08 March 2008

The ritual wiping away condensation from the windows has temporarily given way to the ritual of keeping the blinds closed until it gets dark outside: a type of heatwave called a sharav has enveloped the country. There’s very little wind, grey skies, and very hot temperatures. One avoids being outside during a sharav like the scene in The Ten Commandments when the 10th Plague creeps through Egypt, symbolized by green-tinted smoke: you don’t wanna be outside breathing in this stuff. Those who do venture forth into the pestilence use clothes as a shibboleth: the locals, knowing that winter isn't over and hotter weather has yet to arrive, are still in long sleeves and jackets; the out-of-towners think anything above 60 F is cause for wearing flip-flops and shorts.

After a long day at school on Thursday, I got a ride into Tel Aviv to catch the bus back to Jerusalem. As my carpool got into Tel Aviv, we learned that there was a terrorist attack at a yeshiva near the main entrance to Jerusalem. Coming from a class in terrorism, we compared this attack to one that occurred at a yeshiva several weeks ago near Jerusalem, as well as the phenomenon of shootings on college campuses in the States.
Although we haven’t had to deal with an attack for some time now, the onslaught of rockets on Sderot is a daily dose of depression; that HAMAS upgraded their supplies by sending GRAD missiles into the city of Ashkelon is cause for a bit more anxiety. Then the attack on the yeshiva happened and the buzz of seven million anxious citizens reenters the atmosphere.
The bus ride back was packed with exhausted soldiers and passengers rattling away on their cellphones. As we approached the suburb of Mevasseret Zion around 10:30 PM, traffic going towards Tel Aviv was at a standstill. No one was going into town, and as we wound our way up the road to the main entrance, we found out why: all traffic was diverted to the new bypass road, enveloping the cabin of the bus in silence as the hills reflected the blue strobe lights of police cars. Soldiers and police patrolled street corners downtown on Friday. People were out and about, but not in the numbers they have been in recent days.

The rains come back in a day or so; the alarm of the downstairs apartment owned by absentee Americans continues to get tripped by voracious alley cats; and we’ll all wake up tomorrow to confront together whatever version of BizarroWorld the Middle East and this living experiment called The Jewish State have to offer.