Weekend under fire

With nowhere to go I expected Friday to be quieter than usual. Fat Chance!

First I tried to tidy up but with four large mammals constantly in the house it wasn'’t so easy.

Then I read on the Argentinean’'s Spanish language notice board that the lady killed in the attack on Naharia was a relative of one of our younger congregants. So sad.

A quick look at the news pictures showed that a missile had fallen right on Naharia, close to the houses of many of my friends, most especially the Rabbi.

I phoned our congregation coordinator to check I had understood Babel fish’'s translation correctly (I don’'t speak Spanish) concerning the lady who was killed. They had already moved out to friends as they have newborn baby and live in an older flat without a security room. He was still managing the congregation long distance, and despite the fact he himself has not been here long he was helping the new immigrants from the community come to terms with the less pleasant aspects of living in Naharia.

Next I phoned the Rabbi and had a chat with his wife. They also live in an older flat without a security room and have moved within Naharia to stay with friends (and fellow congregants).

Finally I phoned our congregation chairman to pass on news, confirm the cancellation of Shabbat (Friday evening) services and to inquire after his well-being. He is a native Nahahrian so was as cheery as usual.

I forwarded messages of goodwill and a notice of cancellation of services to the English language notice board and then started to phone English speakers without an Internet connection. They were all glad to hear from me to exchange news and chat about the situation but no one seemed particularly stressed. They are mostly veteran Naharians, well aware of the significance of living so close to the border with Lebanon.

In the middle of all this chaos we have suffered a family bereavement: my cousin from the south died after a short illness. Although I met him several times and found him a kind, friendly man he was closer to my father in age and in fact they were friends from childhood.

Of course there was no possibility of my father getting to the funeral but he would like to pay his respects at the shiva (seven days of mourning). My mother can'’t stay alone with all the animals in this situation so I offered to move up for the night when my husband returns to work and the night shift this week.

We also realised that my aunt in Naharia had not been informed of the death. Due to the situation we couldn'’t reach her. I phoned one of my cousins and although I had no success in locating my aunt I had a nice long talk with my cousin'’s wife. Eventually we got hold of another of the sons who confirmed that my aunt was safely ensconced in the communal shelter with friends and neighbours.

After hours on the phone I was pleased I had chosen a simple meal for Shabbat. I invited my parents and it was all pretty much as usual except for the fact we hadn’'t been to synagogue.

Saturday was the usual lazing around, watching motor racing interspersed with news.

In the afternoon we visited the in-laws, as usual. There was a traffic snarl from Naharia to Cabri so we took the road ‘through the villages’ – the scenic route past Arab and Jewish villages.
Later a friend phone my husband in shock. He had been waiting at the traffic lights in Naharia when a missile had landed on the junction. Luckily he was not hurt.

Acco was a little livelier than Shlomi but there weren’t many people on the streets. Naturally it was a lot quieter than here and it was nice to have change as well as a good meal cooked by someone else.

ES