The Death of Democracy?

This morning (a.m. in Israel) I turned on CNN and in utter disbelief looked at the colour red spreading across America. "This cannot be happening again," I texted to my friends in America, I really feel like a witness to the death of democracy.  Last night Netanyahu fired Gallant, the Defense Minister, in the middle of a war.  Now words to describe this, and he did it just to save his coalition.  I feel like we, the citizens of the world, are sliding down a steep slide that is getting steadily steeper. The downward slide  gets faster, and there is nothing to hold on to.  Nowhere to brake our fall.  Nothing.

To calm myself this morning, after my workout in the gym I went to the plant nursery.  I sat down surrounded by pots of colourful flowers, fragrant herbs ,and shrubs - seedlings sprouting, bursts of colour, new life, the deep rich smell of earth. There were only four of us;  the woman in charge, called Iris (I mean, did she have any other choice in life but to work with plants?) a transplanted American, like myself, and an annoying woman who had come to visit Protea and sees it as her future home.  Annoying to me because of her loud screechy voice.  The American and myself were of course talking about the elections, when, at 11.20, the siren started.  The woman in charge told us there is a shelter in the nearby cafe, and off we went.  We were being herded into the small room by a lovely young man who is now in charge of the cafe.  Lots of old people I had never seen before - afterwards the young man told me they come for their morning coffee from the surrounding moshavim.  A few of us heard explosions, but apparently most of the people were - let me put it nicely, hard of hearing.  They are lucky!  After 10 minutes we left, but the calm of the nursery was over.  We called it a day.

I had planned to go to the supermarket yesterday, but landed up having a discussion with someone after arabic and didn't go.  Lesson to me - NEVER put off what you plan till a later time.  Now I am too bloody scared to go, not only because of the missiles, but what if Iran attacks at any moment?  But then, if there is a full scale attack from Iran, I may never need food again.

Some of my family members are due to return from Germany today - on TV they said a missile exploded in the area of the airport. Quick texts between all family members as to what will happen. It seems like the airport is open and they will make it back, although they might not want to return.

 On TV - reports of where the missiles had fallen, then four leaders of the opposition speaking about the firing of Gallant, and the current and present danger.  Then came a long documentary on the rise of Trump - I  turned it off, I really can't handle it.

I will have a cup of rooibos tea.

Nerves

 I think it is safe to say that my nerves are shredded.  Why, I wonder, do I (in fact 'we') use the phrase 'safe to say?'  What could happen to me that would make it unsafe to say, and what, exactly, does it mean - safe to say.  This is a conundrum for another time.  Whatever is safe or not safe to say, is that my nerves are shredded.  

I feel I have lost track of what holiday we are now about to 'celebrate'.  I think it is Simchat Tora, which is exactly the black and terrible day of 7th October 2023.  Because of these holidays the regular schedule is not the same - some days there are activities as usual, somedays there aren't. Of course here in the Village our management keeps us informed of what is and isn't happening, but nevertheless it is hard to keep track. The swimming pool is not in use as it is being repaired, so that is one activity that is not happening. 

On a personal level it is hard to keep up of which times and which days we run to the shelter, which nights are 'quiet', which days are 'quiet.' Quiet is relative, because quiet in this area doesn't mean it is quiet up north, or in the lower Galilee, or down south, or in the West Bank, or if there are successful or unsuccessful terrorist attacks in various towns. It merely means, this little area is quiet.  We do hear booms, but if there are no sirens, then we are not in the direct line of fire.

Last week before the Succot holiday I was invited to friends for the morning of Succot.  We thought it would be nice just to be together for a couple of hours.  My friend had invited me the day before, and I left her a message thanking her, asking what I should bring, and also, just by the way, to let her know I was feeling extremely unsettled.  All day I had a bad feeling - worse than normal. That night there were explosions, sirens, incoming drones. I watched TV and the announcer said a drone had hit something near Wadi Ara, then they said Binyamina, then they said 6 people wounded, 10 people, the number quickly rose to 67.  This was not in Binyamina - 67 people wouldn't have been outside - it must be an army base.  4 people killed, we clung to the news, but no names or places were announced.  At 11.30 I received a phone call from the same friend who had invited me, and my heart pounded fiercely - her grandson is in basic training. She called to tell me the attack had been at his army base - him and his unit were OK - obviously dozens of other young men weren't.  

