Israel diary

This is the first in a series of articles by Liza Wiemer, who returned this month from two weeks in Israel.

Imagine living in an America where, at any time, a suicide bomber could strike a grocery store, mall, bus, restaurant, wedding or dance hall. Living with this terror daily is the life of every Israeli.

Following are glimpses into the lives of ordinary people I met during my recent two-week trip to Israel. I was privileged to record over 60 in-depth interviews with individuals ranging in age from 13 to 79 for a future book, “Living with Terror.”

The strength and courage of the people I spoke to, who came from every walk of life, are inspiring. But our people also suffer heartbreaking anguish. Parents mourn the loss of their children, children mourn the loss of parents and entire families have perished. This is not a war of soldier against soldier, but of terrorists against innocent children, mothers and grandparents.

Surprisingly, anger is not directed at the Palestinian people, but at the terrorists and at Palestinian Authority head Yasser Arafat. Yet, understandably, relationships among Jews and Christian and Muslim Arab-Israelis and Palestinians have changed drastically since the latest wave of violence began some 19 months ago.

Although Jews and Arab-Israelis and Palestinians continue to work together, learn together and eat together, their eyes and ears are always open. Political discussions are avoided.

Shahar Argaman, a 35-year-old reserve commander in an elite military unit, expressed his family’s love for a Palestinian woman and her family who live less than a mile and a half away. The woman took care of his two children and home. “We love her,” he said. “My family can no longer see her. If she tried to come to us, she would be stopped. If I tried to go to her, I would be killed.”

Amnon Yarkoni is a bus driver who witnessed two suicide bombings at Afula’s bus terminal and survived two roadside bombings driving his bus to Kadim, a West Bank settlement. When his wife and children asked him to quit his job, Yarkoni took a leave of absence, which lasted a month.

“I fell into a deep depression during that time,” he said. “Finally, my wife agreed that I had to go back to work. I’m happy now that I am able to help the people I know on the route.”
Everyone expressed gratitude to the young soldiers who fight for the protection of Israel. But anxiety is high. Wives and children worry about their husbands and fathers, parents fear for their sons’ lives.

Aryeh Katz, a 19 year-old who became a soldier in a paratrooper unit March 14 said, “I asked myself if I was willing to die to protect my family and country. The answer was ‘yes.’ Later, standing at the Kotel, I thought about the paratroopers before me who reclaimed the Wall for the Jewish people in the ’67 war. I knew then that this is a cause worth dying for.”

Many asked American Jews to visit Israel. Joe Freedman, the director of Ramah for Israel, said, “Israel is like a love affair. Sending e-mails, calling, giving gifts [money] are wonderful. But to sustain a lasting relationship you need to visit each other once in awhile.”

His wife, Sue, added, “If family members were sick or injured, you would go and visit them…. Jews are supposed to be one nation. We are suffering. Where are the Jews of America?”

Desire to continue

Israelis express dismay at the biased and inaccurate media coverage. They call on American Jews to fight propaganda by becoming well informed, and taking the truth to everyone we know, Jew and non-Jew alike.

“Do not be afraid to get into confrontations with others. Arm yourself with the truth, help defend us with words,” pleaded one Israeli.

In addition, Israelis feel that they are no longer in control of their lives. “This is precisely what the terrorists want,” said one mother of three. “So I purposely take my children to McDonalds, shop in the malls and go to movies. I am not going to let terrorists control our lives. We are very careful, but terror can happen anywhere, even in our homes. I will not let the terrorists win.”

Many share her determination, but there is still fear. Fortunately or unfortunately, Israelis have short memories. After two or three days without a terrorist attack, people again eat in restaurants, shop in malls, ride buses and continue on, cautiously optimistic.

This desire to continue with life is evident by the quick cleanup after an attack. The Matza restaurant in Haifa is almost rebuilt, better than ever. An Israeli flag blows proudly on the roof.

The central bus station in Afula, the site of two suicide bombings, is clean and in perfect order. Riders with cell-phones are quick to look around, however, and careful not to stand in groups.

Of course, just about everyone carries a cell-phone, even grade school children. Everyone stays in touch, and the closeness of families is evident.

Young adult children travel several hours by bus to eat Shabbat dinner with their families, and parents drive several hours to pick up and drop off their young adult children in order to share an entire Shabbat.

One man said, “We talk to our adult children several times a day. I have a cousin in America who rarely speaks with his family. I call him more from Israel than his own brother does in America.”

Unfortunately, the stress of terror takes its toll. Car accidents are up and stress-related heath problems are common. Dr. Orit Gressel-Raz, who works in Upper Nazareth, said that more people suffer from sleep disorders, back problems, weight gain or loss and anxiety. Healthy individuals get colds more often and chronic illness is on the rise.

Yet despite the anguish Israelis endure, there is still time for celebration. On May 8, Yom Yerushalayim, there was a spirited parade on Jerusalem’s Ben Yehuda St. to celebrate the city’s 35th year of reunification. There were floats, music, tractors from pioneer days, and youth groups singing and dancing in the street.

And as parade participants walked by Sbarro’s restaurant and other shops hit by terror, the strength of the Israeli spirit shined.

Liza Wiemer is an author and educator who lives in Fox Point and teaches Hebrew at the Milwaukee Community Cheder.