Querido Jose
Onte ás 6:30 da mañá espertoume o son de sirenas distantes. Había unhas cantas, así que non era tan fácil de distinguir a habitual e típica elevación e descenso do xemido da sirena.
“Iso é…?” dixen, incorporándome.
“Non,” dixo o meu home. “Non pode ser.”
Mais entón, uns instantes máis tarde, ouvimos un estouro, logo outro.
Collemos os dous os teléfonos, e cando toquei a pantalla, comezaron a aparecer, unha tras outra, ducias de alertas vermellas en todo o sur e centro de Israel —Sderot, Hod Hasharon, Ashkelon, Petah Tikva, Ashdod, e sitios que eu nin sequera ouvira nunca.
Fomos directamente ás páxinas de noticias da prensa israelí, pero alí non había nada. Era sábado, na mañá das segundo día festivo de Sukkot, os xornalistas aínda non estaban traballando.
“Estamos en guerra?” preguntei.
As explosións continuaron e finalmente (cando se produciu unha particularmente grande) levantámonos. E nada foi igual desde entón.
Estamos en guerra. Unha guerra para a que, sorprendentemente, non estabamos preparados en absoluto, aínda que o país estívose adestrando para ela durante anos.
Ao principio pensamos que se trataba simplemente de disparos de foguetes, algo ao que Israel está afeito, aínda que houbo máis impactos directos do habitual. Pero gradualmente comezaron a filtrarse noticias sobre homes armados de Hamás infiltrándose nunha vintena de aldeas no sur, así como nunha festa no deserto. E foi entón cando a terrible realidade empezou a bater en nós.
Pasamos o día pegados aos teléfonos e á televisión. Todos en shock. Compartindo calquera información que podiamos conseguir. Os veciños controlan os veciños, os amigos controlan os amigos. Os nosos tres fillos regresaron a casa.
E as noticias empeoraron cada vez máis.
Verifiqueino con todo o persoal de ISRAEL21c. Abby e Naama estaban a salvo, preto de Xerusalén; pero no sur, Yulia corría constantemente en busca de refuxio, baixo unha enxurrada de mísiles. O seu refuxio: a escaleira do seu edificio.
Ben, que controla o noso sistema de xestión de contidos e vive no estranxeiro, acababa de chegar o venres nunha infrecuente visita a casa e estaba baixo un ataque inesperado en Tel Aviv, o que lle provocou recordos non desexados da Guerra do Golfo e os anos que pasou vivindo preto de Gaza.
Natalie, na costa, estaba a piques de ir doar sangue, aínda que ela e moitos outros serían rexeitados porque a resposta atafegou á rede de servizos de sangue do país.
É curioso, pero o meu primeiro instinto cando me dei conta de que estabamos en guerra foi cociñar. Fixen chile —algo cálido e forte para a alma, e escalopes de polo—, porque non hai nada máis saboroso que o escalope fresco. O meu home uniuse a min e fixemos unha gran cantidade de comida.
Que equipaxe preparas para ir á guerra?
Alégrome de facelo. Pola tarde chamaron ao noso fillo mediano. Baixou unha mochila e empezou a facer as maletas. Que equipaxe preparas cando vas á guerra? O meu corazón comezou a contraerse e apertarse dolorosamente.
Demasiado pronto, demasiado pronto, o meu home foino levar ao sur, cara a Gaza. Un neno máis, entre unha corrente de miles, que vai pelexar. E todos os medos de nais e pais, irmás e irmáns, amigos e parentes, van con eles.
Saquei pasear o can. Que máis podes facer senón seguir? Cando regresei, escoitei que a filla dun veciño próximo, irmá do mellor amigo do meu fillo menor, morrera nun ataque a unha base militar no sur.
E cando fomos a consolar a familia, escoitamos que Hamás secuestrara outro neno na nosa pequena aldea.
Un día triste
Onte foi un día moi, moi triste en Israel. Un día como ningún outro. O ataque de Hamás tomou a Israel completamente por sorpresa e xa se fan moitas preguntas sobre como puido suceder isto.
Actualmente hai máis de 1.800 israelís feridos, moitos deles en estado crítico, e o número de mortos ascende a 300. Pero todo o mundo sabe que estas cifras aumentarán.
Como afectará isto á nosa cobertura en ISRAEL21c? Sinceramente non o sei. Nunca antes experimentaramos un ataque coma este. É o 11 de setembro de Israel. E a guerra resultante podería durar moito tempo.
Pero unha cousa que si sei é que os israelís son resilientes. Nunha crise, únense e protéxense uns a outros.
Esta mañá fun cedo ao supermercado para comprar algo de primeira necesidade. Centro era todo un desastre, colas enormes e estantes baleiros. Imaxínome que isto é o que sucederá nos Estados Unidos antes da chegada dun furacán.
Diante de min, na longuísima fila, había un home e unha muller maiores cun carriño repleto de comida. Cando, pouco despois, saía da vila, vin que se detiveron ao costado da estrada e estaban a entregarlles as bolsas aos soldados estacionados na entrada para protexer a comunidade. Isto é Israel nunha crise.
As divisións do ano pasado sobre a reforma xudicial causaron unha ruptura fundamental na sociedade israelí, e é máis que probable que foi isto o que lle deu a Hamás a oportunidade de atacar, pero os israelís xa están a pechar filas. Xa están a empezar a estar ombro con ombro.