NONE of this makes for settled nerves.  No further sirens for a few days, but one's nervous system is on high alert.  Driving in a car - if there is a siren, stop and go away from the car and lie down.  If you are near a shelter, go to the shelter, we know the drill.  We know being in a shelter saves lives.  

A few days and nights of 'quiet.' Then this morning I had to get up early as the cleaning lady was due to come. I looked at my phone and saw that missiles were being sent everywhere in the North and the Center.

We are in the Center, but it was quiet. I have a meditation app I listen to every morning, and it always amazes me how the subject exactly ties into what is happening. This morning the subject was 'how commotion can be useful in our practice."  In other words, how to find peace within chaos.  Hahhhhhhh - they spoke about outside noises and how to deal with them - that we think we should be meditating in a peaceful quiet manner in a peaceful quiet world, but inevitably interference happens.  As I finished the practice there was a tremendous explosion - peace is not what I experienced. While waiting for the siren I put on slippers, grabbed my phone and ran to the shelter.

The wi fi doesn't work in the shelter.  After 10 minutes we thought it would be safe to leave, but I called the front desk to check. The man who answered shouted at me "there was no siren."    WHAT???? - 6 of us were sitting in the shelter because of the explosion and siren.  He began to argue with me and I slammed the phone down.  So much for peace in chaos.

We did leave - but of course everyone is on edge.  And, just to let you all know, I DO think of the people in Gaza, in Lebanon, in Ukraine, in Sudan - I think of the upcoming American elections.  I just cannot dwell on these thoughts endlessly.

Yesterday there was a funeral for a girl of 22 who committed suicide a year after the Nova massacre.  On TV they said there has been a 60% rise in anxiety and stress amongst children.  All our nerves are shredded.

And so today, after the upsetting morning- I went to the gym, and am now blogging. I will do my arabic homework as I have a lesson this afternoon - so, life continues. I bought vegetables, flowers, accepted an invitation to a birthday brunch. This is how it goes.

Addendum

 A postscript to the entry about Whiskey.  By the way, whiskey, or whisky?  I have seen it both ways.

This morning I walked past the notice board in the reception, and saw that the fragile doctor passed away last night. I gather it was quick and merciful, and I hope he had a whiskey next to him. He lived to be 100 and died just before Yom Kipur, the death of a righteous man.

I wish him lechaim on his new journey.

Anger, Bewilderment

As I write this, I have not imbibed any alcohol, despite my afore stated love of whiskey.

In case anyone reading this doesn't know, we are now at war with Hezbollah, in the north. We have in fact, been at war with them since the Hamas attack in the south on October 7th, 2023.  Hezbollah began sending rockets on October 8th. Our prime minister has not seen fit to defend and help the 100,000 refugees from the north for almost a year. The same way he has not come to any agreement about the hostages in Gaza. 

I have been going faithfully to demonstrations every Saturday night for over a year.  Recently, I have become unclear why I bother - whatever we do falls upon deaf ears. Nothing changes,  it just gets worse and worse and worse.  There is no plan for after the war with Hamas, and now suddenly we have gone to war with the North "to return our refugees." What kind of a plan is that?

I am utterly bewildered - I cannot understand how this will help the refugees return - the idea of a ground invasion horrifies me, I can't see the point of continued assassinations. 

Just to remind anyone reading this - this is my opinion. I am not a politician, I am not a strategist, all I can do is voice my opinion.  Before the demonstration last Saturday evening I again began considering - "it is hot, should I go? what difference does it make?" This inner debate continued for half an hour, then I decided to go.

