Shalom from Jerusalem,

We arrived in Israel at the beginning of July. It was the first summer in a long time when things seemed relatively quiet- the divisive struggle over the Gaza disengagement of last summer was over. The army was operating there as needed in response to the continual shelling of Sderot all year—but that seemed localized. Tourism was booming with an expected all-time record and even more projected for next summer.

Then it all turned on a dime, or so it seemed.

After the kidnapping of the three soldiers, there was an overwhelming feeling that Israel had no choice about what it needed to do. Without getting in to the details now of the thinking about that, it has been striking how strongly people support the Israeli response.

For us in Jerusalem, life is totally normal- it is fascinating how there can be a war going on a few miles from here, but things here are normal. I had begun to understand that just in the last year when I‘d read something about the Revolutionary War in the US and how there were parties and normal activities in Philadelphia while battles were being fought nearby.

The normality of daily life here doesn’t mean that there isn’t a lot of worrying going on beneath the surface. Everyone here knows kids in the army- their own or those of friends and classmates. Now that the reserves are being called up, more people are affected.

And then there are the people in the north- one third of the country is shut down and living in shelters much of the time. Almost everyone knows people who live in the north and empathizes with the strains of living under shelling . Many people have left the north- those with money have gone to Eilat, Jerusalem or elsewhere and are doing normal vacationy things. Some have moved in with family and friends—mainly those with small families who have friends or family with large enough homes to accommodate them. Large families can’t do that and disadvantaged families don’t have networks of those who can take them in. There are groups of people who are trying to help, but it is hard to find places for what looks like an indefinite amount of time.

I volunteered this week with an organization that assists victims of terrorism. They are now taking in families from the north but have virtually no resources. They are relying on their network of contacts—which seems limited, as they are the poor helping the poor. They are currently placing families in a yeshiva where the students are away for the summer. It is a large but crummy and ill-kept building. All it has are bare mattresses and no kitchen facilities. The organization provides one meal a day. The refugees are on their own the rest of the time. The kids have nothing to do. There are places in Jerusalem that offer discounts to people from the north, but these people can’t afford the discounted prices.

The people I spoke with all talked about how they couldn’t stand being in shelters any longer and how the sound of the sirens and alerts was maddening.

I met one family where the woman is a terror victim of an attack a few years ago. She has a 2 year old and is 7 months pregnant. After the attack she was afraid to stay in Jerusalem and moved to the Haifa area. She couldn’t stay in a shelter any longer with her 2 year old as it became impossible to keep him in the room and he was frightened by the sounds of the missiles and sirens. There was a man who offered people in her neighborhood a place to stay in Jerusalem so they took him up on it. It turns out what he offered them was a storage room: small, dark, windowless, with spider webs, hot and uncomfortable. When she entered the door of the organization where I was working, she was crying—she was embarrassed to be asking for help but said she couldn’t stay in the storage room any longer. Keeping her son occupied there was also becoming impossible and she was feeling sick from her pregnancy in that stifling space. Moreover, being in Jerusalem was causing her to relive the terrorist attack, as it had occurred a few blocks from where she is currently located.

Within a short while, the organization found her a one-room apartment of a yeshiva student who was away for the month. It only had one mattress, with wires hanging out of the walls, but it had two windows and she was incredibly grateful.

While she went back to the storage room to see if she could borrow two mattresses from the storage room (it turned out that she couldn’t) I babysat her son who wouldn’t move from the gate of the courtyard. He was motionless, peering out pathetically, waiting for her to return. Though he hadn’t eaten all day, he refused the food we offered and refused his bottle, not budging. After about half an hour I was able to engage him for a while—he is really adorable—but when he remembered his mother, he went back to his previous stance until she returned. To me he seemed clearly traumatized—I don’t know what his life has been like before—it was heartbreaking.

When his mother returned around 4:00, they were given lunch, their first food of the day. I emptied my purse and gave her all I had so she could buy some linens and food. I hope to return with some toys for the boy.

