It was a meeting of the hevr’e from the reserve unit. Do you remember I told you about these meetings? One of the hevr’e had a birthday. They’d come from all over the country.

They’d been together for years. What hadn’t they been through together? Two Intifadas of combat reserve duty for a start.

But it was a birthday party in a Tel Aviv nightclub that got them.

One of them had brought the invitations to his wedding next month. He was going to give them out to his hevr’e that evening.

He was badly wounded. His lovely bride was killed.

I saw on TV that Zaka, those religious guys who pick up the body parts, came tonight instead of last night because of Shabbat. I don’t know why, I’ve never done this before, but I just got on my bike and went to see.

I took some photos.










posted by Imshin 22:24

Our Sis just rang to say my nephew was just next to that nightclub last night, when the terrorist attack occured. She got a call from him at 11:20pm and he said, "Mum, I'm alright." She didn't know what he was talking about, because it hadn't been picked up by the media yet but she could hear the ambulances in the background as they spoke. I told her I hadn't even thought of him. I'd thought he was safely in the army!
posted by Imshin 19:50

Oy, Israelity is making me nervous. I’m trying to think of something wise and witty and interesting to write there about the wonders of life in Israel, but nothing is coming to mind.

Some commenters find the idea of Israelity boring, but I suppose these are the sort of people who would think Not a Fish boring, so that’s just tough as far as I’m concerned. People who think life should be all excitements and noise and balagan (sorry Rinat, I don’t mean you) are probably of the mental age of the kids in my youngest daughter’s scout troop.

I hate that these people seem to think that if something is boring to them it has no right to exist. Well, the first time I heard a record of the popular Israeli comedy threesome "HaGashash HaHiver" (The Pale Tracker), at the ripe old age of nine with limited knowledge of Hebrew and even less understanding of Israeli humor, I didn’t get it and I was bored out of my mind. I actually remember saying to myself "So this is what they mean when they say 'being bored'". These days I split my sides listening to "HaGashash HaHiver". Boring is definitely relative.
posted by Imshin 19:18

Just got back from a parent-kids meet at scouts. I am in shock. In short: the louder you shout the better. They call it morale. I call it noise. I can’t believe I was once a madricha (leader) in scouts of kids that age and got them to shout just as loud.

Was I mad? No, I was twenty five years younger. Makes you realize how much the way you see the world changes with age.
posted by Imshin 18:57

Sunny day
Allison did a good job of describing the strange morning after feeling.

Lying in bed looking at the bright morning sun reflected on the half closed shutters, I wondered if Youngest and her friend sleeping over at our apartment were awake yet. Just before the sound of their chatter answered my question, I remembered last night’s terrorist attack and realized that everything was so quiet.

You somehow expect the ambulance sirens to just go on and on. But we didn’t even hear them last night. I was watching a sweet Australian romantic comedy with that Welsh guy who stole the show in Notting Hill. He flies off on a deckchair with helium balloons tied to it and comes down in some little town in Eck Velt where he falls head over heels with the only traffic cop in town.

Bish heard about the terrorist attack when the film was over and I was in the shower. My first thought when he came to tell me was, "Oh my God, what if Eldest and her friends had got bored in their sleep-over party and had decided to go out instead?"

Now the likelihood of this happening was less than slim, not even slightly realistic, but it was late, I was tired, and I’d been feeling uneasy about Eldest as it was. She had forgotten her sleeping bag and we’d been trying to contact her all evening. Needless to say she wasn’t answering her cell phone (duh!) and, bad parents that we are, we’d neglected to get the phone number and exact address of the friend throwing the party. We knew the building, but not the last name or the floor number.

Apparently she had been trying to call us as well at one point, but there was something wrong with Bish’s cell phone. It never rains.

Lesson: Just because a child happens to be a very dependable and reliable teenager (tfu tfu tfu) AND she has her cell phone with her (and you’ve checked the battery is charged), doesn’t mean you don’t need to know the telephone number at the place she’s staying.

Honestly, you’d think we’ve been parents for about three days.

And this is when I knew (nearly exactly) where she was and what she was doing. How is it going to be when she’s a bit older and really out on the town?

I know it’s selfish of me to be thinking about my own kids when other people’s kids were actually killed and injured last night. I guess it’s instinctive.

Update: More and more.
posted by Imshin 16:14

Nothing to say 2
Did you notice the mad scramble to point the finger at Hizbullah? ("It's not us. It's them")

Yeah, whatever.
posted by Imshin 09:07

Nothing to say
A nightclub near the beach in Tel Aviv: 4 murdered, nearly 50 wounded.
posted by Imshin 01:34

Like a bad penny.
You remember Jihad Ja’ara, don’t you? He was one of the main ‘heroes’ of the Bethlehem Church of the Nativity siege in 2002. Not greatly loved by local Christians at the time according to an article that appeared in the Washington Times in May 2002:

BETHLEHEM, West Bank — Residents of this biblical city are expressing relief at the exile to Cyprus last week of 13 hard-core Palestinian militants, who they said had imposed a two-year reign of terror that included rape, extortion and executions.

