Rising junior Naomi Ravick spent five weeks in Israel during the Israel-Gaza conflict. She was there from July 2 to Aug. 7 on a program with the youth movement Habonim Dror, a labor Zionist socialist movement. Ravick is blogging for the Black & White about her experience.
Summer nights in the Israeli desert are beautiful: the stars are out and there are almost no bugs. But one night, this feeling of serenity was disrupted by a loud alarm—like the ring of an ambulance siren, but louder and with a different rhythm. Suddenly, one of our Israeli counselors began ushering us inside, assuring us that nothing was wrong.
Still in Week One of our trip, I was confused and disoriented by this bomb alarm. I knew that three Israeli boys had been kidnapped and some Israeli citizens had retaliated. I knew that Hamas, the Palestinian militant Islamic organization, was launching missiles from Gaza into the southern parts of Israel and that the bomb threats were to be taken seriously.
Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) soldiers were running and laughing, gesturing for us to follow them. We ran alongside them down many flights of stairs into a bomb shelter. I waited in a dark hallway with the 116 other kids from my program and a group of IDF soldiers.
Meanwhile, the soldiers were laughing and assuring us that everything would be okay as we stared wide-eyed into a large, dark room filled with toys and small desks. The room was buzzing with soft chatter, while some members of my group were whimpering in fear. I tried to comfort friends while grasping the situation myself.
We all sat on the floor in the large room as the head of our program assured us that nothing was wrong; we were just waiting for the ‘okay’ from our situation room. I was sitting with my friends in a small circle on the floor, waiting in silence for a seeming eternity.
Finally after five minutes, we were let out and went upstairs to continue our activity. Everyone was understandably shaken. We walked upstairs solemn-faced and silent, starkly different from the usual laughter and joking atmosphere that characterized much of the trip.
We finished the day’s program and went to bed. The next morning, everyone was talking about the bomb shelter. It turned out to just be a security precaution for a bomb miles away in Jerusalem.
Though I left Israel without having to go into another bomb shelter, I will never forget the feeling of knowing that outside of that room were the realities of war.
