2001           2002                    2003        EPILOGUE

ISRAEL DIARY - 2001

The alarm clock, a small but noisy device, rings at 7:30 AM. I get up, shower, boil water for coffee, and listen to the news. Most of it is bad. After the news come basketball scores, the traffic report of a two-mile backup on Highway 1, and the weather forecast of a partly cloudy day. All in all, it sounds like a typical California morning except for one detail - the severe traffic congestion on Highway 1 is not due to people going to work. It is because someone found a hafetz hashood - a suspicious object - and notified the police. The bomb squad then sealed off the freeway to be sure that the apparently forgotten object - shopping bag, briefcase or whatever - was as innocent as it seemed, and not an explosive left by a terrorist. This Highway 1 is not the coastal highway; rather, it goes between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. This is not a California morning because right now I am in Israel.

I arrived in Ben Gurian airport two days ago at 2 AM, later than expected because of a Lufthansa pilots' walk out. Another couple at the airport wants to go north, and is willing to share a taxi. The cab dispatcher tells us the trip costs 200 hundred shkalim (about $50) for the two of them to go to Haifa, and another 200 shkalim for me to go further north to Nahariya. The woman objects to the fare, and offers the dispatcher a lower price. He looks disgusted and tries to explain to her about their minimum requirement. I'm tired. I want to get to my room and lie down, so I offer to make up the difference. There are smiles all around as my offer is accepted.

In the cab, I talk to this couple. It turns out they are B'hai, not Jewish, and have come for the dedication of their Temple in Haifa. Remembering the woman's haggling with the dispatcher, I smile inwardly, happy to see the myth of Jewish stinginess once more confounded.

A real Israeli probably would not care.

Monday, May 21, 2001

Jamal Beshara, one of the Arab physicians, tells me he has quit smoking, at least in part because of my nagging him. I congratulate him and tell him that I would love to see his family again. He is a short, square faced man with thick hair, just a little gray, and limited English abilities. We know each other well, he understands me, and his eyes light up. "Of course, Dr. Zaks, we would love to have you as our guest for dinner." (As an aside, if you are ever invited to an Arab household for dinner, bring a hearty appetite and leave your diet at home. It is with good reason that Arab hospitality is legendary.) A few days later he comes back to me with excuses. What with one thing or another there seems to be no time he can invite me over. I understand - there is an intefada going on. Maybe next time I come, it will be different. Insha'allah - God willing.

Wednesday, May 23, 2001

Dave Green, an oncologist, is a round-faced middle aged guy with bad teeth. He likes to use vulgar language when he speaks English, but he is a sweetie. When I mention that I have to take my laundry into town, he spontaneously offers to drive me there and back.

He tells me that two lecturers scheduled to come from the United States had, because of the matsav bit'choni (security situation), asked for an armored tank to take them from the airport to Nahariya. When this was refused, they canceled their trips. "If they don't want to come, let them just say so. Why all this clowning around?" he says with obvious disgust.

Monday, May 28, 2001

There has been a pigua, a terrorist strike, in Netanya. A suicidal bomber blew himself up outside a highschool. Six students were injured, but no one other than the terrorist was killed. The week before had seen another attempted strike, this time in front of a shopping mall. I feel a little reassured. After all, anyone crazy enough to want to die so he can kill Jewish teenagers cannot be too competent. These strikes, I think, are unlikely to do too much damage.

What motivates the terrorists? Could they hope to repeat the mass murders of Hitler and his fellow psychopaths? Of course Palestinians are as diverse in their viewpoints as are Jews or any other group. Of course most Palestinians are not terrorists. But this strike in Netanya, combined with a steady stream of comparable rhetoric from Arab countries and from the Palestinian Authority broadcasting station makes me wonder - just how many Palestinians would like to "push the Jews into the sea." Arafat rejected the offer of Palestinian sovereignty in the West Bank. I worry that when intefada leaders speak of freedom in their "own land" they mean not a state with Jericho, Ramalla and Bethlehem in the territories, but rather Israel itself with Tel Aviv, Haifa and all of Jerusalem.

Tuesday, May 29, 2001

My friend Eli (pronounced 'Elly') Hazani, who helps me arrange these visits, has a ticket for me to hear the Israel Philharmonic orchestra. Eli is tall and chubby, and has a thick white beard. With a laugh, he tells me that Americans used to ask him to play Santa Claus.

The program looks interesting, particularly - since I play the fiddle myself - the concerto for violin by Max Bruch. When the violinist steps on the stage, I groan inwardly - he is a youth - a teenager. I wonder what desecration of the master composer are we about to endure. But from his first note I realize my mistake. He is a genius. His virtuosity is as smooth as gossamer over silk, as brilliant as a sparkling gemstone. I listen with delight. When he finishes, the audience applauds rhythmically until he must give an encore. Classical music lovers, remember his name - Ilya Gringolts. You will hear more about this young man.

Thursday, May 30, 2001

Each time I visit Israel, I stop by Jerusalem to say hello to the Western Wall - the remnant of the Holy Temple that was originally built thousands of years ago. Usually I take the bus, but this year, because of the matsav bitchoni, the security situation, I ask Eli if he can drive me. He says that the buses are safe, but that he goes to Jerusalem every week to visit his sick mother anyway so he can bring me to the Old City. He seems depressed, and I wonder if the stress of the political conflicts is getting him down.

He lets me off close to the Wall. I walk around the Old City, buy some gifts, and then go to the Wall. They say this is the holiest spot on the planet, and my heart agrees. Standing next to the wall, I am dwarfed by the immense stones. I put my forehead against the granite and let its warmth seep into me. I feel as if I am standing at the center of the world.

There are fewer people at the wall than last year, and more security police in the area. I strike up a conversation with two of them. One lights up a cigarette. Since my wife isn't here to be embarrassed, I scold him for smoking.

Other than the increased security, Jerusalem looks the same. People walk the streets, take the buses, go to synagogue, go to school, go to work, go to visit friends. I am surprised at how normal the city appears.

I meet Eli at his mother's house. She really is ill. She has difficulty walking or even speaking. Obviously her illness, not politics, is the source of his depression.

