To 443 or not to 443?
With Highway 443, the road that runs between Jerusalem and Modi’in through the West Bank, all over the news lately, I was reminded of the events that led to 443 being closed to Palestinian traffic nearly ten years ago.
We had been invited to a barbeque at the house of friends in Modi’in. On the day of the party, the news reported that Highway 1, the main road out of Jerusalem, was jammed and there were hour-long back-ups. The solution seemed easy enough: we’d just take the alternative highway – Highway 443.
Except that nothing is that simple in Israel.
Since the second intifada broke out in 2000, we had avoided traveling on certain roads, specifically those that pass by areas where there had been terror attacks. 443 had been the site of many such tragic incidents, from ambush killings, drive by shootings, to frequent firebombs.
443 was closed to Palestinian traffic in 2002 – the controversial act that led to this month’s Supreme Court decision ordering the army to re-open back the road within six months. Even with the traffic ban, we weren’t comfortable with the drive. But we were already running late for the barbeque. Sitting in traffic would have meant we’d miss all the fun. And definitely the chicken wings.
With no small amount of trepidation, we opted to take the fast track. We were immediately struck by its stark, barren beauty. The rolling hills with their jagged rock formations, the long stone terraces that always look to me to be thousands of years old.
My wife Jody rolled down her window. The road was open, traffic was flowing, the mountain air smelled crisp with just a hint of the salt from the Mediterranean Sea, already visible in the distance.
Then, out of the blue, we came to a stop. I quickly noticed that no cars were coming in the other direction either. Something had happened.
People turned off their car engines, got out and stretched their legs. A man opened his back door and out sprang a scraggly black dog who instantly jumped the fence to go for a run on the empty other side of the road. The sounds of the muezzin from a nearby village echoed through the valley.
We turned on the radio. Galgalatz was reporting that a hefetz hashud – a suspicious object – had blocked the road.
In the midst of our waiting, a totally chutzpadik taxi driver decided he couldn’t wait and started to push his way to the front. Honking ferociously, he yelled to the other cars to start up their engines and move to the right so he could squeeze by on the almost non-existent left-side shoulder.
It was not like he was going to get past the roadblock. What was he looking for? A half a minute’s lead-time over all the rest of us freiers?
And then, after about 40 minutes of frustration, BOOM. Not deafening, but still loud enough to rattle us. The police robot used to zap suspicious objects had apparently taken a bite, and something on the menu had a kick to it.
The traffic started up again. Slowly we snaked down the road, anxiously craning our necks to see what the cause of all the commotion was. I imagined something minor, maybe a small package, a garbage bag or even a suitcase forgotten the side of the road.
It was a car. An old Subaru, left abandoned, and now a smoldering wreck. That was big…had it been blown apart by the robot or was there a bomb inside? I couldn’t stop myself from thinking: what if it had gone off just as we were passing? On the very day – no, the only day – in the many years that we chose to go this way?
Since that incident, the intifada has faded and so have our fears. We travel 443 regularly. But what will happen when the road is reopened to traffic from Ramallah and other points in the PA, we wonder? Will we – and other nervous Israelis – pack back onto Highway 1? Was that, perhaps, the reason a new exit was recently opened entering Modi’in from the south?
Summer is still far away, but the annual barbeque is already calling. I suppose our decision will be made based on if we’re on time or not.
And whether they’re running out of chicken wings.
Among the wildflowers
As Rachel wrote last week, wildflowers are in full bloom as the “rainy season” ends. The Modi’in area is saturated with beautiful flowers and one of the city’s greatest treasures is Givat Titora, a 140 acre green space with hiking trails, ruins, cisterns is currently the city’s main attraction and a popular spot for locals. Shockingly, contractors have been trying to get a hold of this land for years to build apartments. This site, set up to oppose construction on Titora, outlines the rich history of the hill. Titora is one of Modi’in’s greatest assets and the very thought of construction there sickens me.
On Friday I took my daughter to Titora for what we call an “adventure” – which is my way of branding something that she might not be able to get her head around. Right before her nap I told her when she awakens we were going to go smell the flowers. She was pretty stoked when she got up and starting screaming “FLOWERS! FLOWERS!” so I immediately threw her (well, placed her actually) in the car and took off! Here are a couple of photos from the afternoon.
My first Adloyada
Earlier in the week I attended my local Purim Parade (Adloyada – See Rachel’s always excellent and entertaining Nostalgia Sunday piece here). I don’t like parades. Never got them and standing on the side of the road, often in extreme weather, as sub-mediocre bands and masses of children waving walk by isn’t exactly how I like to spend my mornings. Yes, I’m a cynic. Have been for quite some time now. But I am willing to concede that witnessing life through my young daughter’s eyes is starting to lift the veil a bit and is having, ahem, a somewhat profound effect on me.
