Haifa? On Tisha B’Av? (Article #15) 8/10/2006

I am writing this on the afternoon of Tisha B’Av as I travel back from Haifa to Beit Shemesh. It is getting toward the end of the fast, and I am tired. Yet I am happy that I went (despite all my fears) and am looking forward to the end of the fast.

People have been asking me for the past few weeks if it is more meaningful being here for the 3 weeks and Tisha B’Av. I must admit, that when I am in the old city, especially during the 3 weeks which began one week after we arrived, I have indeed felt a special sense of the tragedy which befell us in the destruction of the Beit Hamikdosh.

It is definitely a very emotionally powerful moment when one stands in the Kotel tunnels at the closest point I can get to the Kodesh Hakedoshim (especially since I am a Kohen). Actually seeing the damage done to the stone road when the overpass entrance to the Beit Hamikdosh was destroyed also provided a much more tangible sense of the destruction and loss.

However, I just wasn’t able to get into the mood of Tisha B’Av itself. We have so much happening in our lives right now. There is so much turmoil and transition that it has become increasingly difficult to focus.

We are living in a “vacation home”. While it is certainly comfortable, it isn’t our home, and it is tough to feel as if we are living real life while we are there. Especially when we realize that we are about to move again in about 2 weeks.

As an Oleh trying to deal with many different issues integrating into a new country with a totally new set of rules, our whole family’s experience has been overwhelmingly positive. I know that many others are suffering greatly from the war and in much more difficult ways than I ever will. But, the results of the war are beginning to take a toll on us as well.

Our container with all our stuff (clothes, furniture, appliances, beds, etc.) is still in Greece. We have heard that they are shuttling containers from Greece to Israel in smaller ships but that it is a mess. *Sigh*

We have definitely begun to see small signs of change due to the war more and more. Our initial “wake-up” was seeing the families that evacuated the North living in the Beit Shemesh schools.

Shabbat Chazon morning, I was sitting with my nephew Yitzie who had joined us on break from Mach Hach Ba’aretz and was commenting to him how the Mercazi Shul that we were davening in was having its second no speech week in a row (the prior week we were Mevarech Hachodesh and the Rav davened for the Amud so he didn’t speak) since the Rav seemed to be absent. My friend Moshe Teren who is a Gabbai in the shul walked over to me that moment and said, “Here’s something you don’t see in the States.”

“What?” I replied.

“The Rav not being in shul because he was called up to serve as Rav for Chayalim at the Lebanese border that are entering combat.”

It was certainly eye opening. He had been called the prior Sunday (for a 7-10 day period) not to fight, but to act in his capacity as Rav for those Chayalim (soldiers) who needed minyanim, to ask about a halacha, to make a psak or just counsel those young men and women at the front lines who were about to enter or were just returning from the active war zone. That certainly IS something you would not see in the States.

On Sunday I took the train to Yerushalayim with my nephew. The Train station is a 5 minute walk from Teddy Stadium where the Mach Hach campers were to assemble and go to their busses for the rest of their tour. It is also a 10 minute bus ride from the Yeshiva, so I am on the train often.

The train left almost 25 minutes late and seemed much more crowded than usual. Initially, I didn’t attribute it to anything specific, but when we got off the train there were literally hundreds of Chayalim exiting the train. Apparently, the reserve call up of 30,000 troops had a major muster point at Teddy Stadium that morning and they were all coming to report for duty and transportation to their training bases.

The rest of the week I noticed other things that would normally not have caught my eye, but I am beginning to notice. For instance, security on the buses. I know that there are officers who randomly board the buses and check for suspicious items for security purposes. They board the bus at one stop, do a quick walk through of the bus and then stand by the driver for 5-10 stops before getting off and moving to another bus.

Yet there was a couple of days in the last 2 weeks that it seemed there were security people everywhere. Every bus had one and they rode the bus for long stretches at a time.

Also, there are certain days when my laptop bag gets a cursory glance from security guards before they wave me into the train station or restaurant or mall that I am going to. But on Erev Tisha B’av every guard was extremely attentive to going through the entire bag, and the guard by the central bus station even made me turn on the laptop to make sure that it was really a working computer!

I am sure that they had and will always have certain times where they have an advisory that something “may” take place or that they know of a threat directed at a specific target. I am sure that they also have days were they tighten security as a drill in order to maintain their watchfulness. However, I probably noticed it more because of the heightened sensitivities in the state of war.

