So it’s the weekend. It means that this week is over. And maybe this week there will be school.

This week started for me in a normal school atmosphere. I’ve been to Hadera for six days. Six days in which I’ve been out of Ashkelon, but Ashkelon stayed inside me. News, phone calls, anxieties…  Some really not pleasant recalls of the fact that even if I ran away, there’s still a war in the shout. And I missed home. So Tuesday evening I already got home.

When I came back I got not such a good welcoming. An alarm. Instinctively I dragged myself and my dog to the shelter, and closed the door. .. While I was waiting for the explosion sound, as I always do, I was thinking… Why do I get into the shelter anyway? (to protect myself). From what?? (From a direct hit on my house).

And then it hit me.

Every single alarm, one of those rockets could just land on my house, get explode in it, destroy every memory of my life. Destroy every chance for me to move on, destroy everything I’ve built. Wreck my stability and just break me. And then stupid thoughts of staying outside the shelter gone through my head, because why should I even protect myself while my home is exposed?  Really fast sobering-up made me think logically, and get reminded of the fact that everything material has no meaning.

And I just wanted to go back to the silence of Hadera, to relaxation, to the calmness compared to what’s going on here. On Wednesday it hit me again. A Grad rocket landed on my street. It already got really close for several times… But it’s the first time it hits that close. On my street.

Yesterday I’ve already dragged myself out of town, because for how long can I stay home doing nothing? I had so much fun. I really enjoyed myself despite of the horrible night I’ve been through, including alarms in the middle of the night, including not even a minute of sleeping because even when you fall asleep you need to keep one ear open in case of a need to run in the middle of the night. When I came back home I just cracked. The number of the people who got killed in Gaza got to 800, a number I just can’t get. Soldiers are getting killed. Hundreds of soldiers are fighting in this right moment for me. For my feeling of security. They risk their lives so I won’t have to risk mine. In one hand it’s warming my heart and I feel I want to hug every single one of them, thank them. In the other hand, I want to get them out of there. Because there’s no need… I’m not hurt yet, and what are the chances I will? Leave it, it’s not so bad, I’ll get over the alarms. I’ll sleep a little less. I can even get used to this and go to school… What are the chances a rocket will hit the school anyway?

The main goal is that this whole crazy deal will over, and no more people will get hurt. But it just won’t stop.

Shabbat shalom and a quiet weekend.

I wish this whole think will over soon. 

Hello blog readers!

Today, the 1.1.09 is a special day, the first day of 2009. The day started of in a very good way, well I would say a good way. Until 11 o’clock there were no missiles, no sirens, complete quiet. Another thing that made my morning was a video from Kasie Rosenberg that made me feel happy and warmed my heart and soul. The video was attached to my wall on Facebook, and in the video Kasie and her friend tell me to keep safe and are interested in my wellbeing. Someone I haven’t spoken to in a long time, is interested in my wellbeing and has read my blog? Mine! Yes, yes mine! It took me a few minutes to retain the information that…

The post written by Oz from Ashkelon, reached all the way to the city of Baltimore, this moved me to tears, a wave of tears washed over me and I couldn’t stop it. I just watched the moving video again and again. I see the girls in the background making noise and having fun, routine, normal routine. She’s in America in her routine and her reality and I’m here in the shelter writing, long live the small difference.

So, after the morning experience, and the good start to the morning of 2009, how can you begin the morning without a siren. Well, at 12:30 the siren goes off, go down to the protective shelter room, a routine I have grown used to, and I think that a couple more days like this and I’ll just go insane. The “routine” that we’ve gotten into is really getting on my nerves, I haven’t set foot out of the house since Sunday, a huge frustration. But I’m looking at the glass half full; I’m nurturing my “baby”, this great and meaningful blog. And really every second I put in and improve, design the blog and give of myself is worth it. Worth it when I see the articles, the radio shows that I’m invited to and they fill me with great satisfaction and pride. Especially seeing Kasies video made my day and I think that it’s another climax point the blog has reached, overseas into the homes of American kids and has managed to change their life even in the slightest way- I’ve done my part.

