Hello from Sderot!
In this blog, I share my random thoughts, feelings and experiences living under rocket fire and red dawn sirens.
I would like to share with you a conversation I had today with a friend about Sderot.
Having seen my status update on Facebook, which stated “Anav is in Sderot–typing away,” the following conversation took place:
Friend: What are you doing in Sderot–typing away?
Me: Writing articles, editing, translating, work!
Friend: How are the matzas (a kind of cracker eaten during Passover) down in Sderot?
Me: Delicious–nice flavor of kassams…
Friend: With just a pinch of the color red
Me: Perfecto! A complete recipie for fear, anxiety, and trauma…
Today has been a quiet day in Sderot. Quiet, of course, meaning no red alerts (yet!) or rocket explosions. There are not many places in the world where the word quiet for civilians literally means no or relatively little terror activity for that day.
I’m thankful for days like these, because it reminds me of the kind of town that Sderot once was, seven years ago. There are days where I leave Sderot still hearing the red dawn sirens–Tzeva Adom–ringing in my head. It doesn’t matter if I’m in Jerusalem or Tel Aviv, way out of the vicinity of rocket fire, the sounds of sirens and booms remains with me.
I live in Sderot part-time. Just imagine what the residents here go through–living with the sirens and rocket explosions on a daily basis.
The psychological trauma of the rocket terror has been devestating for the residents of Sderot and the western Negev. There are children who have been born into this noise of booms and sirens, who have no idea what it’s like to grow up in a peaceful quiet environment.
As one Sderot mother once aked to me: What will happen to these Israeli children when they grow into adults?
Until next time, may the residents of southern Israel experience a quiet and peaceful Pesach.
Sderot children at school recess playing near bomb shelter.
Photo Credit: Anav Silverman