Por iso, continuaremos con todas as nosas forzas para proporcionarlles historias do pobo de Israel, para falarlles das persoas extraordinarias que tentan mellorar a vida, mesmo nestes tempos tan difíciles.
Israel é un país cheo a rebentar de creatividade e innovación, é un lugar alegre onde a xente celebra a vida. Pero hai outra cara da moeda que nos define do mesmo xeito e intensifica os bos tempos —isto é, a loita por sobrevivir nun lugar hostil, onde os veciños son inimigos xurados. Aquí é onde estamos agora.
Esta tarde vou ao funeral dun mozo de 19 anos. Espero, de todo corazón, que esta sexa o derradeiro.
VERSIÓN ORIXINAL EN INGLÉS
Dear Jose
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Yesterday I was woken at 6:30am by the sound of distant sirens. There were a few of them, so it wasn’t as easy to distinguish the normally very distinctive rise and fall of the siren’s wail. “Is that…?” I said, sitting up. “No,” said my husband. “It can’t be.” But then, a few moments later, we heard a boom, then another. We both reached for our phones, and as I touched the screen dozens of red alerts from all over the south and central part of Israel began jumping up, one after the other — Sderot, Hod Hasharon, Ashkelon, Petah Tikva, Ashdod, and places I’d never even heard of. We went straight for the news pages of the Israeli press, but there was nothing there. It was Saturday, on the morning of the second holiday of Sukkot, the journalists were just not working yet. “Are we at war?” I asked. The explosions continued, and eventually – when a particularly big one went off – we got up. And nothing has been the same since. We are at war. A war that, shockingly, we were completely unprepared for, though the country has been training for it for years. At first, we thought it was just rocket fire – something Israel is used to – though there were more direct hits than usual. But gradually the news began to filter out about Hamas gunmen infiltrating 20 or so villages in the south, as well as a party in the desert. And that’s when the awful reality began to hit. We spent the day glued to our phones and the television. Everyone in shock. Sharing whatever knowledge we could glean. Neighbors checking in on neighbors, friends checking friends. Our three boys all came home. And the news got worse and worse. I checked with all the staff at ISRAEL21c. Abby and Naama were safe, near Jerusalem; but in the south, Yulia was running for shelter constantly, under a barrage of missiles. Her shelter – the stairway of her building. Ben, who handles our content management system and lives abroad, had just arrived on Friday for a rare visit home, and was under unexpected attack in Tel Aviv, giving him unwelcome flashbacks to the Gulf War and the years he spent living near Gaza. Natalie, on the coast, was about to go donate blood, though she and countless others would be turned away because the response overwhelmed the country’s blood services network. It’s funny, but my first instinct when I realized we were at war, was to cook. I made chili – something warm and strong for the soul, and chicken schnitzels – because there is nothing as tasty as fresh schnitzel. My husband joined me, and we made a whole batch of food. What do you pack for going to war? I’m glad we did. In the afternoon, our middle son was called up. He brought a rucksack down and started packing. What do you pack when you are going to war? My heart began to contract and squeeze painfully. Too soon, far too soon, my husband was driving him south towards Gaza. One more boy, in a stream of thousands, going to fight. And all the fears of mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, friends and relations, going with them. I took the dog out for a walk. What else can you do but go on? When I got back, I heard that the daughter of a near neighbor, the sister of my youngest son’s best friend, had been killed in an attack on an army base in the south. And when we went round to comfort the family, we heard another child in our small village had been kidnapped by Hamas. A dark day Yesterday was a dark, dark day in Israel. A day like no other. The attack by Hamas took Israel completely by surprise, and many questions are already being asked about how this could happen. There are currently over 1,800 Israelis reported injured, many critically, and the number of dead stands at 300. But everyone knows these numbers will rise. How will this impact our coverage at ISRAEL21c? I honestly don’t know. We have never experienced an attack like this before. It’s Israel’s 9/11. And the resulting war could go on for a long time. But one thing I do know is that Israelis are resilient. In a crisis, they pull together and protect one another. This morning I went early to the supermarket to buy some essentials. It was a mess in there, huge lines and empty shelves. I imagine this is what it looks like in the US before a hurricane comes in. Ahead of me, in the very long line, was an older man and woman with a trolley piled high with food. As I drove out of the village shortly afterwards, I saw they had stopped by the side of the road and were giving their bags to the soldiers stationed at the entrance to protect the community. This is Israel in a crisis. The divisions of the last year over the judicial overhaul have caused a fundamental rift in Israeli society, and it is more than likely that it was this that gave Hamas the opportunity to strike, but already Israelis are closing ranks. Already they are beginning to stand shoulder to shoulder. So we will continue with all our strength to bring you stories of the people of Israel, to tell you about the remarkable people trying to make life better, even in these most difficult of times. Israel is a country that bursts with creativity and innovation, it’s a joyous place where people celebrate life. But there’s a flipside that defines us just as much and intensifies the good times – and that is the battle to survive in a hostile location, where neighbors are sworn enemies. This is where we are now. This afternoon I go to the funeral of a 19-year-old. I hope, with all my heart, that this is the last. |