I can check that off the list in my diary, “crossed the country borders”, well I’ve crossed it off anyway. I think that there are many more places that we still need to conquer. Ha ha this post is half optimistic, half not. Depends on which way you read the post, from right to left or from left to right ha ha…

We’re getting back into the daily routine, again missiles falling but I’ve had enough of telling about that, it takes the fun out of writing, this time I’ll write about the high points of the day. At 1pm I got a phone call from the site “Ashkelonim” that wants to interview me about the blog. I’ve told you this blog is already a part of me, officially anyway.

And the rest of the day, about the bombings and missiles, I’m sure some of you already saw on television. To add depression and sorrow to such a happy and optimistic blog, n-o w-a-y!! I like to say- So let’s just skip those parts till we get to these moments, the moments when I write to you and appeal to your hearts.

I think this is the appropriate place to write: “how a blog is born…like a baby, at first it hurts and then rolls out and everyone’s happy, and oh how nice, he walks on his own, how a blog is born like a b-a-b-y!” (* well known Hebrew children’s song “How a Song is Born” *). I feel like my head is in the clouds in these moments, and I think that you all (my readers) deserve a lot of love and appreciation. Look what you’ve achieved- that I don’t care about the Grad missiles, that all I’m interested in and dealing with is the blog. You, my readers and all whoever is involved in this also deserve a big round of applause; I’m sitting here applauding you all. To all of you that are passing on the message about the blog, are telling the story, that are putting it in there status, are joining the group (on Facebook). Thanks to all of you, I’m finding it easier, and dealing with the reality is easier, because I’m focused on the blog. Keep on being so amazing, because without you I wouldn’t be having so much fun!

Love you guys and may we all have a fun and quiet weekend!

Yesterday, around nine o’clock in the evening, imagine you’re having a quiet night. After a day without alarms and sirens, thinking you’re going for a long tiring day at school.

And then…you hear a siren, one that recently we hear once a day, not very frequently and usually a false alarm. You get in the shelter with mom, god knows where dad is now… waiting for the siren to end so that you can find out it fell in north Ashkelon… but then you hear a boom.

The first thing you think is- where’s dad, maybe one of my friends was hurt…was someone killed?

You go on the internet and validate your suspicions and worries- someone was killed and as a mater of fact a Grad missile did fall in Ashdod…pretty much in the center, on a bus station.

The lines were down, we can’t locate dad.

Relatives barely managed to call…because the lines were down.

Then we hear dad get home, he’s fine.

But the fact that dad is fine doesn’t mean someone else is fine.

Seven injured, one dead and many that are in shock.

Just as you think it’s over, about half an hour after, when you’re on your seventh dream about winning the lottery, the siren goes off…while you’re sleeping.

That’s basically what a non-typical day in Ashdod sounds like.

Today, my aunt has agreed to have me stay with her in Rishon Letzion, so I’m here now.

But that didn’t prevent me from hearing that another Grad missile fell in Ashdod around an hour and a half ago- siren, boom…this time I heard it from others, my friends.

The friends that are always supportive and I support them…that yesterday had said that they would go far from Ashdod if another Kassam (missile) fell…so the time has come.

So goodbye friends…see you after the war <3

“The IDF has entered Gaza”- the main headline on all the news broadcasts since last night.

Morning- a new day, a quiet day but it starts off exactly the same way as the last 7 days have- news. “30 injured mildly and 2 injured badly but are stable” and straight after that “a Grad missile landed in Shderot, a woman was mildly injured”. A Grad missile?! Shderot?! Thousands of questions, no answers- there is fear, great fear… if a Grad missile that has a range of 20 km landed in Shderot, so there is a big chance that a Katusha (missile) that has a range of 40 km could land on Ashkelon, missiles that up until now have been landing on Ashdod and Ber-Sheva.

