PLEASE FORWARD TO ALL WHO WORRY ABOUT "WORLD
OPINION" WHEN ISRAEL DEFENDS ITSELF FROM ISLAM.
The following e-mail was forwarded to me from Sderot, thanks to Choil.
(It's a contemporary historical document! Read through until conclusion.)
From: Laura Bialis: E-mail: laura@documentaryprojects.org
As many of you know, I am living here in Sderot, making a film about
the situation through the eyes of Sderot's musicians. I live with Avi
Vaknin, one of the musicians in my film, and Aner Moss, who is working
as my cinematographer.
I am sad and angry today. It has been a really difficult week here.
Wednesday the qassam attacks escalated again. Several fell on Sapir
College, which is just a couple of minutes from here, killing a
student. Many landed in Ashkelon -- one on a hospital. The attacks
continued Thursday with more injuries. Because the rockets started
hitting Ashkelon, the Prime Minister (while eating sushi on a trip to
Japan) announced that Hamas is "trying his patience."
Living in Sderot these days is all about listening and waiting. It
feels like there is going to be a real War. You can hear everything.
Sometimes we hear a far away boom. We look at each other and say:
"Must be us. Must be us bombing them." We hear helicopters. The first
time I heard a helicopter here I realized suddenly that this isn't LA.
Its not a news helicopter or a police helicopter, or most likely not
even a hospital helicopter. A helicopter here can only be one thing.
IDF. The first time I heard airplanes, I realized there was no airport
around here. You hear airplanes and they are military airplanes. If
they are loud, probably F-16s.
Below is a journal from my last 36 hours:
Friday, 3:00AM:
Tzeva Adom (Color Red Alert) does not go off, but there is a weird
alarm going off-- its the thing that goes off after there are several
Tzeva Adoms in a row. It wakes us all up, and we don't know what to
do-- do we run to the shelter? Maybe it is a mistake. I make a mental
note to try and interview someone about the Tzeva Adom system.
Friday, 10:00AM:
I say (out loud) that we are lucky for no Tzeva Adom this morning. A
half an hour later, we are getting ready to leave the house: Tzeva
Adom, Tzeva Adom. We run into the shelter. This time, we hear the
whistle. Avi always told me, that the scariest moment is when you can
hear the whistle, because it means it is landing right near you. After
the whistle, a huge boom that rattles the house. We run out to the
street, all the neighbors have come out and everybody yells, "Where
did it fall?" People are running around looking. We finally realize it
has fallen across the street on the back side of our house. Luckily
there are no homes there, just an open field.
Friday, 4:30PM:
Right before Shabbat. Avi's brother and his family stop by to visit.
His 8-year-old twin nieces are chasing our cat around our backyard and
playing catch with grapefruits they picked from the trees. Aner is
filming. All of the sudden, a huge boom. It was a qassam WITHOUT the
Tzeva Adom warning-- one of the scariest things possible. Then it
starts: Tzeva Adom, Tzeva Adom. We run into the shelter. More
explosions. Close.
Friday, 8:00PM:
Shabbat dinner at Avi's parents. Avi is really depressed and angry. He
keeps asking, "Is this a way to live? Why? Why?" He doesn't usually
get this worked up, but something about seeing his nieces exposed to
the danger makes him sad. He can't eat.
Friday, 10:00PM:
We can hear singing and cheering. Its a huge group of Bnei Akiva, they
tell me, I go out with Avi's nephew, Lidor, another one of my subjects
who is in the Sderot Youth Choir. We see six hundred young people from
a group called "Lev Ehad (One heart.)" They hold Israeli flags and
walk through the streets of Sderot singing, clapping, and cheering, to
show solidarity. Its an amazing sight.
Friday, 10:30PM:
We are driving home. We have the radio tuned to 104 FM, where after
9:00 PM there is silence, but the Tzeva Adom is broadcast -- supposedly
a couple of seconds before you can hear the loudspeakers. We stop the
car and run up the walkway to the nearest house. We bang on the door.
Nobody home. We get close to the wall of the house, just in case. For
the first time I am afraid, I can hear my own heart beating. Something
about the process of trying to run and not knowing where to go.
Friday, Midnight:
We are sitting in our house drinking coffee with Robbie and Lavi-- two
of Avi's friends-- film students from Sapir college. Robbie is really
mad. They are talking about how upsetting it is that seven years of
rockets and the government doesn't care, but now that rockets hit
Ashkelon, its suddenly not okay anymore. Robbie says it is because of
who live here-- Mizrachim (Jews from Arab countries) not Ashkenazim.
Poor people. The government doesn't care about the people of Sderot--
but Ashkelon, rich people, that's now the limit. Avi talks about his new
song. Its called, "Sushi in Japan." I presume it is about Olmert, eating
his sushi.
Saturday, 2:00AM:
Tzeva adom. This is strange-- doesn't usually happen at this hour. We
run to the shelter. Can't hear a boom. Maybe its too far. I get back
in bed and try to sleep. I hear helicopters.
Saturday, 5:00AM:
Tzeva Adom.
Saturday, sometime between 5 and 7AM:
One or two Tzeva Adoms. I don't remember. I don't get up, I don't
wake up. I just stay in bed. Screw it all. If they want to bomb me, go
ahead.
Saturday, 7:30AM:
Tzeva Adom. We wake up and run to the shelter. I am so tired I can't
even stand up. Get back in bed. I can hear gunfire. Really loud
gunfire... like a machine gun. Is is from a tank or a helicopter or
something.
Saturday, 9:30AM:
Tzeva Adom. Okay, maybe its time to get up. I hear airplanes -- really
loud. Must be F-16's.
Saturday, Noon:
Helicopters. I get online. I can't help it. What does it say in the
news. Thirty-three qassams from yesterday until now Twenty-six
people killed in Gaza, including some civilians. Several IDF soldiers injured.
I look at the press from the West and get very angry. Its mostly about
their injuries. Another article about Palestinian protests about our
"attacks." This is ridiculous. If there were no rockets raining on us
the IDF wouldn't have anything to do there. I don't like the way we
are portrayed. We don't want this war. They are dragging us in. What
can we do? There are rockets raining on us daily. But in the media we
look like the aggressors. It feels so unfair to be sitting here and
reading that. My entire perspective has changed. I used to think that
Israel needed to take care of how it looked to the Western World --
that we can't look like monsters. Now I know it doesn't matter. They
will paint us however they want. I just can't read the news anymore,
it makes me too angry. We need to move forward with our lives, protect
ourselves. The government has a responsibility to protect its people.
The question is, what is the best way to do that?
Saturday, 2pm:
Tzeva Adom. I'm alone in the house, I run to the shelter.
Saturday, 3pm:
Tzeva Adom. I stay at my desk. This is ridiculous
Saturday, 7pm:
The news. Two Israeli soldiers killed. 45 Palestinians.
As I am writing this, more helicopters. More guns. Very depressed.
Shavua Tov From Sderot.
------------------------
Laura Bialis
Foundation for Documentary Projects
Israel Cell: (052) 6868-411
laura@documentaryprojects.org
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