Saturday, June, 02

Shabbat - the Sabbath - is officially over, so I can now use the computer, something forbidden to religious Jews on the day of rest. I am not religious by Israeli standards, but I have just finished my annual Shabbat visit with Gadi ben Dror, who is ultraorthodox. Gadi is a thin man who wears a long beard, long black coat, black pants and hat and - most importantly - observes every commandment he can as much as he can. When I am a guest in his house I do likewise.

Tradition says that if all Jews observe at least one Shabbat, then Messiah will come. I've done my part.

In the middle of morning services Gadi tells me here has been a strike at a disco in Tel Aviv with at least seventeen deaths. News like this penetrates even into the religious community on Shabbat. Gadi has a strange smile on his face, as if to say, "Now do you see what they are like?" He is, in my eyes, extreme right wing, and even opposed Yitzhak Rabin's efforts to make peace.

Now one wonders if that opposition was foresight rather than reactionary.

I am stunned by the news of the strike. I had thought the suicidal bombers incompetent. After all, who in their right mind would kill themselves so that they could kill civilians who had done them no harm? At the same time I wonder - will this bring about a final confrontation?

Again the question arises. When Palestinians speak of wanting their own land, exactly which land are they talking about?

Gadi has a religious obligation to perform so I go home with his children. When I get a chance, I tell his wife about the strike, my voice lowered so their children will not hear. She is shocked, and we discuss what has happened. Her voice is not lowered. The children join the discussion. They do not seem psychologically traumatized by the news. Soon the discussion turns a more prosaic problem, that is, the rabbi's daughter falling down and scraping her face.

These people are used to coping with stress.

Monday, June 04, 2001

I do not visit the settlements in the West Bank, so I can't describe the situation there. Here, behind the green line (the unofficial border separating Israel from the territories), daily life is pretty much the same as in prior years. There are some differences, but they are subtle. For example, this evening at a restaurant, a waitress comes to my table just a few minutes after I sit down. Usually I have to wait about ten minutes. I notice that most of the tables were empty. Nahariya is a tourist town. There have been no bombs here, but economically they are hurting.

Tuesday, June 05, 2001

I am sitting near the beach, listening to surf pound on the sand. There is a strong wind and the waves are bigger than usual. To my left, two boys are swimming in the sea. In front of me is one of many signs saying that swimming in this area is prohibited. The sign is written in four languages - Hebrew, English, Russian, and Arabic. (In theory, Hebrew and Arabic are the official languages of Israel, but sometimes it seems like English and Russian are the actual main languages.) Surely these boys have seen the sign. Are they victims of a traumatic stress syndrome, with unresolved conflicts coming from the uncertainties of the intefada and leading to suppressed suicidal tendencies? Or are they bratty kids? Probably the latter. I can't think of anything to say to make them more realistic about danger so I leave them be.

Walking back to the hospital I pass a party in someone's front lawn. To the accompaniment of loud, rhythmic, non-melodic music, preteens dance with vigor, arms and legs jumping up and down in a pattern which does not require anyone to touch anyone else. The father, standing on the porch steps, is vidiotaping the proceedings. No one here is thinking about the intefada.

Back at the hospital, a guard asks to check my bag. "But I live here," I tell him.

"Oh, okay then," he says and passes me through.

Could a terrorist get past the guard simply by saying that he lived here? On second thought, no terrorist could mimic my thick American accent. The guard probably knows what he is doing. Still, overly concerned he is not.

Wednesday, June 08, 2001

An elderly woman, already severely ill, has just suffered still another setback. Doctors stand near her bed, discussing the most appropriate course. It occurs to me that the family must be anxious, so I leave the room and offer to answer their questions. They are sad, but realistic. The message gets across, that there is little likelihood that their mother will return to them. They thank me for taking the time to talk to them, even though the news is bad.

This scene is played out in hospitals throughout the world every day. The point of interest here is that the patient and her family are Arab, while most of her doctors are Jewish. In talking to the family, what I notice is that there is nothing to notice. I am one of the doctors, they are the patient's family. Jewish and Arab play no role whatsoever in the interchange. It is the same when the patient is Jewish and the staff is predominantly Arab. There is no resentment visible, no intrusion of the conflict into the treatment process.

I feel hopeful.

Today Jamal Beshara returned from a medical conference in France. He tells me he still wants to invite me for dinner, but his wife's schedule is tight. That he brings it up surprises me. I tell him that if we cannot do it this year, I can come to his house next year. I insist that I do not want to complicate matters for his wife. I do not mention the matsav, the political condition.

Thursday, June 07, 2001

The radio still speaks about the pigua - strike - in the disco at Tel Aviv six days ago. This strike has infuriated the Israelis. Gunfire between the Israeli army and the Palestinian police is as regrettable as any other military action. When the Palestinians shoot at settlers in the West Bank, Israelis are angry, but one can understand the Palestinian rationale here: they and the settlers are struggling for the same land. The Palestinians can rationally view driving the settlers back behind the green line as a realistic goal.

But what possible goal can be achieved by killing a dance hall full of teenagers? These children have no interest in fighting Arabs. They aren't throwing rocks or planning expansion of settlements. The only possibly terrorist motive is to kill Israelis, and the difference between Israelis and Jews becomes quite blurred in much of the extremist literature.

The terrorists could conceivably push the settlers behind the green line, but never again will the Jews allow themselves to be a people defenseless against homicidal psychotics like the Nazis. Israel does have the military ability to survive.

This particular strike may have backfired - the Israelis are furious and are demanding action. Sharon, ironically, is now seen as too moderate. Arafat has finally called a cease-fire. And the world finally seems to have an idea of what Israel is fighting against.

Friday, June 8, 2001

I have Shabbat dinner with Ruth and Richard Aarons, a couple who immigrated from the USA about 30 years ago and raised a large family, all of whom are now on their own. Ruth and Richard have a bad case of empty nest syndrome. I ask Richard if he wants to read this diary about how I see the intefada affecting Israel. He says no, that the intefada is about conflict between Jews and Arabs and he does not have any such conflict in his own life.