Last week our Yeshiva’s summer program concluded. The South African and Australian students are now with their parent program and will leave on a tour of Poland next week. My boss Rav Benny Pflanzer went to Miluim before we even had a chance to sit together for a moment, so the Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yehuda Susman and I had to take more active roles in preparing the building for the new zman than we had expected.

Our Yeshiva is growing from 45 to 75 (85 in January) talmidim, causing a need for an expanded Beit Midrash as well as dormitories, classrooms and dining facilities. We occupy a cnverted (by us) apartment building, so we are in the midst of a major renovation that was set into motion by Rav Benny and trying to make sure that everything is done functionally without costing a fortune.

On Sunday I tried to call my sister in Tel Hashomer and couldn’t get through to her. I finally reached her on the cell to hear that she had gone to Haifa and Naharia to visit a sister in law who was on her deathbed as well as her husband’s extended family that live in the North.

I was amazed that she would make such a trip. After all, rockets had been pouring down on the area without pause and it seemed foolhardy to go there. However, this sister in law was quite ill, and my sister wanted to visit her. Unfortunately, the woman passed away on Monday morning and my sister was extremely grateful that she had made the trip.

On Tuesday, Goldie came to Yerushalayim with Zippy (pronounced Tzippy) Lieberman so that we could all go to the Misrad Harishui (licensing authority) to apply for Israeli drivers licenses. Their offices are located a ten minute walk from the Yeshiva in Talpiot.

The process of getting a drivers license is quite unusual compared to what we are used to. In America, everything but the actual driving lessons (if needed) is done at the DMV. Eye exam, testing, payments, anything related to getting the license is handled by them.

In Israel, getting the license is a multi stage process involving many different organizations. First is getting the initial application into the system and taking your picture. This can be conveniently be done at the Malcha Mall (next to the Yerushalayim train station) in an optical shop. Why is it convenient? So that you can take the form to the back of the store for your 40 shekel ($9) eye exam, administered by one of the opticians in the store.

After the eye exam, you need to take a trip to the doctor so that he can give you a medical exam and pronounce you fit for driving. This normally costs 70 shekel, but both Goldie and I set up medical appointments for other things when we went and just had the doctor fill out the forms while we were already there.

After the doctor approves you, you need to take your 1) US drivers license, 2) Aliyah Certificate, 3) Citizenship papers and 4) the drivers license application and vision/medical form to the licensing authority offices. Once they process the paperwork, you need to go for a driving lesson before you take the road test (paying the road test fee of course at the – you guessed it – POST OFFICE!?!).

We got to the licensing offices at 11:30 or so on a nice hot day and proceeded to wait in line at the information counter, just like we would at the DMV. After 10 minutes (and 2 guys cutting the line) it was our turn at the desk and we proudly presented our papers. The lady glanced at them and said (in Hebrew), “Can’t you read? You need to go to the windows inside!”

Well, in all honesty I am pretty sure that I can read. What I read was a sign in English that said: To all New Olim and Tourists, For the getting of a Driving Certificate you must present a Foreign License, a Teudat Oleh, a Teudat Zehut and the Vision and Medical Approval Forms. That was it. There was nothing else on the sign about going to the interior room to present the papers, so we assumed we were in the right place.

Apparently, one of the Hebrew signs clearly states “Drivers Licenses proceed inside and take a number.” Since I have no idea how to say drivers license in Hebrew, I didn’t realize that I was in the wrong line. It was only 10 minutes anyway.

When we went to the interior room we had to take a number from one of those plastic dispensers they have in the bakery. The room had about 8 windows to transact business with 3 clerks serving the people. When they would complete a transaction, each clerk had a button to advance the counter to the next number.

We had numbers 188, 189 and 190. When we took the numbers, they were currently serving number 129, and we got nervous. With 3 people working it would take at least an hour to get to our turn in line, if not more. Goldie wanted to go get an iced coffee for the wait, and it was a good thing she didn’t because we got to enjoy a real slice of the Israeli mentality while we waited and she would have also missed out turn in line.

Apparently, Israelis are not the most patient of people, and they hate waiting. As we watched, there must have been at least 30 people who walked into the room, took a number and left the room in disgust when they saw how huge the gap was to get to them.

At the same time, the clerks would sometimes go through 6 or more numbers to get to the next customer since so many people had already left.

These clerks do this every day, and it is no doubt very irritating to them that people constantly take numbers and then leave. So they fight back a little.

In America, there is a pause of 2 or 3 seconds between the clerk calling out one number and moving on to the next. 145…..(pause), 146……(pause), 147….., until the next person in line is served.