As we approached the crowd my daughter, dressed as a bumblebee, grew visibly excited with a highly curious “I don’t know what’s going on here” look. My city’s parade is not a glamorous affair. Most of the marchers are from local schools, clubs and sports teams. This didn’t stop her from demonstrating her excitement. “Boys!” she exclaimed as a group of young basketball players ran by dribbling. “Dancing!” she screamed as one of the local dance troupes pranced along as she did a little spin of her own. “Mah Zeh! (Hebrew for “what’s that?”) she asked as a guy dressed in a horrible Shrek costume with his underwear hanging out walked bye.
The Democratic School of Modi’in marched in Gilad Shalit t-shirts and carried banners promoting awareness that even on this happy and celebratory day, Shilat is still in captivity. Thankfully, my little bumblebee didn’t ask about them, because honestly, I wouldn’t know what to say.
Reserved revelry of the times
Filed under: Crime, General, History and Culture, Israeliness, Life, Travel, War, coexistence
With a population of around 67,100 and proximity to both Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, Modiin is one of the larger suburbs of Israel. The city is located very close to the Green Line, though, making for some awkward situations for Israeli-Arab relations in the neighborhood – especially along the 443 highway, a major commuter thoroughfare. This isn’t a band of fringe settlers butting heads with nationalist Arab elements. Like the Kfar Saba-Qalqilya juxtaposition, it’s mainstream Israel in close quarters with villages.
Terror-resembling hate crimes have taken place in the area many times over the years (including these four incidents from 2000, 2001, 2002 and 2003, during the Second Intifada). This past March, long before the wave of violence that kicked off last month, the high court defended arrangements which basically ban Palestinians from using the 443 in order to minimize its exposure to terror. And since the war in the south has escalated, there have been stoning incidents, Molotov cocktails and even a stabbing.
Anyone reading this blog knows that in times like these, life goes on. In general, incidents like the aforementioned don’t keep Israelis from going about their business, much like the way that regular shootings and muggings in American inner cities don’t keep Americans from going about theirs. But that doesn’t mean that we don’t take precautions. We do.
A friend of mine who lives close to me in Modiin attended a party last night in Jerusalem, and while he didn’t drink, so as to maximize safety on the journey home, his sister did. Quite inebriated, her head was spinning from the drive, which, as we all know, has the potential to cause vomiting. Cruising along the 443, my friend found himself in a bind. He did not want his car to get all vomited out, and he wanted to comply with his sister’s wishes for a break in the motion, but on the other hand, it was the middle of the night and he was within rock-throwing range of more than one Arab village.
So yes, in times like these, we keep working, living and even sometimes partying as if there were no conflict. But that doesn’t mean the conflict doesn’t color our judgment and impact our actions. And in case you were wondering, the way he tells it, my friend’s solution was to pull over for his sister to vomit out the car door for two minutes at a time, and only when she really really needed him to. She used a plastic bag the rest of the time.
Photo of the 443 highway courtesy Michaeli via Wiki Commons.
All politics are local…
Today, there are municipality elections throughout the country, including in my town of Modi’in. The news is certainly focusing on all the sexy elections such as the former head of the air force vs. the communist in Tel Aviv and the high tech mogul vs the Rabbi in Jerusalem but hey, there are important issues we are dealing with here in the suburbs as well.
My wife and I have been following our local election very closely. It’s only the second time I’ll be voting where the “situation” isn’t an issue. It’s quite refreshing actually weighing candidates on issues such schools, city expansion, economic growth, dog poop etc.
Now there are two parties we support, Shachar – a party of secular and religious residents whose main emphasis is on improving education – and the Greens – who are all about the environment, improving the quality of life and care deeply about the preservation of Modiin’s local archeological sites.
Mayor is a different story. The candidate I support has been polling fairly low. Even though the two leading candidates will probably have a run off and force another election I am still voting for the lower polling candidate who I believe not only would do a superior job, but has always been responsive to my concerns as a resident of Modiin. Someone mentioned today that one should never vote on strategy but rather who you believe will do the best job. I subcribe to that philosophy as evidence in my disastrous vote for Tafnit in the last national elections. Honestly, I’ll vote for whoever promises to establish quality dog runs in Modiin. I’ve been living here almost six years and my dog has gotten pretty anti-social due to the strict leash laws and the lack of open space for our pooches to run around. That’s my issue. Bring on the dog runs!
Parents’ Day
Filed under: Crime, General, Israeliness, Life, coexistence
I love field trips. But I had never been on one before in a police van led by cop packing an impressive looking piece.
No, the authorities hadn’t finally caught on to me and sent me up the river. It was part of ‘Parents Day’ in the Israel Police department for families with children serving their army duty in the police.
For someone who’s always kept their distance from authority, I felt pretty comfortable as my wife and about 12 other adults joined my daughters commanders for a half day tour of the area they patrol on a day-in day-out basis.