Ruth tells me that Dave Green, the oncologist, had spent his boyhood in Amsterdam being sent from one household to another to hide him from the Nazis. Ruth herself was born in the states, but her family lived with an uncle who had survived, and who filled Ruth's girlhood with so many vivid, true horror stories that she considers herself to be like a second generation survivor.

Each afternoon, from 4:45 to 5:00, the radio takes calls from people looking for information about relatives who may have survived. I wonder how many of these callers find their missing family members.

The other day an elderly woman limped passively into the examining room. She had high blood pressure, diabetes, and arthritis. Also, her heart wasn't too good.

Also, she suffered from moderately severe depression. After addressing the physical problems, I had planned only to ask about her antidepressant medicine, but it came out that she is a survivor of the camps.

She is willing to talk. Her eyes, no longer passive, burn with memories now more than fifty years old as she speaks of what the Nazis did to her.

"You deserve respect simply for having survived," I tell her.

"I want to die," she answers me.

The Shoah (holocaust) hangs over this country like a distant cloud. What would the holocaust deniers say if they were here?

Saturday, June 9, 2001

The radio reports that the father of the suicidal bomber in Tel Aviv is happy that his son killed himself while killing Jews, and would want all of his children to kill themselves in the process of killing Jews. I am baffled, outraged and suspicious all that the same time. Could the Israeli station be lying? Could the Arab station that broadcasted the original interview be lying? If the interview is authentic, this father and those who encourage him have gone crazy from their hatred of Jews.

Sunday, June 10, 2001

Walking back from the beach I pass a statue, weathered by the decades, of a grieving woman. The sign below says "To the Memory of the Martyrs Who Fell to the Terrorists in Nahariya." Richard Aarons has described to me in painful detail the activities of terrorists who, decades ago, would come in from the beach and kill anyone they could find. Nahariya is now quiet.

Will new memorials be erected because of this intefada? The thought depresses me.

Later, I hear a truck with a tinny loudspeaker. It is more than a block away, the words blurred to unintelligibility. I wonder if this might be a call for people to report to their army units, that a major attack has occurred. Then, when I get closer, I see that it is a produce truck, and the owner is simply announcing his fresh eggs and vegetables.

I really do think like an American.

Monday, June 11, 2001

I think a milestone has been passed. The radio now talks more about the basketball scores than about the terrorist strike in Tel Aviv.

Wednesday, June 13, 2001

We are standing at the bedside of a young Arab man with unexplained diffuse muscle pains. Someone suggests that he may have trichinosis, a parasitic illness gotten from eating pork. To my surprise, this possibility is seriously discussed. "But you're Moslem, aren't you?" I ask him.

He grins, perhaps with a trace of embarrassment. "Well, doctor, you know…"

The man in the next bed has a similar grin. "Doctor, we're not all religious."

Now I'm embarrassed. In spite of my best efforts, I've been stereotyping people.

Thursday, June 14, 2001

Eli invites me to the symphony again. It is a good program, though without the magic of the last time. The printed program mentions that Leonard Slatkin, originally scheduled to lead the orchestra, canceled his appearance. What a coward, I think, sitting in the comfortable auditorium. Slatkin's replacement, a young man named Yaron Traub, is quite good. Slatkin has lost more by his cancellation than I have.

Eli's friends drive me home. We talk about how people are reacting to the intefada. "It's stressful," the wife, Rachel, says.

"We are approaching a red line," Yuri, the husband says."

Monday, June 18, 2001

A group of us go to Uri Buri's, a wonderful fish restaurant on the beach in Aco. Jamal Beshara is supposed to drive me back to the hospital afterwards, but first he wants to show me his new house. It's beautiful. His wife serves me juice, coffee, pastry and fruit (though, just having come from a restaurant, I'm stuffed), and we spend a couple of hours talking. Indeed, her schedule has been hectic. I remember when I was last a guest at his house the meal they served was a veritable feast. Thinking of how much preparation that must have involved, I now realize that his family was indeed too busy to invite me over for a full dinner.

I thought he was avoiding me because of the intefada. When he said he was having difficulty finding time, I thought he was making excuses.

Tuesday, June 19, 2001

This is my last day in Israel. Tomorrow I will be home in California. I always feel a sad nostalgia when I have to leave, the same emotion I felt when, years ago, a visit with my parents in Philadelphia would come to an end, and it would be time for me to go back home. I will miss Israel. In a way, it is like my mother.

But next year, b'ezrat HaShem (with God's help), I will be back.

ISRAEL DIARY - 2002

Sunday, July 21, 2002

I'm finally in the airport, waiting to start the trip.  I had orignally planned to go in May, but I cancelled - mainly due to my wife's terror at the escalating bombings. Also, truth be told, I was a little afraid myself that Syria might enter the conflict, and lead to a full fledged war.  So I canceled. At first I intended to reschedule for October, but I really did not want to wait that long, so I moved it up. According to the news, the situation has been relatively quiet - certainly quieter than two months ago. My wife and kids, and a lot of others are worried, yet I have virtually no fear that I'll be the victim of a terrorist attack.

Tuesday, July 23, 2002

It was exciting when the plane took off from New York.   I wasn't sure I'd be able to come this year. But, here I am in Nahariya. When the plane landed, people applauded.   I haven't seen that in a while.  Perhaps people are less blasé about coming to Israel at this time.

I'm impressed by how normal Israel looks. Looking out the window at the woods near the apartment of my friend, Eli Hazani, one can forget about the tumult.  Terror is discussed more in Israeli radio than in real life, though even there, it doesn't stand out like it does in the American media.  Driving with Eli to the hospital this morning, we heard a lot about the intefada on the radio, but also a lot about restricting free electricity to employees of the electric company.

I walked down to the beach this evening. About half a kilometer away stood a roadblock, something I had never seen before. When I approached the reason was obvious. There was a fair, with crowds and bands (playing all sorts of music, including jazz, Latin music and even Hebrew rap), and different stalls selling food, clothing and handmade "art". A fence surrounded that area, and guards checked everyone going in and out. But there were a lot of people there. It seemed like they were thumbing their noses at the terrorists - they were going to congregate and enjoy themselves in spite of the terrorists.

