I hadn’t spent most of my time running to bomb shelters until a week ago, but five weeks of war has still changed everything. In February, I was volunteering with Magen David Adom as a certified first responder, riding in the back of ambulances in Tel Aviv, building a routine. When the war started, that stopped. No more shifts. No more normal schedule.

War isn’t just about sirens. It’s about learning how to adjust to a reality that keeps changing.

At the beginning of my gap year in Israel, I remember asking if there was a miklat in the bathroom. I meant miklachat–a shower. Everyone laughed. I didn’t really understand the difference then. Now I do. Now I know exactly where the nearest miklat is wherever I go. 

At around 8:30 in the morning on February 28th, I woke up to the sound of a siren. I had slept through the initial Home Front Command warning. Now our instructions were stark: “Enter the protected space. Time: one and a half minutes.”

“Is this real?” I asked my roommate.

We grabbed whatever we could and ran. Phone, water bottle, book. Our counselor was yelling, “This is serious– go, go!”

We squeezed into the shelter, everyone still in pajamas. I was fully awake. It felt like being slapped in the face and then forced to sprint.

Later, we were told to pack. Twenty minutes. One suitcase. “One week.”

I knew it wouldn’t be one week.

As I rolled my suitcase towards the chartered bus, people were sitting at cafes, walking their dogs, and talking with friends. It felt surreal. Almost like a joke–a group of American teenagers rushing through the streets........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)