This was a part of Israel we don’t usually get to see… the Shai district, which runs from the Shomron settlement of Eli to the Jerusalem area settlements of Adam and Anatot around to the east and the Modi’in-area settlement of Nili, Kiryat Sefer and others. The operative word, I guess, is settlements.
As parents, we tend to pack away in the backs of our minds the fact that our daughter is driving around 12 hours a day arbitrating olive picking disputes between Arabs and Jews, removing settlers from illegal outposts, arresting husbands who are abusing their wives or children, controlling traffic after an auto accident, confiscating knives, drugs and other contraband from cars stopped at roadblocks… and doing it all on roads and neighborhoods which are high risk anyway for rock throwing attacks and even worse.
We received some insight into the complexities and nuances of keeping the peace in an area where there’s constant conflict, where nobody really knows who owns those olive groves, where a caravan can be put up illegally but the police are powerless to dismantle it, unless the political echelon gives the ok.
We visited Eli – amazing view and weather, the archeological site of Tel Shilo, the oldest settlement in Shomron, Ofra, and Amona, the site of a violent scene two years ago when police tore down permanent buildings built there illegally. Those same settlers who were fighting the police then are the same ones who receive full service the next day when their car is stolen by someone in the Palestinian village next door.
We ended up in the police district headquarters at Beit El, where we were greeted by our children in uniform and treated to a luncheon feast.
When our daughter’s commander walked toward me at one point with a purposeful look, my heart started beating and the first words that came to mind were going to be ‘but it was for medicinal purposes only’. But he only wanted to talk about seeing Paul McCartney last month and compare notes.
I was a little disappointed because when we were stuck in a traffic jam just past the Hizme checkpoint heading out of Jerusalem into the territories, the driver didn’t just put the siren on and pass all the cars at a high speed. That would have been cool.
But the police seemed pleased with how their first Parents Day turned out, and they plan to do it again. The commander left us with some good advice. Make sure to give your daughter or son a hug or a pat on the back once in a while, because they’re doing an amazing job at trying to keep our country safe. I know I’ll be doing that a lot from now on.
Only in America?
I am currently in America visiting my family and celebrating the birth of a new nephew. We visit America just about once a year and every year I feel more and more distant from the life I once led here. I’ve spent approximately one third of my life in Israel (which amounts to my entire adult life) and I find it difficult to connect to the place I grew up. This is our second trip with our daughter but the first where she is actually “aware” of what’s going on. In Israel we speak exclusively in English in the home and she’s exposed to Hebrew from our native Israeli friends and the gan she attends. As well as the occasional Hebrew-dubbed version of Jack’s Big Music Show. I anticipated some major jetlag so I set the dvr to record a couple of episodes of “Jack.” She usually has a major freakout during the introduction – stamping her feet, clapping, waving hello, etc. However when I put Jack on, she just looked at me really confused….like Jack is supposed to talk in Hebrew, not English. I felt really bad for her. Her tiny world was turned upside down.
Fast forward a day later we were visiting friends in Forest Hills, New York where playing in a park among many, many Israelis. Her face lit up when she heard all the Hebrew being spoken. It made me a very, very proud Abba.
Now my parents don’t live in the most Jewish area of New York. The depths of Suffolk county, NY has plenty of Jews, but it is certainly no Five Towns. We went to the local mall today (must get as much shopping in as possible) and the little one was getting a little kvetchy and we had another 30 minutes before our scheduled meet-up with my wife. I had to think fast….and there it was…like an oasis on the horizon…a kiosk selling Dead Sea products! I casually walked by knowing that I would get the Israeli hard sales pitch. When I answered her in Hebrew she was quite delighted to converse. And just as I planned when my daughter Tzofia heard her speak Hebrew she once again lit up and completely engaged her in “conversation.” Turns out the saleswoman was also from Modi’in and lives just three blocks away from us. Only in America!
Modi’in’s Ecological Farm
Green Prophet recently wrote about one of my favorite local places to visit – the Hava & Adam ecological farm and education center in Modi’in. They presented a rundown of all of the events and happenings going on this summer on the farm. I can’t say I am even remotely involved in the farm, but as a resident of Modi’in I am very proud of its presence.
Their goals:
The primary focus of Hava & Adam’s is its array of educational projects. Some are conducted on the Farm site while others are held in the larger community. We have established eco-centers in 20 schools, guided some 10 community gardening initiatives, trained about 80 counselors, taught officially certified courses in Permaculture Design, operated summer camps, conducted holistic healing treatments, and run a variety of activities and workshops in crafts, cooking, herbal remedy preparation, organic farming and hosted hundreds of visitors – children, youth and adults from Israel and abroad.
I actually just brought my daughter there on Friday to look at the chickens (she likes looking at chickens) and check out the opportunity for “renting” out a small plot. I concluded that I would need at least one more partner in crime in order to properly maintain a small plot of land. I am not much of a toiler and the heat there….unbelievable. Maybe in the fall when it is cooler. In the meantime, I’ll just visit the chickens. I like them too.
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