I'm told that in Tel Aviv, the fairs are even bigger.

Wednesday, July 24, 2002

Jamal tells me that a patient has "GMG" and perhaps I can talk to her and figure out the problem. GMG is "goornisht mit goornisht", Yiddish for "nothing with nothing". But she does have an illness - depression. And it is fairly obvious.

Most Israelis do not think about depression as an illness.

It's cute to hear Jamal, who is Arab, using Yiddish expressions.

Thursday, July 25, 2002

The radio has a discussion as to which is worse - the fear of terrorist attacks or dismay over the economy. They decide that the concern over terror is worse, but it's a close call because the economy is in such bad shape.

A waitress at the restaurant agrees, but she personally isn't worrying because she has just been discharged from the army and is happy.

Sunday, July 28, 2002

Eli again invited me to a concert in Haifa. This seems to be a regular part of my trips here. The hall was not completely full, but I suspect that was because of the program - all Mahler -- more than from fear of terrorists.

Friends of Eli's drove me back to the hospital. On the way we passed large signs advertising Coca Cola and Burger King. I made my standard quip - that Israel is in more danger from the American culture than from the Arabs. This time the quip fell flat. "No, right now the Arabs are the bigger danger," one of the passengers said.

Monday, July 29, 2002

At the beach was a performance whereby the actors invited children to come to the stage for belly dancing. It was quite cute. And now I am listening to a discussion on the problems of the homeless.

The Israelis are not obsessed by the terror attacks, but I do notice that the guard at the department store checks people who are going in, not people who are leaving.

Tuesday, July 30, 2002

I pass by a television on the ward and I notice the word "pigua" - strike. There has been another terrorist attack, this one in Jerusalem. A suicidal murderer exploded himself and wounded five people, apparently none fatally. I stare at the TV, and the pictures of police and ambulances, of streets marked off by taped barriers. No one else gives the TV a glance.

A little later I ask some people if they had heard about the strike. They gasp and check the internet to get details, but a few minutes later we are talking about something else.

I read about how the Palestinians are suffering horribly. They have no jobs, and often have no basic services or even enough food. So why do they not stop these murderous attacks?

Apologists for the Palestinians say that murder attacks are the only weapon they have against the Israeli "occupation". But the terror attacks predate the "occupation." The PLO itself was formed before 1966, the year Israel took the territories from Jordan (not from the Palestinians themselves - they never had control of that area.) So how could the "occupation" be the reason.

The Palestinians could have had their own state and ended Israeli control over their lives two years ago. Granted, the state would have been limited. For one, it would have been demilitarized. Considering the record of terror attacks by the Palestinians against Israel ever since Israel was created, this seems to be a reasonable precaution for Israel to take. Later, assuming a record of peace between the two peoples, the Palestinian State could evolve. But not now.

As an aside, why is no one in the Western world worried about a state for the Kurds?

18:00 It's nice to sit on a bench near the beach and feel the breeze coming in from the Mediterranean. A band is playing, but far enough away that the music, blending with the rushing of the waves, does not intrude. People old and young, healthy and infirm, stroll the promenade and enjoy the late afternoon.

The sun will be setting soon.

One hundred feet from me, guards check every passerby, looking into their bags and scanning them with metal detectors.

When there are no passersby, the guard flirts with a young woman. I'm glad. It gives an aura of normality to the scene. Later I chat with him. He wants to go to medical school in the United States. "My Englisshh is vverri guud" he tells me. I haven't the heart to discourage him.

July 31, Wednesday

There's been another pigua, this time at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. The latest figures are 60 wounded, some seriously, and six dead. There are Arabs at the University - some of them may have been among the victims. Apparently the terrorists don't care.

This time people are watching the TV with me. I feel depressed and want to talk to someone. The secretary on the ward is listening to the news, and seems to be almost in tears. We commiserate. In the next room are five people - an Arab, a religious Jew and three secular Jews. Apparently they know about the strike - I know one, Ivona, does - but they are talking about a variety of other topics, laughing and joking. Later I talk with Ivona. She is upset about it, but certainly not depressed the way I am. Most of the Israelis I talk to are less upset than I am.

On the radio a Hamas leader says that Israel has attacked women and children and so Israel will now taste the same poison. I feel angry. The terrorists have attacked Israeli women and children for years. Is this man trying to say that terrorists are only now starting because of the Israeli attack in Gaza?

More than that, the Israeli attack in Gaza that this leader was referring to was an attack on a specific military target - Salach Shehada, a terrorist thought responsible for hundreds of Israeli civilian deaths. The Israelis say their intelligence told them that Shehada was alone at the time of the attack. You can believe that or not, according to your prejudices - none of us know for sure.

Perhaps the Israeli military judged that taking out this man was worth a dozen or more Arab lives because he was planning hundreds more Israeli civilian deaths, so that the net result would be a gain in lives saved. This is either justifiable or reprehensible according to whose lives you have sympathy for.

But what you cannot say - at least with any honesty or accuracy - is that the Israelis deliberately targeted civilians for attack.

In my experience, Israel haters are not interested in either honesty or accuracy.

Thursday, August 1, 2002

Bellybuttons are flourishing this year. I have no idea why. Many people look at Israel as primarily a religious country, but I don't think so. People who disagree might want to look at the lingerie displays in the store windows.

Saturday, August 03, 2002

Eli and I visit his son, Miron, in Ashkelon, about ten miles from the Gaza strip. I ask him if he has ever been there. "There's nothing for me there," he says. Eli's attentions are all on his granddaughter, Ophir. Nothing else - certainly nothing political - has any interest for him now.

Driving back to Nahariya we pass a massive traffic jam going in the opposite direction. My first thought is that there has been a strike which is blocking traffic. Eli laughs at me. It turns out he is right. The traffic is simply heavy with no specific reason.

Monday, August 05, 2002

There were five piguas yesterday - five. In one of them, more Palestinians were injured and killed than were Israelis. I'm sure the Palestinians do not see that as being a failure.

