Voices from Jaffa: What everyday life has been like since the war began

Over half a year has now passed since Oct. 7 and all that followed.

Two months after the war began, the Magazine allocated space for expressions of thoughts, feelings, and wishes for the future from people in Tel Aviv-Jaffa, the historical – and contemporary – home to both Arabs and Jews. The speakers include a group of locals, an activist, the director of the Jaffa Theatre, a couple visiting from The Netherlands, some that stayed, and some that left.

It never got lost in the hectic war shuffle, so we have finally given it space – in hopes that by looking back, it can give insight into the reality of life then and now.

Alon Haim Kadosh, local entrepreneur and investor

“This period is illusory and unclear. There is a distance between people. Something in the air is alienating and unclear. There is an atmosphere of death in the air, of danger. Pictures that remind us of the days of the Holocaust.

“It is difficult to celebrate and enjoy the holidays while our brothers are fighting and being held captive by Hamas. Any positive or negative experience, you cannot stop thinking about our brothers in captivity.”

Nitzan, Tel Aviv local

“[I’m] not much of a words person. Each one needs to take care of his own, and that’s it. Hope for the best.”

Ingeborg Visscher, visiting from the Netherlands

“We woke up to the air raid sirens and the sound of rockets on Oct. 7. My beloved and I, halfway through our holiday in Israel, waking up in Tel Aviv. It took a while for the horrible truth to sink in. A major terrorist attack by Hamas that brutally killed so many people. Suddenly we were involved in the start of a war.

“It took five days before we could go home. Five days of hiding from rockets, walking through desolate streets, young people saying goodbye and signing up for the army, despair and sadness, explosions in the sky, wonderful encounters, a worried home front and trying to get through this together. It felt strange to return home safely, knowing that the misery continues in Israel and Gaza.

“It took major effort to settle down again in the Netherlands. Fear and panic were tangible in my body. Unintentionally, I’ve learned something about war.

“One would like to be a plaster on many wounds. It is my spiritual sister, Etty Hillesum, who I turn to for hope. Etty did not survive the Second World War, but she was reluctant to let hate get hold of her heart. I carry her words with me wherever I go. I just pray that we, as humankind, can find a path away from hatred and that one day we will be able to acknowledge each other’s pain.

“Looking back at what we experienced in Israel and are still dealing with six months later, it has amazed me how this tragedy affects so many people and how hatred seems to be spreading. It reminds me of a heartwarming conversation we had in Tel Aviv, a few days after the initial attack by Hamas. Zuriël and I met a Jewish woman on a terrace who was deeply in shock. She was wondering: ‘Can’t people see we are all one?’ I share her wish for this world that we find constructive ways to work towards a sense of interconnectedness instead of mutual destruction.”

Tsoeriël de Jong, visiting from the Netherlands

 “I’m not really good with words, but here are some things that stuck with me most: the deep trauma felt by Israel after the attacks, and the way they dealt with it by looking after each other; the contrast between the bustling city where everyone was talking loudly and moving fast, and the way everything seemed to come to a complete silence, apart from the intermittent air raid sirens; how everyone suddenly started looking out for each other and how complete strangers just started encouraging each other; the palpable trauma felt collectively. Everyone seemed shaken and hurt. This made a big impression on me also.

“Everyone talks about how Israelis are rude, until something like this happens. But to be a part of it was something very powerful to me, and hard to put into words honestly. The silence on the streets after all the young people seemed to have left for their bases in a hurry. It really underscored to me how much Israel, Tel Aviv more specifically, is so strong yet so vulnerable at the same time.

“I also met a man, an old singer and designer of theatre clothes (Yuval Caspin), at a cafe that was still open, who told me stories of how he sang for traumatized soldiers after the Yom Kippur War. He was a singer in the army, performing for veterans who returned from the front line. He described their faces and how it touched him after his performance, how he broke down after the performance and was comforted by a religious man. Yuval is a gay man, who was performing in front of battle-scarred veterans being comforted by a religious Jew. It just really touched me, amid the uncertainty of the moment.

