere near me, so don't worry. I'm in Ramle, remember? The middle of nowhere. All the rockets are hitting further south. Those that get through the Iron Dome, anyway.
- No, really, I'm fine. They don't have that many rockets that can fly as far as Ramle, and those are all flying at Tel Aviv. Or Jerusalem, I heard they fired at Jerusalem. Anyway, I'm too far east for one and too far west for the other. And there's no reason for them to fire at Ramle. Besides, there's too many Arabs here - they don't want to hit their own relatives. That was a joke. Mostly. I think. That's what everyone keeps saying, anyway.
- What? No, we have an old building, so we don't have a special bomb shelter room. There's a bomb shelter outside in the parking lot, but we wouldn't have time to get to it in 90 seconds. They told us just to get away from the southward rooms and sit on the floor, away from windows.
- Yes, I'm sure I can't make it to the bomb shelter.
- Three minutes at least. Maybe two and a half.
- Yes, I'm sure.
- Time myself? Are you kidding?
- Seriously, Mama? Nothing is going to happen. And if it does, it would be worse to be caught outside next to the bomb shelter, so I'm not risking that.
- Mama, stop panicking. Even if I time myself, the time will be different in a real emergency.
- Come on. Are you serious?
- Fine, then.
- Mama? You're there? There's a big lock on the door of the bomb shelter. So no, I'm not running out there.
- Yes.
- Yes.
- No.
- Yes.
- Nothing will happen, anyway. I mean it. Why would anyone shoot at Ramle, of all places?
And then, a couple of days later, I overheard a young man talking on his phone on a bus:
- Allo? Yeah, it's me. Listen, I just got the call, so I'm on my way to my car now. Then I'm going straight south.
- That's right. It's - they left me a message on my phone. I have just enough time to get my car and go. You know. It's a four-hour drive.
- Yeah, there won't be any time before I leave.
- Yeah.
- I was talking to Omer, you know, and the others, and all of them had been called up already, and then I checked my phone, and the message was there.
- Yeah.
- Listen, while I'm gone, will you look after Shorty for me? I love you too, babe. Just - take him out at least once a day, ok? The food's under the sink in the kitchen. Ok? Yeah, love you, babe.
- Listen, babe, this is important. If my mother calls, I haven't told her where I'm going. She thinks I'm going north, so don't tell her, ok? I don't want her to worry.
- Thanks, babe. I just don't want her to know I'm going south. Take care of Shorty, ok, babe? Love you.
- I won't be able to tell you anything, so don't worry. Yeah. Love you. Yeah. Fucking Hamas. Love you, babe. Bye.
He had an Israeli accent and impeccable grammar. There was only one thing I could do for him: pretend I had not understood a single word. The only valuable thing I could give him was his privacy. Words are easy.