Hamas celebrates the bus bombing with song and dance, and giving candy to children. They want to 'avenge' the death of Shehada. As if Israelis are not supposed to stop a man who is killing hundreds of Israelis. In the eyes of Hamas, they are not.

I visited Jerusalem yesterday to say hello to the Wall. No way am I going to travel half way around the world to Israel and not visit the Wall.

The streets of Jerusalem were quiet, with few of the crowds one usually sees. Security guards check every passenger who boards a bus.

There were very few people at the Wall itself. The stone plaza in front of the wall was almost empty. I would be embarrassed to take a picture of the wall looking so abandoned.

Of course the Wall doesn't care, but I do.

Thursday, August 08, 2002

Terror attacks, more terror attacks, and now the radio speaks of "mega-terror attacks." I am becoming severely depressed. There are a couple of encouraging items - for example, the Palestinians seem interested in Israel's plan to withdraw first from Gaza and see what happens. But in general, the news stinks.

The neighboring Arab countries show no signs of getting involved with this particular struggle. However, there are continual items about Iraq and Iran preparing nuclear or biological weapons against Israel.

An academic I know here is being shunned by a fellow academic in England who says she cannot "in good conscience … support" Israel. She has signed a strikingly one sided petition condemning Israel's "incursion" without any mention of the terror attacks. I write her that she has a selective conscience.

On the Internet I argue with many who are like her. A common outcome is that they tell me that what they object to is not actually the settlements or the presence of Israeli troops in the territories, but rather Israel itself. It is not a matter of what Israel does - it is a matter of the fact that there is a Jewish state in that land. They want Israel to go away.

Israel is not leaving.

17:40

The first item on the afternoon news is an announcement that the minister of health wants to strengthen the laws against smoking in public. The second item describes the ranting of Saddem Husain. Only later in the broadcast are there follow-ups on recent piguas.

I feel somewhat reassured.

Saturday, August 10, 2002

Another Shabbat with my Hassidic friends, the Ben Drors.  This time I put tape over the light switch in the bathroom so I would not inadvertantly turn it off in the middle of the night.  I pick up their littlest girl, Pleia, swing her around, and throw her over my back, while she squeals with delight.  Moishe, who is now a big, hulking teenager, says wistfully, "I remember when you used to do that to me."

Have I been coming here that long?

Monday, August 12, 2002

Walking through the streets of Nahariya, I come upon Rabbi Akiba street, Rambam street, and Hillel path. In California places have names like Saint Joseph, Saint Thomas, or Saint Claire (in Spanish.)

The names of these "tsadzkim" - saints - are part of me. I am an American, and the United States is my home. At the same time, I need to spend some time here in Israel - a place where you see streets named after the Rambam, Akiva, and Hillel.

There have been no piguas within Israel for a while, thank goodness. There have been some in the settlements. The people killed in the settlements were murdered, no question about it. But why do they choose to live in the settlements. I don't argue with them, but they do have a choice.

Tuesday, August 13, 2002

The hospital has a ceremony to dedicate a pediatric intensive care unit. All sorts of dignitaries come. The director of the hospital speaks of how wonderfully the hospital has performed and how they need more money from the government; the worker's committee representative says that the building is beautiful, but if the administration doesn't treat the employee's better, they will go to Jerusalem to protest; and the minister of health talks like any politician, saying what he thinks his audience wants to hear. The terrorist attacks are mentioned, but only as a pretext to praise the performance of the hospital. The political show they present is refreshingly normal.

Wednesday, August 14, 2002

I don't usually go to Nahariya late at night, so I forget how active it can be. People fill the streets and restaurants, and in general seem happy and active. I sit on a bench, read a Christopher Moore novel, and laugh out loud. The woman sitting next to me asks what I'm reading, and agrees with me that science fiction can be a lot of fun.

Jamal invited me to dinner today, a veritable feast.  Heaven forbid I shouldn't at least sample some of every dish on the table.  As hosts, he and his wife are worse than any Jewish mother.  

He tells me he deals with the news by not listening to it.  I don't blame him.

He paid me a wonderful complement; he said I have taught him to approach medicine as an intellectual exercise, and not just as a system of giving and taking orders. Of course, my real goal is to teach the doctors here to approach medicine as a means of alleviating mental and well as physical suffering.

Thursday, August 15, 2002

Listening to the news is fascinating.  The radio today reports that Palestineans opened fire on an army unit, the army returned the fire, and in the exchange of gunfire, a five year old boy was killed.

Reuter's report ion the same incident s from Nidal al-Mughrabi and says that "A five-year-old Palestinian boy was killed by fire from an Israeli tank ... Palestinian security sources and hospital officials said. They said two Palestinian adults were wounded when they tried to go to the aid of the boy, ... A Palestinian security source said the tank fired "without reason."   An Israeli army spokesman said Israeli forces were responding to gunfire directed at them from the camp district. He had no information about casualties."

One expects Israeli sources to slant the converage in their direction, and Palestineans in theirs.  But why does Reuters give a predominanty Palestinean version?

Yesterday was a short article about how Hamas still demands to have all of Israel - from the Jordan to the Mediterranean. Their demands do not draw a lot of attention.  There are bigger headlines stating that Israel will respond with nuclear weapons if Iraq attacks with biological or chemical warfare, and Iraq may cease to exist as a country. What is interesting about these headlines is that they come from American sources, not Israeli sources.  Israel has managed to threaten Iraq without laying herself open to charges of belligerency.

I hope this was deliberately done.

But it seems like the bad economic news takes first place in the radio.

Tuesday, August 20, 2002

Today I go back home to California. My wife will be glad to have me home. She has been worried about me, but the truth is, I never felt in any danger whatsoever. I was not involved in any terror attacks, none of the people I talked to had been personally involved in any terror attacks, and none even knew anyone who had been personally involved in terror attacks.

This trip was somewhat reassuring. Yes, the situation is bad, and yes, it is a struggle.  But life in Israel is not nearly as bad as Americans - even Americans who, like me, are familiar with the country - think.  Auto accidents are still more of a danger to Israelis and visitors alike than are terrorist attacks.

Each time I leave Israel I feel like I am leaving a very dear friend. But I am confident that next year I will be back.

ISRAEL DIARY - 2003

August 26, Yom Shlishe - Tuesday; 6 PM

This is my tenth consecutive visit in Nahariya, and the third during the intefada. I had hoped the 'hudna' would last until I had finished my trip, but all hell broke loose just before I got here when the terrorists bombed a bus in Jerusalem. Now the situation is as bad as ever.

The sheroot (shuttle) from the airport drops me off at the hospital. The officers at the guard station find the key to my apartment fairly easily this time (once they had to get a locksmith for me to let me in) and then I wander around the hospital. All the offices are in different locations this year. I go to the second flood where Pinemete aleph (internal medicine 'A') used to be and asks someone where it is now. "It's on the first floor," he says, and points up.

Yes, I'm back in Israel.

Yom Rive'e, Wednesday August 27

After two months of the 'hudna', the terrorists have rockets that can reach major cities. Government ministers say this is a 'red line' and they won't stand for it.

This does not impact daily life in Nahariya. So far one person only has volunteered a reference to the political problems. Otherwise, it doesn't bear mention. Granted, up here in the north there have been relatively few attacks, but even one of the national newspapers -- a tabloid, I admit, gives three times as much space to a recent Brink's robbery than to the fighting. And when one of the people who works here asks if I heard the latest, she doesn't mean the longer range rockets, but rather that Ehud Barak and his wife are separating after 24 years.

August 29 Yom Shishi - Friday

I'm sitting by the beach, listening to the wind and waves, and looking at the women in bikinis, hoping to find one worth looking at.

It's a slow day.

The news shows have a lot about the conflict, but not as much as I'd expect. Last night I tuned into a program about deaths on the highways. At first I thought they were talking about terrorist deaths, but it turned out the subject was the lack of consistent use of seatbelts.

Hamas keeps threatening revenge for the deaths of its operatives. It is so stupid. They want to destroy the county. What more revenge can they exact? Do they really expect Israel not o defend herself against the individuals who murder Israelis?

Inane.

A guard at the beach, a woman about 40 with a friendly smile and an effective looking rifle, last night gave one of the better definitions of Zionism. "This is our country -- the one and only."

August 31 Yom rishon ,Sunday 6:30

In a park near the beach, a guitar player warms up with Spanish love songs. Closer to the beach other bands practice, getting ready for the tourists and the people who live here. Two burros wait patiently on the sand, ready to carry little children around the beach.

The evening is pleasantly cool with a steady breeze. The sun will soon set over the Mediterranean, but a cloudbank on the horizon will probably block the actual sunset. Which is a shame. I love to watch the sunset.

Eli Hazani took me to a concert in Tel Aviv last night. Uta Lemper sang songs of Kurt Weil and others. She is a powerful singer.

It was a huge hall with several different performances -- all of them packed. The terrorists may blow up buses, but they aren't scaring Israelis into staying home nights.

Tourists or visitors like me, however, are afraid to take buses.

Yom shlishe. September 2.

Another Hamas leader killed, another set of threats from Hamas. Don't they realize how ridiculous these threats are? Do they think any neutral observer (if there are any) would believe they would really stop killing Israelis if Israel did not kill their operatives? That's the reason Israel is targeting them - because they are already killing Israelis.

Four headlines this afternoon -- a traffic accident, and three crimes, none terrorist related. Actually, the biggest news story for the past two days has been the release of the Ohr Committee report that severely criticizes the police for their reaction to Israeli Arab riots two years ago in which 13 Arab Israeli citizens were killed.

When do Arab countries lambaste their police departments because of dead Jews?

Yom hamishi - Thursday - Sept 4th.

Guards no longer stand at the entrance to the tiyellet (walkway) at the shore, probably because the fair is over, the stalls selling cheap jewelry, toys, and snacks are gone, and the crowds are thinner. Still there are plenty of people walking up and down -- teens with cigarettes hanging from their lips, young lovers, younger and older married couples, people with baby carriages, bicycles, motorized carts, datiim (religious people) with head coverings and long clothing, secular girls with bare midriffs and long, gorgeous hair. All types, strolling up and down the shoreline.

It's difficult to remember that this is a country at war against an implacable enemy.

Motzi Shabbat - Saturday - September 6

I spent Shabbat with Jonathan and Pat Singer-Jordon, an orthodox couple. They are incredibly hospitable. He's a radiologist, and does a lot of interventional radiology, which means he can treat with tubes in blood vessels a lot of problems that used to require surgery. He showed me x-rays of an elderly man who had a bad aneurysm that he was able to close without sending the man to the operating table. I was impressed

I am still a little surprised at how intensely Jon, a man educated in science and the scientific method, believes the tenets of Orthodox Judaism. I've learned not to discuss it with him a lot. Even asking questions sometimes brings more in the way of explanation than I had been prepared for. Though today, while we were driving from his house in the hills of Ma'alote down to Nahariya on the coast, and I was admiring the spectacular view of the mountains and the sparkling ocean, with Haifa sparkling clear to the left, I commented that his community seemed to regard learning (i.e. learning Talmud) as a generally expected activity. He said that yes, this was typical of Judaism in as a whole - that our purpose here on earth was to understand, as far as we could, the mind of G-d.

What a beautiful idea.

If I thought Talmud study would enable me to understand G-d, I'd do it also.

Erev Shabat (Friday evening) they had more people over for dinner, Richard and Devora, who had immigrated from California just a couple of months ago. Richard doesn't have a job and is obviously concerned about his prospects. It seemed strange that this fully American couple - he doesn't even have the beard that is typical of orthodox men - would make aliya without being able to arrange such an important factor as employment beforehand. Then, while we were eating, he commented on a book on Jon's shelf, "Auschwitz Album", a collected of pictures taken by an unknown photographer in the death camp.

"This is our family album," he said, and showed us all pictures of cousins, uncles and other relatives who had been in the camps, most of whom had died there.

It was positively eerie.

Suddenly, his immigrating to Israel, even without prospects of work, did not seem strange at all.

