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Artful Bomb Shelters of Sderot

Artful Bomb Shelters of Sderot


From Sore Spots To Sights For Sore Eyes
by Jerry Waxman
Sderot
From The Jerusalem Post
Artists 4 Israel bring some color to Sderot“..... people here have to live with bomb shelters. We’re here doing a little something to bring some color to something that’s here for an ugly reason,” said American graffiti artist Cycle, ..... .
See the article.

Grafitti Therapy:
Some artists came to Sderot this week. They came from the United States, Spain, and Mexico. There were also Israeli artists in this project.

Why Sderot?

That's where the bomb shelters are.

Guerrilla Graffiti

Sderot Painted Bomb Shelter

This last week the bomb shelters of Sderot became canvases for Artists 4 Israel. I didn't see the artists. Apparently they descended upon Sderot in a night time sneak attack.

On Tuesday, I noticed some of the surroundings were suddenly more colorful. Across the street, someone had stenciled "SEAC" onto a power cabinet. Big comical letters surrounded by color.

As you walk around town, you see "SEAC" appearing on some bomb shelters. I guess it's a signature, because it appears alongside some pretty creative graffiti. Take a look at the shelters now.

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Sderot Painted Bomb ShelterThey didn't paint all the bomb shelters in Sderot. You can see some of their work in the center of town, and close to the entrances to town.

Comment: It is very nice to see that someone is paying attention to Sderot's appearance. And it is very nice that there are good-willed people - professional artists - willing to come to Sderot and contribute their talents. Wouldn't it be nicer if the people of Sderot took it upon themselves.

1) There are now trash bins scattered around the city. Yet still there is all sorts of debris floating in the streets and in the parks. Sderot would indeed be a nicer place if its residents decided to keep the city cleaner.

2) Not to downplay the effect that the kassams have had on the people of Sderot, but why overplay it. In general the people here are not suffering such adverse conditions that we need to keep bringing up the kassam problem.

Moreover, wouldn't the people of Sderot benefit most if THEY painted their own bomb shelters? Who is SEAC anyway? I would much prefer to see local signatures. The quality of the art may be lower than that of these international pros. But so what? It would belong to Sderot.

Sderot Painted Bomb Shelter
Someone(s) from Sderot painted this bomb shelter long before we ever heard of Artists 4 Israel.


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The School and the Shuk

The School and the Shuk


Reflections on Quiet and Noise
by Jerry Waxman
Sderot

School: A Dangerous Place For Kids -- And Teachers:
I finally got to teach in a high school here in Sderot. I filled in for an English teacher for a couple weeks. Talk about a war zone! I couldn't hear the shouting for all the noise. "What noise?" you ask. Kids talking.

The Shuk in Sderot

Shuk in Sderot - the outdoor market

Sderot Israel is a quiet town. There is rarely a traffic jam. There isn't much crime. And the people seem to get along. Even the kassams have stopped coming here - for the time being.

You'd think the shuk - the outdoor market - would be the loudest place in town. And it is pretty lively. Every Sunday and Tuesday, this little area in the center of town fills up with tables and tables of vegetables, fruit, pastries, kitchen ware, and clothing.

The vendors shout for hours: "Yarad, Yarad, the price went down!" "Everything on this table for a shekel! Everything for a shekel, lady, eveything for a shekel!

Sometimes there is bickering. Sometimes dickering. Sometimes people don't act too friendly, and don't act politely at all. There are many faces unused to wearing even the sightest smile. Yet still, Sderot's outdoor market is a favorite place to go.

As for the noise level in Sderot's shuk? It's not nearly as loud as the traffic in Tel Aviv. Even the commotion of the crowds scurrying about Jerusalem could drown out the outdoor marketing in Sderot.

If it's noise you're looking for - loud, unreasonable sustained noise, don't go to the outdoor market. Go to the schools.

More later . . .

Secrets Behind The New Passover Haggadah; A Love Story; Part One

Lone Soldier Meets Yemenite Clan
by Jerry Waxman

I was a chayal boded in the IDF; a lone soldier. No family in Israel, none at all. Not even any friends or acquaintences. When I made aliya in the early 1980's I really burnt the bridges with my American past. Who knows why, exactly? Something was burning inside me to be a part of Israel. That's why I got myself drafted into a combat unit in the Israeli army within months after making aliya.

I barely understood Hebrew. My background in Jewishness was limited to having attended high holiday services and family seders while growing up. I knew practically nothing of Israel's history at the time I entered the army.

Being a lone soldier has its challenges. But it also has advantages. My commanders released me almost every Shabbat, and almost every holiday. The owners of a local grocery store began to take interest in this curiousity that came into their store every Friday, just before closing time. Come to think of it, I was the only American in uniform around, maybe the first one for that neighborhood.

One day, the store owners informed me that I was coming to their home for the Pesach seder. They didn't ask me, or invite me, they informed me. It was pre-ordained. Of course I had no problem with the arrangement. As a lone soldier, I looked forward to the chance to talk with the owners' sister. Or sisters, for they had quite a few of them.

[A side story: While the above and following events were taking place, a small child in a remote village in a northern province of Thailand was just beginning a relationship with the world. The child would one day have an impact on the course of many Jewish lives. Find out more when you buy the Andaman Haggadah for your Pesach Seder.]

Nisan 14 came around, and I found myself on a moshav in the Negev. All the moshav members, including the store owners, were Yemenite Jews. That morning, some neighbors were gathered to make matzo, which felt more like pita than like a cracker. They had fashioned an oven outside specifically for the purpose. They also roasted meat outside, to be used for the evening meal.

Was this the beginning of a new adventure? Or was it a re-acquaintence with an old adventure? I did not feel out of place at all. This is what Jews have always done, and some part of me has always been part of it.
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Secrets Behind The New Passover Haggadah; A Love Story Continues

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