On the way I received a photo of the grandson of someone living in New York. This person is an Israeli. Supposedly he knows what is going on here.  But never once has he asked how I am, or how any of his friends are.  It is the third photo of the grandson in as many days.  I suddenly experienced a rage directed at him, but obviously coming from a deep place of sorrow and confusion in me.  I texted him that we are living in two different worlds, the world I inhabit is one of sorrow, anger, fear, confusion, anxiety, uncertainty. It is not enhanced by a barrage of photos of a new baby.

I arrived at the demonstration feeling my rage boiling over. I picked up the flag and stood at the bridge to listen to the speeches.  A psychiatrist spoke. She said  she knows that most of us there experience depression, anxiety, uncertainty, hopelessness - she knows we don't know whether to continue demonstrating, or whether just to take to our beds and not get up any more.  Then she said - 'that is the state that our government thrive on - they can continue to do what they want, because of the silence of the majority. What they cannot deal with, what they fear most of all, is rage.  It is rage that will change things."

Hah, justified.

And so, almost a week of hell has passed since then, missile attacks, sirens, talks of a cease fire,  no cease fire, the frequent flying Prime Minister and his wife (a journalist has labeled him as a frequent flyer) is off to speak at the UN - and here I am, experiencing rage.  And I am not alone - a rage is boiling over.

What will be the outcome? - No one knows. It doesn't seem like anything positive at all as we get closer to Rosh Hashana and the anniversary of 7th October 2023.

Please pray for everyone here in the Middle East. EVERYONE.

Let there be some clarity. Even just a teeny weeny ray of light.

Whiskey

I like whiskey, even though a very good friend of mine, who shall not be named, has told me I am not a true whiskey drinker.  The reason  for this insult is that I told her that I simply cannot drink whiskey when the average night time temperature is  90 degrees.  In other words, it is bloody hot and sticky here in Israel, and has been so for three months.  She insisted that a true whiskey lover will partake, no matter the weather.

As you know, I live in a retirement community.  One of the more delightful residents - a former South African, and a whiskey drinker, has been rather unwell for some time.  This has been very upsetting, of course to her, but also to those of us who enjoy her company. She has a devoted Philippina attendant who cares for her.  She wheels her and her maltese poodle to all the activities, concerts, and lectures she is able to attend. She wheels her to the park at sunset, and to the clinic for her medical appointments. 

In the past, when the resident was in a better state, she would invite me and another resident  over at 6.00 for a 'drinky.' The attendant would faithfully replenish the ice and make delicious appetisers. These delightful activities have been on hold for quite too long as the woman has been in and out of hospital. 

Recently, since she has improved somewhat, she will call to invite me over, only to call later to cancel.  This week she asked me over for Monday night, then canceled.  Wednesday also was a no go.  However Thursday morning she said to me "it is on tonight for 6, but we won't be a threesome. I have invited a number of people, but I can't remember who. Come to me at 6, and whenever the bell goes we will see who walks in.

I went over at 6. Her wheelchair stroller was parked by the door.   I walked in to see  a couple sitting around the hostess' recliner. He had a tumbler of whiskey, and she had a glass of white wine.  They are an elderly (redundant word) former South African couple.  My hostess' way of introduction was to tell them I enjoyed whiskey.  I then quoted my friend.  The man said, of course you can drink it in summer, just put in lots of ice. The hostess in her recliner, dog at her feet, held a tumbler of whiskey.  The man poured me a healthy shot and we drank lechaim.  After a knock at the door a very large female resident came into the small apartment  with her stroller. She navigated to a chair, and said "whiskey is mother's milk to me."  I poured her a healthy shot, and the attendant replenished the ice bucket.

 The hostess was ready for a second shot.  A short while later another knock and in came a strong Philippina attendant carrying a very frail looking man. He didn't look very good! She propped him on the sofa,  and poured him a whiskey!  Then the man's wife came in walking alone with a cane. She had a glass of wine.  

