Under Fire, part 13

Keep your chin up! A friend in the States asks me how I keep my sense of humor; my mom mentions that I sound "fairly chipper" in a phone call; a colleague overseas wonders how I maintain perspective. How do I do it? Or rather, how do we do it?

There is no question that the constant thudding of distant (or, in our case, not-so-distant) artillery is a drain, or that the daily sirens and jarring local hits are stressful. But we cope because we have to. Where can we run to? Other parts of the country are also at risk. And what other country in the world is our home, or can promise us a safe haven? We aren't in this situation by choice, but if no one else will take care of these terrorists, we must. And most of us are willing to gut it out for as long as it takes the IDF to push Hezbollah out of Lebanon.

But as the days pile up, the stress becomes cumulative. My muscles ache from tension. The upstairs neighbor drops something and I jump. The Doppler whine of a car passing on the main road (a rare occurrence these days) sounds like the start of the sirens, and for a split second I freeze.

So how do we cope? How is that we can still make jokes (albeit rather dark ones) and find anything to smile about? How is that guys in the carpentry shop in Nesher (Haifa area) that was totally destroyed by a rocket yesterday—killing one employee in the process—vow to open again as soon as possible? How is that a man can sit amidst the wreckage of his apartment and play the piano? "Wait, let me play something in a major key," he says, "to put us in a better mood." A friend, caught outside just now as the sirens are going off and a rocket sails by, calls me. "Where do I go?" We've been instructed to stand close to a building if we are caught in the open and can't reach safety. "But the closest building to me is a house that was hit the other day," she wails. "Hizbullah's already got that address!!" She's scared, but she's still cracking jokes.

So how do we cope?

1. Online humor and games: When the constant downer of newsfeeds gets to be too much, I can always count on a smile at the infamous "Engrish" site. Dedicated to the weird and wonderful world of garbled English signs, menus, and packaging from the far east, it always makes me laugh. Sometimes the mindless joy of popping virtual perpetual bubblewrap soothes my nerves, or a challenging game of hairball bowling takes my mind off of the current reality.






2. Chocolate: OK, not just chocolate, but lovely, unhealthy, carb-loaded junk food. (Clearly, Atkins would not have lasted two days in a bomb shelter.) We need comfort food, and we need it all the time. We suffer from Nervous Nibbling, Siren Stomach, and Aftershock Appetite. Nadine, usually less than thrilled about plain ol' kitty crunchies, makes 20 trips a day to her bowl. We may waddle out of this war fat, flabby, and pale, but we'll worry about that later.






3. Moral support: The calls and letters from friends and family are incredibly important, but the real surprise is how much a bit of moral support from unknown members of the international community can help. I've received messages from people whom I've never met, recognizing that our army's actions are to defend our citizens. (Hey, even the Governator recognizes our rights!)






4. Very, very bad television: I'm talking ancient reruns, like Hogan's Heroes and Get Smart. (What better way to feel that we can survive than to laugh at Colonel Klink?) Perhaps we laugh because we can survive. Or perhaps we survive because we can laugh.