One of the clerks would go through the numbers in that manner. However, the 2 others would make one pause after the first number and then ding*ding*ding*ding* keep revolving the number until somebody would come up to their window. 145…..(pause), 146, 147, 148, 149 – non stop.

Well, unless you were paying close attention, the number machine would just zip right by your number. It was comical watching all the people suddenly jump up and frantically leap over the seats in order to keep their turn.

Of course, if there was someone approaching the window, the clerks would stop pushing the number button and serve the next person. There was one guy who approached the window while the numbers were frantically revolving. The clerk stopped moving the numbers and he paused. She called out to him (all of this was in Hebrew), “Why did you stop?” His answer? “Why did YOU stop, I am in 6 more numbers and I was getting ready!”

After a very quick and entertaining 15 minute break our number was up. As the clerk was processing our paperwork, she got a very important call on her personal and paused what she was doing for 3 or 4 minutes while she took the call.

How did I know it was an important call? Well, to an Israeli ALL personal calls are important and must be dealt with immediately, no matter what you are doing. Bank tellers, postal clerks, even the guy in the falafel store, all drop everything in order to take their personal calls.

On Erev Tisha B’av I had originally planned to be Menachem Avel for my sister’s in. However, I needed to be in the Yeshiva for a meeting, and the travel time made the trip to Haifa impractical that day. Since Friday would be spent entertaining all the kids and preparing for Shabbat, Sat. night would be too late and the Shiva ended on Sunday, I had no choice but to go to Haifa on Thursday, Tisha B’Av in the afternoon.

So, after a morning spent saying Kinot in one of the local shuls, I got a ride to the train station and took the train to Tel Aviv where I met my brother in law and nephew for a ride to Haifa.

My nephew just got his driver’s license. Interestingly, when a teenager gets their license for the first time (having passed written and driving exams), he cannot drive on his own for the first 3 months. All new drivers must be accompanied by an adult. This trip was a perfect time for him to get in a few hours of driving experience.

The drive up was uneventful. I expected to see rocket damage or empty streets. While the streets were certainly not filled with traffic/people, there were certainly many people out and about.

I remarked to my brother in law during the drive that there were many rockets that landed in the North the day before, and that we had to be alert. We discussed it at the shiva house as well, and they all commented that thankfully Tisha B’Av had been quiet.

There is a 1 connection train from Haifa to Beit Shemesh, and I wanted to get home, so at about 4 PM I headed out the door for a ride to the train station. Just as I reached the street, the air raid sirens sounded.

We quickly rushed into the house and stood by interior walls away from the windows. After a minute or two, the people on the Mirpeset (outdoor porch) reported that they had heard 4 booms. Since the event appeared to be over, we headed out the door again.

One of my sister’s relatives volunteered to drive and we headed off. In the middle of the ride, the sirens sounded again and we looked for some cover. The one thing they tell people is definitely NOT to stay inside a car during an event, so we looked for somewhere to stop and essentially hide.

The driver noticed that there was a tunnel underpass beneath the train tracks, so he quickly drove there for the protective cover. When we got there, we found 4 other cars had the same thought and we all waited there for a few uneventful minutes before we resumed the trip.

Although it was a little frightening to experience the warnings, I would say that the uncertainty of not knowing if there is a Katyusha about to land near you that is the worst part. It is such a random event, and the danger is not as bad as the anticipation.

The rest of my trip was uneventful, and I am on my way back to Beit Shemesh for the conclusion of the fast.

I just happened to glance out the train window and noticed what is clearly a military helicopter parked in a field off to the side. As we continued down the tracks and more helicopters and other equipment became visible, I realized that we were passing some type of military installation. Then I noticed a series of tents and other temporary structures and it dawned on me that this was not a regular base, but must be a temporary base/staging area for use during the current fighting.

It is astounding how quickly the country mobilized and the reservists all headed for where they needed to be. Although there is a lot of press coverage about the destruction in Lebanon and some coverage of the Israeli losses as well, within Israel there does not seem to be a panic about the dangers we face.

I know I say this often, but although it is certainly getting easier to notice, outside of Northern Israel the only real signs of war that we have are the missing reservists who have gone to fight, and the thousands of evacuees who have fled the constant shelling of their homes, taking up residence in schools, homes, hotels and just about anywhere that people can host them.


Although it is now several hours after the tzom and I had not intended to add more to this edition, I feel obliged to add a minor postscript of major significance. Upon my arrival home, I told Goldie about the 2 sets of warning sirens we had heard in Haifa. She told me that there had indeed been shelling at that time – not far from Haifa and that rockets had hit Acco, killing 4 people.

Very scary.