We mustn’t relax now, there is still a risk, a big risk… for the past week we haven’t left the house, only if we really have to, and even then every second you’re out you’re looking for a protective area or shelter, just in case… dozens of calls a day with offers to come and stay up north and in the central region- “no thanks, I’m staying here for now!”- the same answer to everyone. Sorrow, I remember the past, last year- 10^th grade, and I’m sorry for every moment, regreting the fact that in the 60 hours community service project, I wasted all 60 hours on training in sports instead of volunteering at Mad”a (the red cross) – a place I could be helping out now, when it’s most needed…

It’s hard here, war… a tense atmosphere that is mixed with feelings of longing and worrying, worrying for the soldiers, some of whom really feel like older brothers to me, just hoping that they will return home safely…

There are many more things about the war that haven’t been told yet, like all the hacking the Hamas have arranged on the internet- ICQ, messenger, websites, servers, e-mails etc’…everything will be told…

That’s it for now, I’m Andree Boktay, 17 years old from Ashkelon- a teenage boy that is living in a reality under the missiles and is worried for the soldiers

Hello, my name is Lior and I’m 15 years old from Be’er Sheva.

I’d heard of this website a few days ago. I started reading the experiences described here and I was glad that I wasn’t the one going through them.

So up until a few hours ago that was true. Around 8:50 there was a siren (the sound rising and falling).

Actually, I didn’t even hear anything and I didn’t think it would reach us here, so I had no worries.

I was watching a television show and suddenly my mom called me: “Lior, Lior…”

 My name is Nofar Huri, 17 and half years old from Beer Sheva, Israel.

A new year begins today – year 2009. First of all I wish everyone a good year, quiet and pleasant!!!

It is such a pity that the New Year begins like that, under the shadow of the Kassam missiles and the war. Tonight, at midnight, while people all over the world will be shooting fireworks, the Hammas will shoot more Kassam missiles on us. I am sorry (for myself) for being so pessimistic, but this is what we are used to, and I wish we weren’t so used to it.

I really hope that the year 2009 will be better, and mainly calmer. And who knows, there might even be some good surprises…

Shani Nakash, 14, Sderot

Shani Nakash ,14 years old,Sderot

Between each run to the shelter I manager to do numerous things.

I succeed in failed steps to run, every time I hear the sirens I try with extreme difficulties to get out of my warm bed and finally finish the marathon while I slip and fall on the floor. To the shelter, turn off my beeper which has already gave me a headache and fall to the bed.

All this for what? To secure myself that the “Kasam” won’t harm me

It’s sad that this is the way I need to spend my day, instead of getting bored in school with all my friends. Here in the Kibutz we experience this daily, for a few years now but not as bad as it is now, enough to understand that we have had it. Had it and know that something has to be done.

I don’t want to wake up again with the “Color Red ” sirens only to find out it’s 8am and I am here because there is no school again.

People are leaving hysterically to the north of the country and whoever stays must work extra hard that to assure that nothing will collapse.

Who would believe that this is the way a war for our country would be fought.

Even though this isn’t new to us, we still haven’t gotten used to it – it’s impossible to get used to.

Even when I am far away from it all like when I am abroad or just on a trip to the North, any squeak takes my breath away and I immediately start searching for the nearest shelter.

Half the country is trying to get used to the situation – some continue to cope and some are starting to absorb.

For some it has become routine and some are starting to understand that this is the new reality.

For those who here the sirens and start looking where the rocket has fallen: Understand – This isn’t a game – with all the sorrow people are dying and getting injured.

Please listen to the instructions and enter the shelters.

Don’t search for places to die – search for shelter, be strong, count to 20 and move on.

Although this sounds “corny” it’s the reality it’s not a joke.

So for all the “new” clients who are starting to feel this war in the flesh and even the veterans among us. Please, and this isn’t a personal request, protect yourselves, don’t be stupid because this is your life.

