120
the war is (not) over
the war is over
When they announced on the news that the first three Israeli women hostages were about to be released, the streets of TelAviv emptied.
I walked on my way back from work… empty shops, empty malls, empty restaurants empty buses.
Everyone had gone home to watch it on TV, to see for themselves
Are they alive? Are they well? Is it really happening?
On the radio they said that they were on their way back, i saw on my phone the first images… hundreds of men with guns surrounding them just before they left the gaza strip
I walked to the Museum Square, renamed in the past year "the Hostage Square" the place where every Shabbat people meet with the hostage's families, supporting them and calling for their release.
Thousands were already there, waiting.
A One year and four months long wait
Then, they appeared on the huge screen,
Romi, Emily, Doron,… Alive
the crowd started clapping and crying, people hugging each other.
I stood there, I took a picture of their faces
relief, happiness… sadness. anxiety.
Sweet is always bitter here.
It’s never pure joy.
What about the rest of them? the 98 others hostages.
Why just three? Why not 10, 20, why not all of them?
what about the 2 babies among them… Why not release the babies first?
Are they alive?
I walked back home
Near Rabin square, two women were hugging, crying in front of a small screen, just there, in the middle of the sidewalk.
few minutes after I saw the first pictures of Romi with her mother,
and i cried too, standing there alone on the street
I felt their relief. We all did, the whole country.
later, for the first time in months i went to sleep, Just to sleep, Like everyone else. Like you. I went to bed without making any preparations for the next missile attack, without checking if the kids’ shoes were ready next to the door for when the sirens come. i just went into the bed. exhausted.
I woke up twice thinking an attack had started.
One time, it was a helicopter. The second, it was the cat throwing up.
The Last year was horrible
because of the war
because of the massacre on October 7th
because of the young soldiers falling every day…
But also because of the unbelievable scenes of people calling for the destruction of my country…chanting everywhere, on campuses in the US, England, on the streets of Paris, Amsterdam, Sydney, spitting on posters of abducted babies, drawing svvatikas on their faces.
from Cape town to Brussels I became the cancer of this world.
Even when the ayatollas in Tehran bombarded me with 300 ballistic missiles,
even when, for months, hezbolla shoot the north of israel, leaving towns in rubble ,
Even when drones and rockets from the houtis in yemen fall on our head every other night…
even then…we were to blame.
And I saw the "experts" full of hatred on shows like Piers Morgan’s,
"Panelists" talking like they knew something about where i live
I saw students shouting , “From the river to the sea,” with no clue about any river or any sea.
I saw the medhi hasan, cenk uygurs of this world vomiting on prime time, day after day after day, explaining that it was all because of me, my family, my friends my neighbors.
I saw the people calling for Israelis to go back to Poland…
when just 75 years ago, in Poland, people were calling for us to go back to where we came from.
i saw all the talks, and shows, and it was almost never about 2 hosts acknowledging the suffering of each other, thinking about solutions, about peace, about the people… on both sides
Johana my Palestinian friend from Munich reached me after every attack
-are you ok. how are the kids? and we spoke 2,3 time during the last year
I talk with many friends from France, the states.. , with my family
and i got messages from people in Iran, sending their love and care,
I needed it so much, and it gave me strength,
but the tsunami of hate directed at our small country almost got me drowned
and after a year and four months,
471days, of this madness, I’m sad.
sad and tired.
I hope for ALL the hostages to come home,
i hope for the people of Gaza to rebuild and to have a good life.
I hope for my country to heal
I hope for peace.
I’m optimistic… but it's more like a reflex, not a real belief. i m forcing myself, it s like i want to believe
The war is over,
I hope.
I hope so much.
—
in the picture,
The thousand of ppl yesterday in telaviv waiting for Romi, Doron, Emily to get back home
When they announced on the news that the first three Israeli women hostages were about to be released, the streets of TelAviv emptied.
I walked on my way back from work… empty shops, empty malls, empty restaurants empty buses.
Everyone had gone home to watch it on TV, to see for themselves
Are they alive? Are they well? Is it really happening?
On the radio they said that they were on their way back, i saw on my phone the first images… hundreds of men with guns surrounding them just before they left the gaza strip
I walked to the Museum Square, renamed in the past year "the Hostage Square" the place where every Shabbat people meet with the hostage's families, supporting them and calling for their release.
Thousands were already there, waiting.
A One year and four months long wait
Then, they appeared on the huge screen,
Romi, Emily, Doron,… Alive
the crowd started clapping and crying, people hugging each other.
I stood there, I took a picture of their faces
relief, happiness… sadness. anxiety.
Sweet is always bitter here.
It’s never pure joy.
What about the rest of them? the 98 others hostages.
Why just three? Why not 10, 20, why not all of them?
what about the 2 babies among them… Why not release the babies first?
Are they alive?
I walked back home
Near Rabin square, two women were hugging, crying in front of a small screen, just there, in the middle of the sidewalk.
few minutes after I saw the first pictures of Romi with her mother,
and i cried too, standing there alone on the street
I felt their relief. We all did, the whole country.
later, for the first time in months i went to sleep, Just to sleep, Like everyone else. Like you. I went to bed without making any preparations for the next missile attack, without checking if the kids’ shoes were ready next to the door for when the sirens come. i just went into the bed. exhausted.
I woke up twice thinking an attack had started.
One time, it was a helicopter. The second, it was the cat throwing up.
The Last year was horrible
because of the war
because of the massacre on October 7th
because of the young soldiers falling every day…
But also because of the unbelievable scenes of people calling for the destruction of my country…chanting everywhere, on campuses in the US, England, on the streets of Paris, Amsterdam, Sydney, spitting on posters of abducted babies, drawing svvatikas on their faces.
from Cape town to Brussels I became the cancer of this world.
Even when the ayatollas in Tehran bombarded me with 300 ballistic missiles,
even when, for months, hezbolla shoot the north of israel, leaving towns in rubble ,
Even when drones and rockets from the houtis in yemen fall on our head every other night…
even then…we were to blame.
And I saw the "experts" full of hatred on shows like Piers Morgan’s,
"Panelists" talking like they knew something about where i live
I saw students shouting , “From the river to the sea,” with no clue about any river or any sea.
I saw the medhi hasan, cenk uygurs of this world vomiting on prime time, day after day after day, explaining that it was all because of me, my family, my friends my neighbors.
I saw the people calling for Israelis to go back to Poland…
when just 75 years ago, in Poland, people were calling for us to go back to where we came from.
i saw all the talks, and shows, and it was almost never about 2 hosts acknowledging the suffering of each other, thinking about solutions, about peace, about the people… on both sides
Johana my Palestinian friend from Munich reached me after every attack
-are you ok. how are the kids? and we spoke 2,3 time during the last year
I talk with many friends from France, the states.. , with my family
and i got messages from people in Iran, sending their love and care,
I needed it so much, and it gave me strength,
but the tsunami of hate directed at our small country almost got me drowned
and after a year and four months,
471days, of this madness, I’m sad.
sad and tired.
I hope for ALL the hostages to come home,
i hope for the people of Gaza to rebuild and to have a good life.
I hope for my country to heal
I hope for peace.
I’m optimistic… but it's more like a reflex, not a real belief. i m forcing myself, it s like i want to believe
The war is over,
I hope.
I hope so much.
—
in the picture,
The thousand of ppl yesterday in telaviv waiting for Romi, Doron, Emily to get back home
