y Ila • Top: Drawn by the affordable housing and jobs, Soviet immigrants have settled in underdeveloped areas like Tel Teomim in the Bet Shean Valley. The typical home in Jerusalem costs between $100,000 and $150,000. Most Soviet olim arrive in Israel with just a few dollars. Above: Observant and secular Jews battled at length over this community center pool, which permitted mixed swimming. 30 FRIDAY, MAY 10, 1991 says is crucial to Israeli security. Israeli guards stand at the entry point to the West Bank. They wear heavy jackets even amid this hamsin, heat wave. The jackets will protect them against frequent attacks of knife-wielding Palestinians. West Bank Palestinian cities are now cordoned off by sheets of heavy metal to stop rock throwers. Roads are dusty and barren. Shops are closed; outside sit Arabs in kaffiahs, playing sheishbaish, backgammon. Beside them: steaming cups of coffee with cardamom. "You know what their favorite cry is these days?" asks an Israeli, a former member of the Israel De- fense Forces. "Slaughter the Jews." Two days later, a group of Israeli children in Jerusa- lem chase after an elderly Arab. He has a shack in Ramot Gimmel, a Jerusa- lem suburb, where he works full-time as a guard. It is Shabbat. The man walks, alone, to his shack. About 20 children run after him. They throw stones and bits- of dirt. They taunt and jeer at him. Moments later, the Arab emerges from his shack. He is wearing a long kaffiah and carries a cane. He turns to the leader of the pack, an 8-year-old boy in a white shirt. "Why, children, why?" he asks over and over and over again. "Why?" alestinians are not the only targets of Israeli anger these days. In the aftermath of the war, Israeli residents have little positive to say about U.S. Jewry. Though living thousands of miles away, they refuse to give their names if they are to speak openly. It just isn't done, publicly criticizing the source of such desperately needed dollars. "We are angry," says Yossi, who lives in Jerusalem. "We felt abandoned by you American Jews (during the Gulf War). Soviet ohm came. Sometimes, their planes ar- rived the same day Scuds were falling near Tel Aviv. The planes would have to circle and circle until it was safe to land. "What hypocrisy," he says. "You had Soviet Jews come all the time, but you your- selves wouldn't come even for a one-week solidarity p ■ A young Soviet immigrant in Detroit's sister city, Yavne. "They come as capitalists, not Zionists." mission. We needed you bad- ly. I never thought Ameri- can Jews were such cow- ards." "We are one," he says laughing, quoting the United Jewish Appeal's famous slogan. "Yeah, right." A Tel Aviv resident, Chana, recalls the Ameri- can rabbi who came for one day to Israel not long after the war began. He got his gas mask and waited for the air-raid siren. It came several hours after he arrived. "He left the next day," Chana says. "But mean- while, he kept talking about `solidarity' and how he had `gone through it all' with us. Maybe this washed well with his congregants, but for us, the attacks were not some game and not a one- day event. We live with bat- tles every day." "American Jews? To tell you the truth, I can't stand them;' said Meir, who works with a Tel-Aviv based travel agency. "They come here with their money, loads of it, and they dedicate some center or park and put their name on it and expect us to fall all over ourselves with gratitude. "Then they go back to their expensive homes and leave us here to handle the real issues, like finding jobs for all these Soviet Jews and dealing with the Arabs. Do me a favor, American Jews, stop patting yourselves on the back. If you really care about Israel, come live here." Robert Aronson, executive director of the Detroit