Yesterday, March 11, 2010,
There were no injuries, he reported. A few minutes later, I received a text message from another friend from Nirim. The kibbutz is 3 kilometres away from us, but I didn’t hear their “Tzeva Adom” (red alert) and the boom that I did hear wasn’t louder than a lot of other booms we’ve been periodically hearing.
This particular qassam fell within the kibbutz but nobody was injured. Pure luck. Pure chance that the ill-aimed qassam managed to land where it did.
The difference now is that both Kibbutz Nirim and Nir-Oz are mid-process of receiving security rooms. Theoretically, within a few months, we’ll have a ‘safe’ place to protect us in the event of receiving the ‘Tzeva Adom’ alert.
Meanwhile, the security rooms are far from finished, and during the process, the workers (both Arab and Chinese) are living on the kibbutz itself, some leaving the kibbutz on the weekend.
It’s discomforting living with so many strangers within the intimacy of a closed community. It’s clear that their only purpose is to earn a living, while our purpose is to try to pretend that everything is normal, pastoral
It’s not. It’s living with continued interruptions, daring not to leave a door unlocked, or items outside, for fear that they won’t be there upon our return from work.
But here we are. The Security Ministry has ordered these structures to be built, and with the continued atmosphere of periodic qassams and perhaps worse, we await the moment when our lives can pick up out of the ever-present dust and pruned tree branches, noise of drills, saws and tractors, and get back to the idyllic peace and quiet and simple smell of cow and chicken manure that we call home.
More news was available when the Air Force struck weapons facilities in Gaza. Read the article below: