Day 7: Bombs, Breakfast, and the Beach
March 1, 2026
For Erev Shabbat, Friday night, we enjoyed a beautiful meal together of items we got at the store - meet and cheese and crackers and some pita with hummus. Our time together was so good! As we enjoyed our meal, we had all received notifications that the US Government was urging their employees to leave due to an increased terror threat. Honestly, it was so out of context that we discussed whether to go or stay. I think we all agreed to stay.
That night, I was awake a lot. Much of the time when I am woken up like that it is for me to pray, but I couldn’t decide what to pray for. So I prayed for the peace of Israel, the people here, and a relief to any tensions that may occur. I prayed for the safety of my family and friends and nation far back home. Eventually, I fell back to sleep.
I came downstairs in my pajamas at breakfast time, but all I really wanted was some coffee. I had intended to go right back up, but I saw Richard, one of my fellow travelers, and sat down to chat with him while I enjoyed my first cup of coffee on what I thought would be a quiet Shabbat. That was not meant to be.
The first alarm went off at around 7 am. The employee setting up breakfast was obviously alarmed, and waved us into the nearby shelter – or safe space – and soon the entire hotel was there, and some of the neighbors.
At that time, we did not know that Israel and the US had started attacking Iran. We didn’t know the alarm was because of retaliation for that. We didn’t know what we was happening at all. Over the course of the day, we were in and out of the shelter more than 20 times. Sometimes we would still be emerging from the shelter just as another alarm came through. Our group likely would have spent most of the day in the breakfast area regardless so we could fellowship and pray. Instead, we spent the day in companionable fear.
We borrowed the conference room at the hotel for our morning prayer meeting, and I was so blessed to be able to share the Sabbath prayers in person! So many times over the past 6 years I have lead the prayers for them on Zoom, where I could only imagine my friends joining me. It was lovely to lift our voices together and share in these beautiful moments.
Throughout the day our phones shouted out, the Tzophar app warning us about incoming bombs. You may have seen on the news that one bomb got through, and killed a woman at a nearby apartment building. We heard that one. It was loud, but not that close. It’s a terrible feeling knowing that someone may have died.
What can I say about what this feels like? How can I express the sensation that death might fall from the sky at any moment? How can I explain how it feels when one’s phone starts screaming, and warning that a launch has occurred, and bombs may be here in a few minutes, and then to hear everyone else’s phone go off at the same time? How can I describe what it feels like to sit with strangers and share a tiny, claustrophobic, space with 20 fragile people?
The pattern has become familiar. The alarm goes off on my phone, and a mechanical voice tells me that alerts are expected in a few minutes, and to be prepared to take shelter. Then the air raid sirens sound – usually going down the stairs. Any American mid-westerner would recognize this sound – the great big “woooooooo----wooooooo” Everyone stops what they are doing – sleeping, showering, eating – writing – even as I write this, my phone is starting to beep. It warns us we have a few minutes - then the alarms start wailing. We cram into the claustrophobic safety space – and we chatter – talking – listening – waiting – staring at our phones and waiting for the all clear.
People come in off the streets. This morning we had an IDF member come through, full uniform, rifle over his shoulder, pack on his back. People have come in while walking their dogs, and neighbors in nearby buildings have become familiar faces. From the time you hear the initial warning to the time the bombs reach Isreali airspace is 10-15 minutes, and then the alarms begin to wail – on our phones and in the city.
The night’s sleep was interrupted twice – and then finally we got a little rest. Of course, it began again about 6:30 this morning and then again at almost 8. Eventually, Shawna and I decided to venture out and were gratified to see the world was coming out as well.
We visited a restaurant called, “Lebowski’s” that has Lebowski as their symbol. It’s funny the mix of American products and American-ism you see here. McDonald's and Dominoes both have stores nearby. There’s a Papa John’s down the street, and nearly all of the condiments are Heinz. In the grocery store, you see American products like Krusteaz pancake mix next to Hebrew brands and other international brands I do not recognize.
Our breakfast was delicious – I had eggs benedict on toast with a huge green salad. Shawna had a burger that looked so good, I wanted to eat meat!! While we ate, funny little birds flew into the patio space we were in and eat crumbs we tossed to them. It’s so strange to enjoy such a charming breakfast at a sidewalk cafĂ© while wondering where the nearest bomb shelter is located. I was too busy eating and didn't take any photos, but here's a picture of a ginger pigeoan I found on the way. You all know I love my gingers!
Shawna and I then walked over to the sea together. It was so beautiful out! It seemed impossible that bombs could fall. We were picking up shells and talking to the pigeons, who seemed to be escorting us down to the beach. Just as we decided we would come back to the hotel, our phones gave the initial alarm. I was confident that we could make it back to the Port Hotel, so we hustled back. We made it in plenty of time.
I finished my day with a walk to the sea to watch the sunset with friends.
And we finished with wine and pasta at a nearby restaurant called the Pasteria, for possibly the very best cheese tortellini in cream sauce I've ever eaten - fresh bread and delicious Israeli wine.
In American, people talk about “privilege.” Checking one’s privilege, white privilege, American privilege. But when I see Israeli’s getting on with their lives under the threat of daily bombings – visiting stores and restaurants and walking their dogs and children, I realize what a great privilege it has been to grow up in the country of cities without walls. Where we have never known the experience to need to rush to a bomb shelter – to be awakened by bomb alarms, to be forced into tiny cramped spaces for safety. To go to sleep in my bed at night, and wake up in the morning uninterrupted by the fear of death. It’s amazing how quickly it becomes “normal,” but it should never be normal.
I give thanks to my god for the great privilege of growing up in America. I give thanks that I have been safe from bombs and fear and midnight alarms. I give thanks that my children and grandchildren have always known that sense of safety and security. I am indeed privileged. I lift up the beautiful people of Israel, and ask YHVH to protect them and keep them – to smile up on them and be gracious to them – to lift up his countenance upon them and above all things, I wish them shalom.
Tomorrow we will go out again and try to tourist. We came here to do some things, and we want to be doing them. We will commence with our Pesach a month “early” as the Hillel calendar does not follow the barley as we do. Tomorrow evening we will do the footwashing, and then Wednesday evening we will observe our pesach. For the next seven days we will eat unleavened bread, and look forward to the Feast of First fruits.
If anyone wonders, I am not afraid. I do not fear the bombs or the uncertainty. I do not fear my possible death, as I cannot see that YHVH would send 14 witnesses all this way just to kill us. Even so, I covet your prayers, family. Please keep myself, Shawna, Joe, Randy, Richard, Ann and Antony, Johan and Karen, Frank and Mary, Shane and Anita and Mitzi all in your prayers. Please mention us by name and ask the Father to continue to hold us in the palm of his hand.
It is such a privilege to be here. It’s such a joy to contribute to this economy, to meet these kind and resilient people, and to enjoy the wildlife here. May YHVH bless you and keep you as well for taking the time to read my blog.
Shalom from Tel Aviv
Rose, your blog is so appreciated. As I've been in the Zoom Shabbat for a long time and have listened to your beautiful voice reading and singing the midrash, this blog makes you so real. Yehovah bless and keep all of you.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Deb. Your prayers matter. :)
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