12 November 2019. I woke up early to get the children ready for school and kindergarten. I could hear the... Read More
12 November 2019. I woke up early to get the children ready for school and kindergarten. I could hear the deep rumbling of war that crept upon us during the night. The Gaza Strip is 4.7 km from our home at Kibbutz Be'eri. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is the story of our life. We were ordered to stay at home. Once "RED COLOR" siren blares I have 15 seconds to get my children to safety from an incoming rocket. I hear their high pitched whistles. Explosions. The house shakes. Lockdown again, just like a month ago, and a month before that, and one before that. 2 years of war, to cease fire, to war. WAR. We hardly left the house. The children were scared. We woke up each morning and took a picture of their alter-ego super-hero how-do-we-feel-today. Escaping for a brief moment, the violent terrifying world just outside our window.
Day 1 of the last escalation between Israel and Gaza. At our Kibbutz, only 4.7 km from the border, we are in lockdown. No shcools no kindergarden the roads are closed. We are at home, me and the children. Thomas is five years old. We decide to dress up and take a picture to help with the bad thoughts and feelings.