Cautious Optimism
Students go on with their hires amid lessening of war clouds.
RACHEL KOHN
Special to the Jewish News
majority of people in Tammy's area do not believe
Israel will be affected by this war.
"In the last war, yes, people were nervous, but they
don't take seriously what's going on now," she says.
After all the procrastination and "this week the war
will start — no, next week — no, the next," Israelis
stopped expecting anything to happen to them.
Alon Shvut, Israel
tanding in his back yard on a cold and
cloudless spring day, looking out at the
rolling hills of the Gush — the region
south of Jerusalem that includes many
longstanding settlements, • such as Efrat and Ne've
Keeping Calm
Daniel — Rav Menachem addresses his visiting
Taxi driver and seventh-generation Israeli Menashe
students, young women from Michlelet Orot in
Simcha does not rely on the security of his sur-
Elkana.
As they take in the panoramic view, some
girls imagine what it would be like to see
missiles falling out of that same clear blue
sky. In the back of everyone's mind these
days is the war against Iraq. Now that it
finally began, native Israelis and foreign-born
students alike are sitting back, twiddling
their thumbs (some more nervously than
others) and waiting for it to end already.
Whether Israel will be attacked by Iraq
during the current international conflict or
manage to remain an innocent bystander
remains to be seen. Rav Menachem, who
requested that his last name not be pub-
lished, responds to the question of the Iraqi
threat with a quirky line, "I teach prophecy,
but I'm not a prophet."
Even so, Rav Menachem points out that
he does not bring his gas mask to class when
he teaches at Orot.
Like most of his neighbors, Rav Menachern
feels especially secure because of his location;
the Gush has an equal mix of Israeli settle-
ments and Arab villages. Areas with a large
Arab. population, like the Gush and the West
Bank, are considered less of a target for a mis-
sile attack than the large coastal cities whose
population is mostly Jewish.
Tammy Cohen, a 21-year-old college stu-
dent from the coastal city of Kiryat Yam,
feels a little less safe there. Kiryat Yam is
adjacent to Haifa, a sprawling city that con-
tains an oil refinery.
"If even one missile strikes the refinery —
In Detroit, children carry lunchboxes to school; in Elkana,
in general, people are scared of even lighting
they carry gas masks.
a match over there," she says. "If a missile
fell, the destruction would be awful."
roundings but on the strength of the Israeli Defense
Tammy says that next to Tel Aviv, Haifa is consid-
Forces and the weakness of Saddam's weaponry.
ered the most dangerous place to be during a war.
"Israel is a great and strong country; Saddam
During the. Gulf War, a missile almost struck the
does not have the guts to attack it," says Menashe,
refinery; because of high winds, it missed its target
who lives in the city of Modi'in in central Israel.
by a few hundred meters and hit a mall instead.
"He knows that Israel would respond with uncon-
Though some are leaving the area, the vast
ventional warfare; bombs and gases. No one is
Rachel Kohn of West Bloomfield, a 2002 graduate of gassing us. Even if Saddam sent one missile, two,
five, or a hundred, it would just be a hole here, a
Yeshivat Akiva in Southfield, is studying in Israel this
hole there," he says, gesturing to the passing fields
school year.
4/11
2003
26
and olive groves as he cruises confidently on the
highway.
Regardless of their location, most Israelis are cer-
tain this war will come to an end before Israel is
given any reason to get involved. Many Americans
studying in Israel this year feel the same way.
Ethan Cohen graduated from Yeshivat Akiva in
Southfield last year and is attending Yeshivat
HaKotel in Jerusalem. His parents, Jane and Dr.
Seth Cohen, live in Southfield. "The first day or
two [of the war]," he says, "I was like, 'OK, this
might be a bit scary,' but in Jerusalem, there's such
a little chance of getting hit, and then the United
States took out the forces in western Iraq."
On March 19, the last public announcement
regarding the war was made; the level of alert was
raised and people were instructed to keep a sealed
room ready and their gas masks on hand at all times.
The little brown gas mask boxes with their black plas-
tic carrying straps are seen everywhere: at the mall, by
the Kotel, on the school bus. Ethan describes having a
gas mask as "a real Israeli experience."
Though his parents gave him the option of corn-
ing home early, Ethan wants to stay in Israel for the
duration of the year. "It never -got to a point where
I couldn't do what I came here to do," he says.
Dark Memories
Talya Schostak, daughter of Dorit and Tzvi Schostak
of Southfield and another Akiva graduate, studies at
Migdal Ohz in the Gush. Like Ethan, Talya was
given the opportunity to stay home in Detroit —
she came in for a visit just three days before the war
broke out — but chose to return to Israel.
"I would have felt very weird staying in America
while the war is going on," she says.
As the level of alert here rose higher and higher,
Talya, who has lived most of her life in Israel, "got
a little worried. Memories came back to me of the
first Gulf War, first grade; it wasn't fun."
In addition to toting her gas mask around when
she travels, Talya set up a sealed room in her fami-
ly's Jerusalem apartment.
"I made it a big joke, but underneath I was pret-
ty freaked out about it," she says. "Humor is what
saves you from going insane in these situations. It's
how you deal with it."
Talya says she feels safe and carries her gas mask
around more to soothe her parents' concerns than
because of any personal fear.
"I hope nothing will happen here," she says, "but
I don't think anything will, especially after the
war's been going on for so long.
As the war drags on and fear of the Iraqi threat
grows weaker by the day, most of Israel agrees with-
Ethan and Talya that' it doesn't seem like there's
anything really to worry about insofar as an Iraqi
attack. ❑
"