Yom Rishon, Sunday, September 7

A couple of us are getting ready to go to heder ochel (the dining room) for lunch, and we invite a third doctor, a guy who makes a big show of being rough but who is actually a sweetie. "I'm forbidden to go there," he says.

Our faces must radiate our astonishment so he explains. In Nazi Germany he had to wear a Jewish star, and he has vowed never to do that again. It isn't clear if the problem for him is the actual wearing of the star or the compulsion to wear it. At any rate, to go to heder ochel, you have to wear a hospital nametag -- which has a Jewish star.

The hospital administrator will not make an exception for him. So he won't go to heder ochel.

I think the administrator is dead wrong. To me, all consideration should be given holocaust survivors, especially in the Jewish state.

Monday, Sept 8 9:30

The news yesterday reports that the employees of the Museum of the Diaspora are being put on 3 months unpaid leave -- which in effect means that the museum. From a symbolic viewpoint this is a catastrophe.

Israel tried to kill Yassin, the Hamas leader, but failed. Had they used a bigger bomb -- and killed more innocent bystanders -- they might have been able to decapitate the snake. Now Hamas keeps threatening 'revenge' and security forces are on high alert. It would be nice it they could prevent all the strikes, but more likely that one or two will slip through.

Snakes have too many heads anyway.

Noon: A young Arab woman, six weeks pregnant with her first child, was admitted yesterday with high fever. The fever has since subsided and does not look to be dangerous to her or to her baby, but I notice while the others are examining her that she is crying. After the exams, I go over to her and try to reassure her that fear during a first pregnancy is common, and this fever surely aggravates that fear but even so, there is little cause for worry.

It turns out the situation is more complicated. She is six weeks pregnant, but her wedding was just last week. To avoid having menses during the wedding, she took pills that do have a theoretical chance of causing virulization of a female fetus. So not only does she have the small but realistic chance of a problem, she also has the guilt and shame of this having occurred because she got pregnant before marriage. I reassure her as best I can that there is little likelihood of a problem, and she thanks me gratefully - not for the news, but because I took the time to talk to her. Whether the doctor is Jewish or Arab, whether the patient is Jewish or Arab, Israeli doctors do not take the time to explain to their patients in the hospital what is happening.

She tells me that the parents do not know she is pregnant and I shouldn't tell them. Eli has told me of incidents within Israel where unmarried pregnant women have been murdered by their families. Since this woman is married, that doesn't seem likely, but even so…

The husband repeats the admonition not to tell the parents. I agree and tell him that in the USA this kind of thing happens all the time. He laughs. I wonder if he thinks that Jews are sexually less moral than are Arabs.

Tuesday, Sept 9 11AM

We are examining a woman with headache and fever. The fever has subsided, but the headache has persisted, and in fact had started before the fever. Brain and sinus scans are normal, and physical and neurological exams show only spasm in the back of her neck.

I ask her about stress and worry. She says everything is fine, she and her husband get along well, and there are no problems.

Children?

Yes. One is in the army.

Stationed where?

Gaza.

We have our diagnosis.

8PM Six hours ago there was another pigua (terrorist attack), this one at a bus stop near Tel Aviv. Seven people dead so far, and more seriously wounded. For two hours the news discusses nothing else, but people on the street give it no more than a passing glance. I pass a group of Arab women in traditional headdress on the street. With total irrationality, I feel some anger towards them, and then feel ashamed of myself.

When counting the dead, they don't usually include the dead terrorist. I think that's reasonable.

Wednesday, Yom Rive'ee September 10, 2003

Itimar is a 30 year old intern. His head is shaved - a Jewish skinhead. I guess those who say that shaving the head is a fashion more than a political statement are right.

He tells me he thinks some of the accounts about parents cheering the death of their terrorist children are propaganda. He says that the Palestinian Authority gives them money, which they sorely need, to say these things. I hope he's right. It chills my blood to think that parents could be so bloodthirsty as to cheer when their own children die. But I think Itimar is too optimistic. I have heard about these cheers from too many different sources.

I ask the young pregnant lady who is worrying about a deformed fetus if she wants to 'continue' with the pregnancy. "Do you mean an abortion?" she asks. She seems to be very interested in this idea. I tell the residents to arrange a gynecology consult.

Thursday, Yom Hamishi September 11, 2003

An elderly Arab woman has shingles, Herpes Zoster, a form of chickenpox. It's possible for her grandchildren to catch it as chickenpox from her. I ask one of the nurses to translate for me. I start telling the woman about the disease. She seems alert and it looks like she grasps the concepts, but in the middle of the discussion the nurse states outright that the patient cannot understand, that no matter how simply the nurse puts it, the patient will not understand. The nurse becomes quite impatient.

I don't understand the impatience. This is one of her own people. Doesn't this nurse want to help her to understand her illness?

Friday, September 12, 2003

The chabad squad got me. I was walking along the main street in Nahariya when they stopped me. I told them that I would be going to a chabad family to spend Shabbat and would be shomrei Shabbat, but they asked if I would lay tfillin. I had to admit I wouldn't. "It only takes ten minutes to say She'ma," they said. So I did it. I can never refuse those guys.

Saturday, September 13, 2003

Back from being an observant Jew for a second weekend in a row, this time at the house of Gadi ben Dror, a hassid. I'm always impressed by how happy the different members of his family, including the children, seem.

They routinely sing different Hassidic ningunim (songs) at the Friday night dinner table but I was surprised when they all broke out into the Marseilles, the French national anthem. Apparently, the Rebbe (Shneersohn) had once chosen that as an appropriate song for the year. They changed the words and a couple of the notes (not that I could notice the difference) and now it is a Hassidic song.

Sunday, September 14, 2003

This evening I had dinner with a Christian Arab family and I am stuffed. They had salads, vegies, pita, humus and techina, lamb cooked two different ways, chicken, meats wrapped in bread, beer, wine, soda, fruits, nuts, Arabic pastries - oy. And they kept asking me why I wasn't eating enough.

