One week since everything changed.
Last Saturday I woke up to sirens at around 6:30 in the morning and rushed to the building shelter. Here we go again, I thought, preparing myself for another round of fighting until there was a ceasefire. But it quickly became clear that there would be no ceasefire in the near future. I turned on the news and was shocked by the images of Hamas terrorists in the streets of Sderot and Ofakim - how did they get there? And where was the army?? The news reporters seemed just as shocked and confused as it slowly became clear that Hamas was taking control of several Kibbutzim in the Gaza envelope. I will never forget when the news reporter took a breath and said that there were 22 dead, among them civilians. At the time, a few hours after the attack, the number felt incredibly high and although they said that the number of casualties would rise, I don't think anyone imagined that it would reach 1,300 and still counting. I learned that there were very graphic videos going around of kidnapped soldiers and civilians but I refused to watch them, not sure what was real and what wasn't, it all felt too surreal. When I met my neighbors at the bomb shelter again in the evening, I realized that this was the darkest day in Israel's history and nothing would ever be the same.
The following days were a blur, on Sunday my social media feed was flooded with countless images of murdered or missing kibbutz residents and young people who had attended the Supernova rave turned massacre, their friends and relatives frantically searching for any information. On Monday the obituaries started and haven't stopped, too many of my friends know people who were murdered. In the next few days, the extent of the massacres in the kibbutzim became clear, Be'eri lost 10% of its population, 108 people, including children and infants. Yesterday was spent reading moving accounts of survivors and unexpected heroes. If you are able to access it, please take the time to read Nir Gontarz's account of how his 23-year-old son survived the Supernova rave massacre, and was eventually rescued by retired major-general Yair Golan, just one of many rescues made by Golan last Saturday. In an ideal world Golan, a former Meretz MK, would be in the cabinet making decisions that will affect our country's future, instead of those who are currently in government and barely governing.
I had always found Full Trunk's hit 'As a stone' to be very soothing, a song to help you calm down. I saw the song in a new light after Gal Nisman explained its meaning in an episode of 'One Song' a few years ago. While it's purposely not stated clearly, the lyrics are about Nisman's struggles with PTSD, which he became aware of during a round of rocket attacks by his home in the Gaza envelope. Nisman said that the song was about his healing process from the moment he lost his close friend during a military operation in Gaza. After a lot of work, he was able to go back to being himself, though of course not the same as he was before. Nisman, who still resides in the Gaza envelope, shared on his Instagram a few days ago "...They murdered here, body and soul, an entire community of friends, families and acquaintances, desecrated the women and children, kidnapped, slaughtered and burned everything that breathed, and looted everything they could." Nisman thanked the security forces and the kitot konenut (volunteer defense forces made up of kibbutz residents) who 'are fighting with insane bravery and ferocity against these subhuman monsters'.
Stay safe Gal, and thank you for sharing your beautiful music with us.
Slowly I'm facing all the things I left behind.
All, all I ever tried was just to find a way to ease my mind.
Cold hearted as a stone
Pulling tricks to play along
I'm going back to be myself as I have known.
Slowly I'm facing all the things I left behind.
Slowly I'm letting go of fears I've tried to hide
Cold hearted as a stone
Pulling tricks to play along
I'm going back to be myself as I have known.
