It is Sunday, May 26. I.go to a nearby village for therapy on Sunday morning. After my morning coffee and shower I called the taxi company so that a taxi would pick me up and then bring me back. The little village is 15 minutes away by car. Today the taxi driver arrived early, hooted (honked for you Americans) made a U-turn and stopped outside my house. I hurried, upset that he was early as that would mean I would have to wait outside the therapy building for at least 10 minutes - there is no shelter and today is hot. I said 'good morning' to him and got in the car. He grunted "morning" and off he flew - over untarred, narrow stony roads. Of course I arrived early - paid him and got out. Then I had a sinking thought - 'where did I put my key?" I searched my bag - it wasn't there, felt in my pocket, not there. Had I left it in my door -I know I locked it but as I was in a rush maybe I left it there. This took up 10 minutes so I pressed the door buzzer, and .... it didn't work. I was asked to try various combinations - nothing worked. My therapist came to let me in.
In the return taxi I told the driver I think I may have left my key in the other taxi - he called the office and they contacted the other driver. He answered saying he wasn't in his car and he would look later. When I got home I got a spare key from reception. After that I went to the nearby mall to get some food and have a frozen yogurt. In the supermarket I saw the helpful friendly Arab woman who works there - we greeted each other, "hamdelila" everything is good, and we smiled at each other. I bought a bread, very pleased that I could ask for it in Arabic. It is not a long sentence - "I want bread" and "thank you."
I ate a yogurt outside under an umbrella and then walked home. At 2 o'clock I opened my door with the spare key, put my trolley and bag down and turned to close the door. At exactly that moment I heard the air raid siren. We haven't had a siren in 6 months - I couldn't quite believe it. My preference would have been to get into bed, but it wasn't really an option - I grabbed my phone and went to the shelter in the building next to me. Old, demented people and their petrified Philipino caregivers. Little yapping dogs. Boom boom boom - explosions, or the iron dome? or both? My wi fi wasn't working. 10 minutes of confusion - then the all clear. A barrage of missiles had been sent to the central area of Israel from Rafah.
We were OK, thank goodness. Shaken up, of course, but OK. Planes overhead all the time, but they are overhead all the time, day and night.
It is now 5.00 p.m. The taxi driver returned my key and I have yoga at 5.30. Tonight is Lag B'Omer - festivities supposed to be outside in the park - maybe they wont be.
EVERYTHING is tentative.
1 comment:
My goodness Nesta, what a day!!! Your story telling is a gift to all of us. Thank you so much for writing.
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