The Power of the Written Word

The power of the written word By Shifra Shomron When I autograph my novel Grains of Sand: The Fall of Neve Dekalim, I sign it: "Beyond time and beyond location - into my Gush Katif." It's now nearly nine years since the expulsion from Gush Katif, and I hope readers will be able to see and feel what Gush Katif residents experienced; during the years of beauty, the shadow of Arab terror and the stuggle against the disengagement. Interwoven are themes of family, love of nature, schooldays, the importance of community, the value of the individual, and facing one's fears.

Liane Chsherbakov was a young child living with her family in Ashdod during the expulsion. She recently read Grains of Sand: The Fall of Neve Dekalim. In this book review, she explains how the current security situation as well as her university studies help her connect to Gush Katif.

Another point of view
By Liane Chsherbakov

I was a little girl, only nine years old and in fourth grade, when The Disengagement happened. So at 18 I don’t remember it well. I remember always hearing about it on the news. At the time, as well as throughout my studies, school teachers seldom spoke about it. I never thought about The Disengagement since it wasn’t close to me. I hadn’t ever been to Gush Katif, didn’t know anyone living there, and never thought about it.

I understood from the media, television and news that The Disengagement was for the good of the people living there. I saw the event like it was a road leading to peace especially since the media reported over and over again: the people of Gush Katif are getting good conditions. I never gave any thought about how the people living there felt, what the youth and kids my own age were going through or how I would feel if it happened to me.

Reading Grains Of Sand The Fall Of Neve Dekalim as an 18 years old made me see and understand the settlers’ perspective. This was an entirely new point of view for me to consider. It made me think and question. The book is told through the life of Efrat, a teenager who tries to keep her routine normal. Efrat has to deal with things that a teenager shouldn’t have to like struggling with her own government to protect her.

Thanks to this book I could enter and experience what life was like there. I connected with Efrat worrying about her test grades and studying for the bagruts. I could relate to her being frightened from projectiles because here in Ashdod we’ve also been hit by rockets – and I had to take tests and study at school, run to the bomb shelter room with all this happening around me, too. This was after The Disengagement. Where was the peace I was led to believe in?

Now that I’m studying communications at the university I am more aware of how the media affects people's opinion. The media produces a reality. The book related to my studies, as it shows the difference between the way I remember the disengagement from the media images, based on the government orders, and how the girl from the book describes the event. It's important to hear more than one side of a story.

I don’t read books often. In fact, Grains Of Sand The Fall Of Neve Dekalim is the first novel I’ve read in English. It has motivated me to read more. It wasn’t just interesting; it helped me practice my English skills. It’s written in simple language that’s nice to read.

I definitely recommend reading Grains Of Sand The Fall Of Neve Dekalim. With our political situations, an event like the Disengagement could happen again. We have to hear the side of the victim and not only the official government (mis)information, like I did before reading this book.

Life Under Fire is No Way to Live

Life Under Fire is No Way to Live
Ashdod, Israel - March 2012
by Sara L. Shomron


The beautiful and bustling coastal city of Ashdod had all but come to a screeching halt recently. Stores and outdoor cafes in the commercial center that remained open mid-afternoon had nary a customer. Ashdod’s central bus station usually filled with foot traffic and noise was eerily skeletal and quiet.

Midday Ashdod. Traffic was barely noticeable. Few people were on the streets enjoying the lovely weather. One of my students pointed out that he was, for the very first time, able to immediately find parking and arrive at class on time – even a tad early. Certainly a silver lining to the security situation.

What is it like to live under fire? How are people coping? Ever aware that post traumatic stress can be minimized if people exposed to traumatic experiences and events immediately express themselves, I asked my adult students to share their thoughts.

Picture yourself residing in a high-rise apartment; fourth floor; no elevator; the bomb shelter is in the basement. You’re elderly or perhaps have young ones underfoot or are a physically challenged person. You might be in the shower or bath when suddenly you hear the blaring siren alerting you of the incoming rocket projectile(s). You have only 45 seconds in which to seek cover. You must have the presence of mind to decide where to seek cover. The stairwell? An interior room? Or perhaps you’ll race down the flights of stairs to join those ahead of you calling you in a state of panic, to hurry – as one of my students did. He quickly took several stairs at a time challenging himself to take more stairs each time he rushed downstairs to the protected area. In the process of accomplishing five stairs at a time his new iPod, an item he described as a personal appendage, flew from his hand shattering the screen. A war casualty not to make light of it. He mused that he needs a fireman pole.

And what of those with young children? Parent and child(ren) alike are afraid to go out to the park, ride a bike, or roller blade.A student with toddlers said her four year old son wants to know the meaning of the siren. An age appropriate explanation was given and now he’s terrified to go outside. How many others? Another student rhetorically asked how she, with two youngsters, could adequately protect her children and herself outdoors. While yet another student with older children said her children were angry with her because she ran to the balcony to watch the people running for shelter and see the plume of smoke from the Iron Dome in action. She related how a girl was in the street running for cover with a young boy in hand when the boy fell. An oncoming car saw the child in the road and squealed to an abrupt stop as a group of men rushing out from the pre-fab synagogue quickly picked up the child and carried him to a nearby shelter.

And public transportation? “Open the bus doors- I must get off the bus – I have a baby to bring into this world” a pregnant student shouted at the bus driver whose doors weren’t responding. She was the only passenger on the bus when the siren blared – and she was shaking with fright. The bus had pulled to the side of the road – but the doors wouldn’t open. Finally the doors opened and the student ran for cover in a nearby building. Whenever outdoors, her eyes scan the area in search of a protected area were it to be suddenly needed.

And while driving? One student related that he was on the Tel Aviv southbound highway when a car suddenly pulled over to the side of the road. He opened his window and like others behind him, pulled over to the shoulder. It turned out there wasn’t a siren; the driver in the front car had merely pulled over. Other students weren’t clear how to proceed on the road saying traffic continued and it was impossible to pull over to the shoulder though one student shared how she chose to step on the gas and drive through a red light.

Lastly, students told of hospitality offered them by family and friends living in other parts of the country. While they were most appreciative they were unanimous that their life must continue as normal – or as normal as possible given the circumstances. They have their work, their friends, their lives to live and wouldn’t consider leaving Ashdod.

Their conclusion: life under fire is no way to live.