An emotionally exhausting day

Today was the first day of full staff orientation. It was a shock to expand from the intimate group of 12-15 newbies with whom I've been spending nearly 24 hours a day for the past week to the full staff of 75. There were far too many faces, names, nationalities, places of birth, places of residence, hobbies, subjects and levels taught, marital statuses, and numbers of children to remember.

After an hour and a half of introductions and a get-to-know-you game, we had a memorial service for a Kindergarten teacher who was tragically killed in downtown Tel Aviv at the end of July. Although I never met this man, it was clear that he was well-loved and his death leaves a deep void in the community. It was difficult to see my new co-workers struggling with their grief.

Immediately after the memorial, a regional security officer from the U.S. Embassy gave an extremely unsettling briefing of the current Israel-Hezbollah crisis. I'm not sure if he intended to give such an overly pessimistic opinion (maybe to prepare us for any one of the worst case scenarios), but his speech was very alarming and left all the new staff in a thinly veiled panic.

The regional security officer (from here on referred to as Mr. RSO) told us that he didn't have any advice as to how we could protect ourselves or our families from the rockets of Hezbollah. Mr. RSO told us that the situation was extremely volatile and impossible to predict.

"This is the Middle East. That's just the nature of this type of conflict," he told us.

If warning sirens were heard, Mr. RSO said, we had between 15 seconds and one minute to get ourselves into a bomb shelter. But even after the sirens stopped, there was no way to be certain we were safe, he warned.

"Once, one of our guys was stepping out of the shelter after the sirens stopped, and the bunker was hit with a rocket," he said. "There's just no way to be sure."

Mr. RSO had a few other uplifting anecdotes to share.

"A man was riding his bike to a bomb shelter when he was hit with a rocket," said Mr. RSO. "If he would have left 1 or 2 seconds earlier or later he would have been fine."

"You know, the Hezbollah have no system to aim their rockets. They shoot a few rockets, turn on CNN, see where they hit, and then adjust their direction. It's like a giant sling-shot," he explained.

Was there any possibility that nuclear or biological weapons could be used against us, a teacher asked.

"Oh, yes, those are definitely possibilities. If Syria and Iran get involved, you might want your gas mask handy."

Mr. RSO continued, "I'm sorry I don't have anything more helpful to say. The katyusha rockets come in at such low altitudes; they're difficult to detect. By the time the sirens start, a few rockets have usually already hit."

"If you hear some loud booms, I would head for the nearest bomb shelter," he wisely advised.

"But really, Israel has an excellent radar system," Mr. RSO finished.

Fabulous. At this point, I'm patting myself on the back for being too lazy to fully unpack my bags.

After the talk, however, the Israeli teachers confirm what many suspect. The man's statements are ridiculous, and there is no need to panic.

"If Hezbollah fires rockets to Tel Aviv, we'll know," a veteran teacher tells me.

But how will we know, I ask.

The teacher explains that the only rockets powerful enough to reach Tel Aviv are those powered by an engine, which would be detected and tracked by radar. Because katyusha rockets have no engine, they are difficult to track and thus their trajectories are impossible to predict. But katyusha rockets have a very limited range, and Tel Aviv is far beyond the radius of danger.

After work, I head to the beach for a run, a swim, and some frisbee, only to come home to news of the attempted terrorist attacks. I'm amazed at the grand scale, complexity, timing, and, even more, the detection and aversion of this plot. I can't imagine the repercussions this will have on the already painful process of air travel.

Also, a 25-year-old Italian tourist was stabbed in Jerusalem today by an "Arab youth." The tourist died from his wounds. I was actually planning on visiting Jerusalem this weekend. Don't know yet if I'll change my plans.

On a different note-- an unusual piece of news: "Mum names son after Hezbollah rocket."