The man is 100 and was a doctor. His body as I said, is  frail - but his mind seemed fine.  He had left his hearing aids at home, as had some of the others, but after repeated yelling he answered questions to the point, made suggestions, and generally engaged in the conversation which centred around whiskey, medications, and King Charles hugging some paralympic competitors.  That was surprising, because the King is NOT supposed to hug anyone.  From Charles the conversation turned to Winston Churchill who thrived on alcohol and cigars, and the Queen Mother who tippled away at gin and tonics, and also lived to a ripe old age.  Princess Margaret was also a heavy drinker, but she died much earlier.  We agreed that being a prime minister of a country at war, or being born to royalty, is a heavy burden, and probably it was eased by alcohol.  We did NOT mention our prime minister.

The hostess was ready for a third, the woman who told us whiskey was mother's milk to her hurried to catch up. The first man there also wanted a third but his wife seemed somewhat averse to the idea, so he said to her "yes dear,"  and didn't have a third.  He told me the secret to a good marriage is two words "yes dear" and it seems to have worked for them. 

The hostess drank her third, because, after all she didn't have to stand up and get wheeled or push a stroller anywhere.  She looked far better than she has looked in a long while. I suggested she give up her medications and just have whiskey.  This was repeated several times in question form to the frail deaf doctor. Once he heard the suggestion,  he raised his second glass in her direction and said lechaim.  Obviously he concurred.

Anyone ready for a shot?

Single malt for me.

Here Goes

 Here goes an attempt at a new entry.  Tomorrow I am hopefully meeting a group of 23 people whom I have never before met. We will be going on a one week spiritual/mystical tour of the Greek mainland. Temples, monasteries, the homes of the Gods. I say hopefully because as I have attempted to describe in previous entries, life here is moment to moment. The airport is open, the airport is closed, planes leave Israelis stranded in foreign countries ,then Israeli airlines charge extortion rates to bring them home. For those that still have a home - despite the 'defeat of the Hezbollah attack" missiles and rockets continue to bombard the north.  The Gaza 'envelope' continues to have rockets sent, many schools are not opening in September.  Schools that can open, in the center of the country, may not open because of teacher strikes. An Israeli Bedouin hostage was returned yesterday - some momentary joy as we wait and hope, and pray for the remaining hostages to be returned.  Talks have stalled - WHAT a surprise. Nasrallah lies to his people, Sinwa lies to his people, Bibi lies to everyone - America tries. 

So sorry, yet again, a miserable entry.  I will be gone a week. 

Waiting Game - Day 308

Iran, Nasrallah,  The Hezbollah, Hamas - terrorists, yes, certainly.  They are also geniuses of psychological terrorism. 

The nation waits - what will come next? when will it come? How will it come? Will it come?

Where? when? Are we ready? Who is lying to whom? Which airlines are flying? Which airlines aren't flying? Will civilians be hurt? Where are all the army bases? Are our shelters strong enough? Will there be electricity? Won't there? What about the hostages? We are close to a deal, we are far from a deal, yet again. 

WHY is Bibi opposed to a deal? What the hell is wrong with Smotrich and Ben Gvir? How did we get here? What is going to happen?  

And in the meantime life continues - do we go to a demonstration or don't we? Is it safe or wise to visit Druze families in Majdal-Shams? Is it safe or wise to go to a museum in Tel Aviv? Jerusalem? Herzlia? Should we meet friends on the beach? Arabic homework is so difficult this week. What am I doing at my age sitting down with an exercise book struggling with homework?  What art will I work on now? Oils, watercolours? Maybe nothing. To go to yoga or not go to yoga? Which shelter to go to?

And on top of it so many people here have come down with corona - because they did go on an outing together, and attended lectures and classes together. And the heat - the hottest June and July since records began. 

But thank goodness - the Olympics continues - please don't let it finish. Then comes the question, what to watch? What will save us?