While I was there I spoke with others from the Haifa area and heard similar stories of not being able to stand being in Haifa any longer—but having no resources here. Most said their neighborhoods are empty as everyone has fled.

I am not accustomed to working with organizations with such limited resources and poor organization but it is a well-meaning group of kind-hearted people who are doing their best to be of help. They are not connected with other social service programs in the city—I’m not sure why—but are trying to do as much as they can. They mention the lack of social services here, which I am aware of, but they seem particularly unconnected. Nevertheless, they are helping people during a tough time.

The next day I volunteered with a group of people who send packages to soldiers.

They began a few years ago by sending packages to soldiers who don’t have family here but expanded to poor soldiers and now give packages to entire units. They usually do this once a month. They get some items donated and use donations (mainly from abroad) for the rest of the items. They have received lots of requests from the army in the past week and hope to prepare many more than the usual monthly number of packages. They are making packages three times this week with whatever they can get donated. They give soldiers basics and a few “luxury” items. They are distributing one t-shirt, one pair of underwear and one pair of socks, wipes (the soldiers get really dirty), one package of cookies, 4 pieces of sucking candies, and whatever toiletries have been donated (razors, hand lotion, conditioner, shampoo, toothbrushes, etc.) They were giving women men’s underwear as they don’t have a donor of women’s underwear. (They need cotton underwear but would certainly prefer to have women’s!) The army does not distribute enough of these items and soldiers can’t bring too much with them from home. A youth group had committed to help with the preparation of the packages yesterday but did not show up (these groups are always changing their itineraries but sometimes neglect to notify people who are counting on them or waiting for them) so those of us who were volunteering were there for a long time as we had a quota of 1,600 packages to prepare.

Each package included a note in Hebrew, Amharic (the language of the Ethiopian immigrants) and Russian wishing the soldier well.

Anyone who visits Israel who can bring any of these kinds of items, please let me know and I’ll give you the name of someone who can pick them up at a Jerusalem hotel.

If you know of a business that might donate large quantities of items, please get in touch with them and they may even ship then directly.

We spoke with one of Temple Aliyah’s adopted families yesterday: a family who lost a daughter in a terror attack a few years ago. The woman sounded like she was at the end of her ability to cope. They don’t have money to move to a hotel in another part of the country. She is embarrassed to ask someone to take her in and, moreover, said she doesn’t have anyone she feels comfortable asking. She has stopped going to the shelter every time there is an alert—yesterday there were alerts almost every hour and they were instructed to spend the night in shelters. She said she just can’t stand staying in a shelter and is now staying put as, she said, are other older people who are still in her building. When I spoke with her, I felt how hard it is to endure the stress of the situation, particularly in a person who is spent from grieving her daughter and from the limitations of their emotional and financial resources.

Today we hope to volunteer with a group that seems much better organized. A Reform rabbi of a congregation outside Jerusalem has organized his community to take in elderly and disabled adults and children from the north. They have rented two trailers to accommodate those they haven’t found homes for. These people cannot manage on their own here and need help with food, medicine, things to do and social contacts.

These organizers are more sophisticated than those at the first organization I helped with, so I will learn today what it is like to be adopted by this group. No one in Israel has much money so everything that is offered is much more basic than what we would do in the US, but it is what they can do.

Leora spent her first week here with a group that paints homes for the elderly. Since then, she has been working very morning in a soup kitchen in a poor neighborhood in Jerusalem. She has spent some evenings with friends helping a “Family Table”-type program that gives families non-perishable items once a month. She has her own stories to tell.

There are so many needs and so much to do!

The news seems worse every day- more and more casualties, each one a heartbreaking loss.

The biggest concern for the country is how it will all end.

With all of this, it is wonderful to be in Israel and we are very grateful that we have the opportunity to be here. It will be hard to leave.

Best wishes,
Elana