[…]

Palestinians who live near the church described the group as a criminal gang that preyed especially on Palestinian Christians, demanding "protection money" from the main businesses, which make and sell religious artifacts.

According to Bethlehem residents, one of the group's top leaders, Jihad Ja'ara, 29, traveled around town with an M-16 rifle, terrorizing the community.

[…]

Residents also said that Mr. Ja'ara and another top leader, Ibrahim Abayat, took nine Muslims whom they suspected of collaborating with Israel into an apartment near Manger Square and fatally shot them.

Ja’ara ended up living the life of Reilly near Dublin with Rami Kamel. They managed to grumble about this.

The exiles live an hour outside Dublin in an isolated village cut off from Ireland's tiny Arab community. They spend their days practicing conversational English, watching television and cooking meals.

"We are in exile, an isolated exile," Jaara said. They rarely go out. This has been a cold and miserable summer, even by Irish standards. They would like to buy warm clothes, but they say the 118 euros they get each week from the government are barely enough to live on.

Jaara said the only luxuries they allow themselves are occasional telephone calls to their families in the West Bank - and to the other exiles. He said the government promised to grant his wife and four children temporary visas, but he can't afford the expense of a visit.

So sad.

We next heard of Rami Kamel last year, when he found love in exile. Naturally, we were touched.

Not wanting to spoil their marital bliss Ja’ara left the love birds' nest to wander the streets, unchecked and unmonitored by Irish authorities. I remember commenting on this at the time, but I can’t find it now.

It was round about this time that Ja’ara’s nephew attained the exulted state of after-life martyrdom by blowing himself up on an Israeli bus, killing 10 people and injuring 50 others. Ja’ara wasn’t allowed to attend his nephew’s funeral. Heartbreaking.

And now he’s back to his old tricks, even though there are negotiations to bring the ‘Church of the Nativity exiles’ back, seeing as how peace has broken out.

Yesterday a Tanzim activist from Tulkarem by the name of Salam Buakana (Abu al-Id) from Tul Karem was indicted for planning to carry out terrorist attacks. According to the indictment, Abu al-Id contacted Jihad Ja’ara in Ireland, requesting his assistance in planning and funding the attacks.

Ja’ara promised to help and contacted Kais Ubaid, who you’ll remember as the former Arab Israeli who is Hizbullah’s coordinator for the territories and the man behind the abduction of Elhanan Tenenbaum. According to Maariv

They decided that Ubaid would fund the terrorist cell and Ja’ara would be operations officer, deciding on the targets and timetable for carrying out the terrorist attacks.

Ubaid sent money from Lebanon, with which the cell bought a car and booby trapped it. On 8th September 2004, at lunchtime, the car bomb was detonated next to a military patrol near Baqa al-Sharqia in Samaria. It only caused light injuries to the people in the patrol, but the armored jeep was badly damaged. Immediately after the event al-Id called Ja’ara and Ubaid, reporting that the mission had been accomplished, and asking for permission to take responsibility in the name of the al-Aqza Martyrs Brigade, in revenge for the death of one of their activists. Soon afterwards, Ubaid sent another $2500 for further terrorist actions.

The indictment … details a further long list of (similar) terrorist attacks perpetrated by the cell under the instruction of Ja’ara and Ubaid ...

[…]

A short while before the arrest the cell was planning, instructed by Ja’ara and Ubaid, to perpetrate an attack on a synagogue full of worshippers, in a way reminiscent of Baruch Goldstein’s massacre in the Cave of Machpela (in Hebron, 1994, if I am not mistaken - IJ). The indictment says that the explosive charge that Ubaid supplied was intended “for the perpetration of a terrorist attack in a synagogue … with the help of an Israeli Arab”. Ja’ara instructed the members of the cell to find a synagogue that would be hard to approach for rescue forces. The arrest of the eleven members of the cell prevented the massacre.

(My humble translation)

I couldn’t find a link to this story so I’ve scanned the article that was in yesterday’s Maariv. It’s in Hebrew. If that’s no problem for you, you can read it here.
posted by Imshin 15:21

The real world
I spent the evening shift at work filing. Papers. You know, that’s the stuff they knock down trees to make. The stuff that has been rendered unnecessary by… erm… computers.

Not at my place of employment. Oh yes, we still have paper in the public sector in this corner of the Middle East, and plenty of it. Maybe I should say even in this corner of the Middle East, seeing as how we're regarded as this amazing hi-tech empire. Of course, that's in the private sector. The public sector is chronically understaffed and under funded, so sadly we're probably the last ones in the world to enjoy Israel's technological advancement.

There is something so Sisyphean about filing. It never ends. And it bores me so much, I put it off and put it off until it gets so out of hand, I'm like that little girl in that fairy tale who forgot how to tell the little pot to stop making porridge. It takes over. It gets scary. It pours out into the corridor and out into the street. And the more I put it off, the harder it is to do it when I finally get round to it.

To ease my procrastination I have deviously developed a simple but ingenious system of filing in two stages. This creates a situation whereby every piece of paper is easily located if needed, even if it is yet un-filed (properly filed that is), and the real filing (I have to do it in the end) is far less tedious. I'm quite proud of my little system.

What a pity I'm going to be replaced by a computer in the foreseeable future.
posted by Imshin 22:32

Dan Halutz: Centerfold.
Israeli newspapers traditionally supply their readers with a shiny photo of new presidents, prime ministers, chiefs of staff, etc. A lot of people still stick these up on the wall. You often see them decorating small businesses.

When I was little I used to love them, and I confess that on the morning after PM Yitzhak Rabin was murdered I put his commemorative photograph on the wall of my office, where it stayed for a few years, till I moved office and didn’t take it with me.

Someone must like Dan Halutz in Yediot Aharonot, new appointment for IDF chief of staff. He didn’t just get a shiny photo in this morning’s edition. He got a whole centerfold.
posted by Imshin 09:42

Adrian’s Cathy officially became a Brit. This is very strange for me. I’m happy for her, of course. It is a very exciting thing to happen. But it’s been making me think.

I was born a Brit, you see, and I still have the passport to show for it. I even occasionally trot off to the British consular place to renew my passport and the girl’s passports. I politely wait there for hours and hours while they process what seems like thousands of would-be immigrants or foreign workers or something from the far east or somewhere who are probably being thrown out of Israel and would rather go somewhere better than back home (at least, that was what happened last time I was there).

I always have a funny feeling at the British consular place because they have this big picture of the Queen, which seems strangely out of place on the (can’t remember which) floor of the Migdalor Building on 1 Ben-Yehuda Street.

When I find myself actually in England it’s all very familiar. The smells and the sights seem like home. But then again they’re not.

I can hardly understand the accent spoken in the city of my birth and I find it very difficult to handle things like the strangeness of the money, trying to work out which way to look when I’m crossing the road, etc, although these are things I feel I should be able to manage, and that don’t bother me at all, when I’m in other places that aren’t Israel. Do you know what I mean?

What happens when I go to England, I think, is that I feel disoriented. I should feel at home, and I don’t. And I do, sort of. Like it was a place I dreamt this very vivid dream about. It’s too loaded and weird to be a holiday.

That’s probably why I haven’t been for a while. In case anyone was wondering.

All this has nothing to do with Adrian’s Cathy, of course. I’m happy for her, only I'm finding it difficult to identify.

I think I’ll just send Our Sis as my emissary to England, for now (I’m not paying, though). Have a good time, Our Sis.

Afterthought: Maybe I should just go and stop l'balbel bamoa'ch.
posted by Imshin 19:12

I can't believe I didn't see this before. It's Gil. Yes, our Gil.

Scroll right down for the photo of Elysa, who is incredibly beautiful. Or just click here.
posted by Imshin 18:22

New blog and I'm on it!
Israel21c has started a blog. It's a group blog. I've just posted my first post there. I've never been on a group blog before. This is fun.

Hmmm. I wonder if it's too long.
posted by Imshin 15:52

Help!
I’m in hysterics. Youngest has her bi-annual piano recital this evening. She’s quite happy, reading her Einayim quarterly (this is a wonderful magazine for children, published in cahoots with the Israel museum, highly recommended). Why do I always have to be the one who has the butterflies? (Butterflies?! Now isn’t that an understatement? A minor heart attack would probably be more accurate).

I am silly. It’s quite a friendly event. First of all it usually takes place, as it is this evening, in my in-laws’ apartment. Their daughter, Youngest’s cousin, is this amazingly talented pianist of twelve and a half. So Youngest feels quite at home there, and so do we, naturally.

There are usually about six other little girls (there used to be a boy once, we’re told, before Youngest started playing, but he grew up and went into the army). The girls are of varying ages, all lovingly instructed by teacher Tanya. Talented, dedicated, and a really nice person, albeit completely incapable of ever arriving on time, Tanya is a good example of the immense contribution the immigration from the former Soviet Union countries has made to Israel (besides the influx of piano teachers bringing the prices of private piano lessons way down to something reasonably affordable).

Youngest isn’t a bad little pianist for her age, so after I’ve got over my (?!) stage fright it is an opportunity to kvell. Our Sis and I always have tears in our eyes, thinking how Mum would have loved it. Our Sis says it’s alright. She’s sitting up there with her parents, looking down, nudging everyone and saying “Look, that’s my granddaughter”.

I haven’t forgotten a gift for Tanya. I’ve been known to do that. We’ve noticed that Russian students (who arrive dressed in beautiful little dresses with white ribbons in their hair, while our kids are in blue jeans and T-shirts) always bring flowers for the teacher, so I did that for the last few recitals. This time I got her something that won’t die after a few days (unless she drops it).

Update: There were far more than seven this time. And a far larger audience than usual, what with grandparents, uncles, aunts, distant cousins from Ashdod, the guy from the grocery store across the road. You get the picture. Anyway, that would all have been okay if some nasty little girls and their parents couldn't extend to Youngest the same courtesy everyone else had extended to them when they played. It was their horrid parents fault, of course. All things considered, Youngest played beautifully. Knowing her fiery temperament, I was actually surprised she didn't turn round and wallop them.
posted by Imshin 17:23

Ynet in English, at last.

Hat tip, Allison.
posted by Imshin 20:48

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