B"H

SEWING THE SEEDS OF PTSD

Tuesday, September 9th

Today felt weird & icky & just *not safe*. Very much like the day of the #2 bus bombing in Me'ah She'arim. I walked to the Rova (Jewish Quarter of the Old City) early this afternoon to pray. There were *many* many more soldiers & police out today. They must have some intelligence that someone is walking around with explosives today. OY. I'm used to guns & flashing lights & x-rays & barricades & UN vehicles everywhere, but now it was like we were at war & being invaded...which I guess we are. They were stopping & checking all of the cars moving in or out of the city, not just Arab-owned cars or cars with Palestinian license plates - EVERYONE. They were interviewing each person in every car one at a time & searching everything & everyone - & in a city of, what? Half a million people? That's an enormous undertaking. I'm so glad I walk.
As I crossed Qeren Hayesod & spied a Palestinian flag air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror of a white Subaru that sped by me...
I strolled through The Sultan's pool/Hell on my way between Yemim Moshe & the Rova & up the corridor of gift shops...did you know they have souvenir shops in Hell also? :) This is quite a place!
I went through the Armenian Quarter to buy a little present for Kyla, a Muslim friend of Joel's & soon mine as well, hopefully. I would've liked to go through the Shuk, but it's just such a hassle for a blonde woman to enter there alone (at my own risk!) & nobody I know will go with me. So sad.
I'd seen this beautiful little ceramic tile covered in Arabic writing, so I brought it to the shop owner & asked to buy it. "What does it say?" I enquired. As I do Arabic calligraphy, but do not, in fact, *read* Arabic, I thought I ought to know exactly what I was buying for my friend. For all I knew, it mught be a barrage of insults to tourists, or anti-Jewish or *something* that would've rendered a meanigless gift for me to give to her.
"It's the Lord's Prayer."
"Ah."
I chose out something else for her :)
The Kotel was *not* blocked off today, so thank G@d I could commune with the glowing stones. "My spot" was even free! I stood thoughtfully with my hands on the warm rock & breathed consciously, gathering the thoughts of my heart so I could bring them to HaShem with greater intention, & hopefully feel some relief from my current fears. I wept.
I strolled back to Yafo - as I passed through the Gate, I spied an Arab woman & her daughter (I assume) crouched under the shade of a tree. The child looked physically to be about 3, but the look on her face made her seem 40. The woman put out her hand & began gently whispering to me in Arabic. She may have only been my age, or a bit older, but her eyes looked a century old. I opened my wallet & poured out all my change, whatever it was, & handed it to her little girl. She placed a hand over her heart & bowed her head, quietly speaking her blessings (?) & gratitude (?) as she extended the other out to me in what seemd like a benediction. I was so touched, I just bowed respectfully back to her & smiled, heading on. I didn't even remember how to say "salaam" to her, I was so moved...
I marched up Ben Yehudah& was encountered by a Charedi man with his tedaqah (charity) box & little red threads & charms he was ready to exchange for a few sheqels. He kept calling to me, "Giveret! Giveret! (Ma'am!) tzedaqah!"
I raised my hand against him & said sorry, that I didn't have - & I really didn't!
"It's a mitzvah!" he called after me. I ignored him. What was I supposed to do? Tell him I'd just given all my coins to an Arab woman?
As I was crossing the street by Moulin, marijuana smoke wafted by - smells like Vancouver...
I spent 2 hours with my sofer today - letters, letters, letters - he re-cut nib - he said I was doing really well, doing excellent - he's still concerned about time frame - but he's letting me move onto words now & not just lines of letters & letter combos. All this as we learned & listened to Chinese lullabyes. He mentioned that perhaps we could get pre-scored klaf - he also teased me about the particular kulmus I was using & how it had become my favorite. "You've grown beyond the quill & have to learn how to let go..."
The Doar (post office) was a circus - after going through the usual security check & bag search & body search & metal detector, I was in a line-up being delayed by a Mexican woman wanting to mail several huge boxes back home. The tellers & she were working back & forth in Hebrew-Spanish-English :) as none of them spoke the same language very well. The one man taking care of her would exclaim each time she co-operated: "Halleluyah! - Barukh HaShem!"
I made dinner & cooled off. I need the air conditioner on practically 24/7.
I went to sleep at 8pm as I was exhausted from being outside in the heat - it was 11:20 when I awoke to sirens & helicopters. I felt sick immediately. I knew something *really* horrible had happened & I could tell it was close. I really needed to know where the pigu'ah was, because sitting inside surrounded by all these scary noises was too much. I got onto ICQ to ask my friends - what's going on? I didn't know if it was really safe to go outside. Joel wasn't at home, so I left a message with his housemate to let him know that I was ok. It was making me crazy to just sit there & not know what was going on or where it was. I just couldn't sit there with all the screaming sirens & terse voices barking out instructions over megaphones. My friends on ICQ told me to stay inside or to go to my sofer's. They were just worried about me & wanted to make sure I was safe. But I hurried out to the main street anyway. My arms were folded hard & stiff in front of my chest as though it were freezing out, but of course it wasn't. I was just afraid of what I might find. I could feel that only making the choice to witness this horror would be a life-changing experience for me & I didn't know how it would affect me. I wonder if this is how Mum felt during WW2. It was just as I'd feared. There were masses of people - every kind of Jew, tons of emergency crews, cel phones, flashing lights making the scene like daylight & the road was chockerblock FULL of people as far as I could see from north to south. I could see it was a block south - didn't go look any closer as I don't need to be a voyeur when people are murdered - I didn't want to *see*. I could barely breathe. I just wanted to know if it was really out there on the street. I didn't go any closer. I came back in, weepy, & called Mum.
I wanted to make sure I could tell her I was ok before she heard about it. I don't want her to worry.
I turned on the news. It was Cafe Hillel that was hit by the bomb. I didn't want to see the pictures of medics gathering body parts - pieces of innocent people who'd been torn apart by the explosion. Knowing it was my favorite local coffee joint was enough. It was the coolest place & my friends & I used to hang out there on the patio. My heart & my guts felt stilled & heavy.
The scene here, even though I didn't "go look", is unbelieveable & it was still life-changing to approach it. I feel sick. I'm going to say tehilim. & weep. I hope my sofer & his family are ok. I'll be up all night. It's too noisy outside my flat & inside my heart to sleep.
"Melekh chaya l'almaya y'mageyn am l'hon m'shacharin." - May The King who lives eternally shield his people who pray to Him. From Yetziv Pisgam.