The mother, discharged from the medical ward last week, had been worried about cancer but was afraid to ask specifically if that was what she had. I volunteered the information (that she did not have cancer) and she broke into tears with relief. Just before discharge she invited me to dinner, and when I hesitated, she pushed me - 'Why won't you come?' What could I say? Arab meals are not to be shunned if you aren't a masochist.

It was a delightful evening, sitting on the porch with a cool evening breeze, listening to the Muslim calls to prayer. This particular village was integrated, with Muslims, Christians and Druse.

There were two uncomfortable moments. One was when I had commented that Nahariya had been free of terrorist attacks, and one woman (not my patient) reminded me that there had been one a few years ago, and mentioned that the terrorist had come from their village. Then she laughed.

Probably she laughed from nervousness.

The second was when that same woman asked me if all American Jews were rich. There was no nervous laugh that time.

Monday, September 15, 2003

The young woman who got pregnant a month before marriage is very happy now. The gynecologist explained about getting an ultrasound and, if there was a fetal abnormality, she could have an abortion. So she doesn't have to worry about delivering a deformed baby because she screwed around earlier than she was supposed to.

Thursday, September 19, 2003

Arafat states that all Palestinians are willing to be martyrs. There is something indecent about a 74 year old man declaring the willingness of children to kill themselves.

Since the Israelis have threatened to expel him, there has been a lot of talk from the Palestinian side about renewed cease fire, etc. The Israeli position seems to be that it's no longer enough for the murderous organizations to say they will stop murdering. The organizations have to be dismantled so that are unable to resume the murdering if they want to. Of course, some people will say the Israeli position is unreasonable.

Only a week left 'b'arretz.' I want to be home with my family, but I will be sorry to leave.

Motzi Shabbat - September 20, 2003

Sitting by the beach, I meet a couple who had immigrated from the USA about 40 years ago. I haven't seen them in years. We start talking, and they invite me for dinner. I never refuse such offers. We talk about our families. One of their children lives with his family in Netzarim, a settlement in Gaza. He describes how they have to join armored convoys and wear helmets and flak jackets in order to visit them. Their grandson is 8 years old and still wets the bed.

"Do you worry about them?" I ask.

They laugh. "Of course. Every day."

Monday, September 22, 2003

Today I went to Jerusalem. My wife was worried because so many of the attacks have been there, but there is no way that I'll come half way around the world from California to Israel without saying hello to the Kotel. As the train to Tel Aviv gets ready to pull out, one man, with a kippa, starts shouting that a second man passed through the checkpoint without having his bags checked. The second shouts back "They checked, they checked." The train pulls out and a policeman comes over to the second man and very politely asks to check his bags. I decide to get up and go to another car.

No one else bothers.

Not surprisingly, there is no explosion.

I've promised not to take any busses and I can't find any shared taxis so I have to take private cabs between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. It costs $100 but it's worth it to sooth my wife's worries a bit. I tell the cab driver that I thought the buses from one city to another were safe because you can check all the people who get on more easily. He tells me that no, there have been three attacks on buses from one city to another.

He tells me that the Arab plot is to have the Palestinians kill all the Jews, and then for the other Arabs to kill the Palestinians, and then to conquer the entire world. He's very excited as he tells me all this. I think he's paranoid. I wonder how many other people think the way he does.

I hope he's just being paranoid.

He lets me off at Ben Yehuda street, a "madrichov," a little like an outdoor mall. It's too touristy for my tastes today, so I just walk through some of the city streets, and through a park. I ask in which direction is the old city, and for once in Israel I get an accurate answer.

Finally I get to the old city, put on a kippa, beat off the offers of tour guides, and start walking. I go into one of the tunnels lined by an unending series of Arab shopkeepers, and they start trying to attract my attention to sell me something. I remember Eli's comments about them resenting Jews who wear a kippa as being arrogant, so, rather than take off the kippa, I turn around, leave the tunnel, and take the long way around through the Armenian quarter. They I am caught by a tour guide, who shows me David's tomb, the crammed quarters of someone or other who blesses me and my family, and Oscar Shindler's grave. The last I haven't seen before. I offer him 20 sheckles, but he wants 50, and says he had hoped I would give him 100.

Oh well.

Then I get to the Kotel. It is there, as always, towering and magnificent. I stay there a few minutes, then go to walk around the old city, get something to eat, shop, and end up getting into a long conversation with one Jerusalemite about what motivates people. I return to the Kotel. This time I stay longer. Finally, I leave the plaza, and take a cab back to Tel Aviv, and from there a train to Nahariya.

People seem to think it admirable that I spend a day just to visit the Wall. But how could I not?

September 25, Yom Hamishi, 4 AM

I'm sitting by the guardhouse at this ungodly hour waiting for the sheroot to take me to the airport, and back to the United States. It's pleasantly cool, and each car that passes makes me turn my head, hoping it's my ride.  The guard is a pleasant young man who offers me his seat and asks if I want something to drink.  I tell him he has the honor of being the last person I nag about smoking this trip.  He laughs but continues to puff on one cigarette after another.  He tells me that life is hard here, and I agree. Israelis must work longer hours for less pay to buy more expensive materials of lower quality.  

But this is the only country we Jews have.  We have to support -- not everything it does, not by a long shot.  But we have to support its existence.  Israel must continue to live as a Jewish state.  After all, it's our one and only.

EPILOGUE - 2005

I'm sitting at the airport, waiting for the flight to take me back home to the USA. I didn't come last year because my wife and I went elsewhere for vacation and I didn't have enough vacation time left to come here. This year I had the time.

This was my 11th visit and it's been wonderful for a number of personal reasons. But also, it was nice to see Israel again without the siege of the intefada. There are still guards at the stores, but not on the beaches, and people in general seem less pressured. There are of course problems. I nearly had my flight delayed from an airport workers' strike. The withdrawal from Gaza takes first place in most of the news programs. And of course, Iran, which has vowed to destroy Israel, is building nuclear weapons.

But at least people are not regularly being blown up in restaurants and shopping malls in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. I can't even say the terrorist attacks have stopped entirely. I can say they are orders of magnitude less.

And for that, I'm sure most Israelis are thankful. I certainly am.

 Revised 8/05