“All the while, a young liberal woman told us about her family’s past during the Holocaust in Eastern Europe. Tel Aviv has some real soul, man – hard to put into words – and I remember Inge saying just how vulnerable everything felt to her, while I just was thinking how strong everybody seemed to me.”

Anonymous, Tel Aviv local

“I can say that I feel like I create my own reality by not being in Israel now. Life is stuck, and no one is really managing the country, the war, other problems. 

“All of my friends are depressed and tell me not to come back for now.

“I have zero respect for the government, and I feel they can’t make me feel safe.

“From that Saturday, I understand that if we will not take care of ourselves, we have no future in Israel. Israel is a miracle and in a second we can lose it, so for me the most important thing is not to get used to bad life conditions.”

Raphi Danan, activist, part of Friends in Jaffa

“I’ve lived in Israel for 10 years, mostly in Jaffa. I’m interested in community and connecting with people.

“My initial reaction upon the war breaking out: It was on Sunday that I called a friend on a base in Karnei Shomron, who was in a reserve unit, and he needed a bunch of supplies for him and his unit. So, I drove with a friend to the Shomron, and we delivered it. Then I reached out to Friends in Jaffa (@FriendsInJaffa), which is a community that I cultivate, as well as a WhatsApp group with 600 people, and I reached out and asked for volunteers.

“Before I knew it, it exploded into a 70-person volunteer organization, operating from my house in a very Arabic neighborhood that is seemingly fully supportive of what I’m doing – which is bringing supplies to those in need. Mostly soldiers, but not limited; for instance, we brought catering for displaced Thai workers.

“It’s been two months now since Friends in Jaffa has been in operation. We’ve completed hundreds of missions over the course of these two months. These missions including receiving requests from friends or people not even connected to us, and we meet these supply needs. We get the equipment and source them however we can: buying them here in Israel, or importing them, and ensuring the quality is of high standard.

“Winter has started; the soldiers in the North are literally swimming around in mud. We’ve been bringing them all sorts of equipment, from collapsible stretchers to beds, massive marquees, generators. It’s cold, and they’re ill equipped for it. The need we are filling is all non-tactical; we generally don’t deal with tactical. This is also about operating an immediate grassroots community here in Jaffa: literally, taking care of our friends, taking care of our brothers. This is as personal as it gets.

“Since January, the requests died down as a result of everyone getting what they needed for the most part, at least for the first phase, shall we say, of this war. The idea is to create an event very soon, and to get things back under operation so that we can be ready in the scenario that things kick off in the North, which it’s almost inevitable to say they might just.”

Igal Ezraty, director, Jaffa Theatre

“The atmosphere is indeed sad. You can see the reactions of the Jewish public in all the media. The Arabic actors and Arabic citizens of Jaffa are in a difficult mood. The Arabic actors at the theater tell me they are afraid to speak Arabic in the street, lest they be attacked. They feel their home is not safe and fear there are plans to evict them from here.

“We performed with plays in Arabic before the evacuees of Kfar Aramsha from the Lebanese border, who are in a hotel in Nazareth. We performed in the unrecognized villages of the Bedouins in the Negev that were severely injured on Oct. 7 and have no means of protection. The performance was emotional, and the parents and children thanked us with tears.

“We believe that as an Arab-Hebrew theater, where Jews and Arabs work and perform in both languages, we have a job and a mission to convey that Jews and Arabs can work together.

“To my surprise, [people] return to the theater. Our shows are full, and so are the political shows! I feel the need for people to face reality.

“Our shows are critical and ask questions. Such as How to Remain Humanistic After a Massacre in 17 Steps; The Shampoo Queen; and Manegalian Passport. The discussions after the performances are fascinating and painful. I believe that after the war in Gaza is over, they will finish rehabilitating the enclave and Gaza; we will have to take care of the relations of the Arabs and Jews in Israel.

Vadim Linchevsky, recent arrival to Jaffa

“Jaffa is a testament to human complexity and resilience. I moved here in August 2023, and over a short seven-month period, I’ve seen some amazing highs and some painful lows in the neighborhood. October and November were tough – no one is going to deny it. But today, Jaffa is rediscovering its old, welcoming self with new residents and businesses moving into the neighborhood. 

Change takes time, but we are here for it because this is home.” ■