It’s 01:00 AM. And it is December 31st 2008.

The last day of 2008 I am spending here, at my grandmother’s house in Ramat-Gan.

On principal I should be quiet and happy that I have a place to be in, outside the range of rackets, grad missiles and sirens. I am sure many would have changed places with me, if they could. Many people who want to go north, to the center of Israel, simply cannot afford to leave they place of residence. There is work, there are kids, family – life must go on. Life must manage through the struggle to preserve life itself.

But me? What do I have to lose? Just my own life – that at the moment ads up to sitting in front of the PC, TV, PC again, a little TV and an occasional book. That’s me: that daring person who would run against walls, blind, fool, whatever…that’s the person who would do it with a smile for friends.

So now, at these times when you discover who your true friends are, now I am far away from them? Now? NOW!

It’s not that I am a hero.

It’s not as if, had I been staying at Ashdod I would have held the missiles away. It’s not as if I can hang around the street, ignoring the risk and protecting my friends with my own body. Not really.

I am talking about those little big things. About sitting together at one sheltered house, when the parents are at work. About spending the time, forgetting about the situation outside and the sirens – be together… no to be left alone is the best protection there is, because when you are alone you are much more afraid. And even if not physically together, the fact that you know what your friends are going through because you are going through it together with them – that’s sharing, it helps, it’s a relief.

And me, my whole life is in Ashdod. Friends, family, places. It’s all there, all of me is there. So what if I am here, in Ramat-Gan, does it mean that I am not worried? All day my head is in the news, and the radio plays the sirens as they are heard in Ashkelon, and the broadcaster is saying that it aims at Ashdod too and I jump and pray “SHMA ISRAEL” and call whoever I can reach in 30 seconds, and no one answers, all the lines are busy, switchboards are collapsing, and I am shaking… until someone calls, two minutes later and tells “they say it hit Yavne”, and somehow it’s a relief. Still, I call everyone – because my guilt, for not being there, won’t let me relax and take a deep breath.

I find myself talking to my friends from Ashdod and they comfort me – as if it’s on my head that the rocket is going to land. They are laughing at me that I am just panicking, and that my parents are hysterical and nothing happened, everyone is OK, and I should stay in Ramat-Gan and relax.

So everyday I am arguing with my parents: “I am coming back! Tonight I am sleeping in my own bed!”, and I can easily catch a couple of busses and get to, or hope to get to, Ashdod, and say – “here, I did it!”. But what is it worth, if all I did was take the load of my shoulders, triple it eight times and dump it in my parents arms “and now – you deal with it” ? What do I say?

Good night. Quiet night.

For everyone

After the missiles that fell yesterday morning and afternoon- we had some quiet, at least that is what we thought until the evening came….. After 9 o’clock in the evening we felt a sort of relief, and then suddenly-  an alarm, an explosion, and then.. “ that’s it, enough for today” and then another alarm and 2 explosions that sounded in the background of the alarm… we run to the news in hopes that everything is ok and that it fell in an open area, but look, also Ashdod suffered a hard hit – 2 injured- one seriously wounded and another in critical condition…

Enough, how much?? We are going to sleep, it’s a quarter to 11… a long day, exhausting….. dark, we try to fall asleep, but it’s not working.. it’s 11 and another alarm, we hear an explosion.. the grad missile fell in one of the northern neighborhoods and hit an electrical structure, 2 major rounds- darks.. I grabbed my pillow and blanket, and moved to sleep with my brother near the front door, the only protected/safe place in the house… and again, we “sort of” sleep, the body is always ready, ready to run and wake up the parents sleeping in the living room.

Morning, the morning is quiet. Finally, there isn’t an alarm that wakes us at 9:30 am like the past days.

I’m too tired to write, sorry…. Pray for us to have a quiet day…

Andrey Boukaty, 17, Ashkelon- A teenager that lives under the reality of missile attacks