The Husband of a Journalist at War.

Jodi Rudoren is the Jerusalem bureau chief of the New York Times.  She is currently in Gaza.  This is a blog kept by her husband.

The Jerusalem Diary - Post 13 - Wife During Wartime

OF GAS MASKS AND GUM:  WIFE DURING WARTIME

November 19 2012 –Dispatch from the Back Lines

Last week, my wife Jodi was sent to Jordan to cover the potentially escalating riots there when she got a call from her editors telling her to head to Gaza where the action escalation had gone beyond “potentially.”

She told me she would be home the next morning and then have to re-pack and head out right away.  I started to get anxious because I had seen the early reports about the missiles flying each way in this conflict in Gaza and much of the southern part of Israel.  The next morning, I asked Jodi if there was anything she needed.  Anything I could get for her.

“Find the gas mask and get me gum” was what she wrote.

An hour later she was home. Twenty minutes after that she was in a cab with a bigger bag to carry her bullet-proof vest, helmet and the newly-found gas mask (along with 3 different flavor packets of Orbit gum).

That was Wednesday, about 6 days ago, but at the risk of the cliché’, it feels so much longer than that.

This is not going to be the funniest update I’ve ever issued, but I hope to convey to you what’s been bouncing around in my head during these heady times.  Some of it has come through in tweets and Facebook updates, but at a certain point (no offense Dick Costolo) 140 characters doesn’t cut it.

WAR, HUH…

There is a war going on in this country, but with the exception of one siren, we here in Jerusalem haven’t been physically touched by it – not in the horrific way those in southern Israel have or even the scary and inconvenient way many in Tel Aviv have.

I feel blessed to have fairly typically self-absorbed 5-year olds who have no idea about the war or that Mommy hasn’t been able to sleep a lot because of the sounds of bombs not-too-far from her hotel room in Gaza.  I admit that, if this weren’t the case – if my kids were older and smart enough to be scared – that this would be a whole different situation.  I should remember how fortunate I am when I’m merely frustrated because they won’t finish their breakfast.

For now though, their iPad usage is spiking because I’m not being the awesome-color-with-me-please-right-now Dad that I aspire to be as much as I am the Dad trolling for stories and updates about the war.  I’m not ignoring them, I’m just worried about Jodi and I know that if I can feel calmer with more info about her and what’s going on with the situation, then I will feel better able to answer their questions if they arise.  (For the record, our discussion of the siren was pretty limited and I explained that it just meant that they wanted us to find a safer place – in our saferoom-less apartment, I told the twins that we would go into the bathroom if it happened again)

Lev and Shayna certainly want their Mom back, but I believe they also understand - to the extent they can understand – and share my pride in her when I tell them that “Mommy is doing a very important job and she loves you and wants to come back as soon as she can.”

They say “okay” and then go back to playing Angry Birds – irony, duly noted.

MY HEAD

We’ve been in Israel for 5 months now.  This is a once in a lifetime opportunity that we have thanks to Jodi’s hard work and talent.   That she is adding “war” correspondent to her illustrious resume, unfortunately doesn’t surprise me. 

While I’ve never lived here, I’m aware of some of the history of the conflict, so, sadly it’s been in my head since the beginning that at some point over our planned four year excursion,  there would be a need for her to cover a situation. That sounds smart and all, except, “aaah, I thought so” wasn’t in my head as I was lugging a bag with my wife’s Kevlar vest (that felt like it weighed more than she does) down the stairs to a cab.  Instead my thoughts turned to the evil-“what ifs” of life.

For the record, “what if” are probably my two favorite words.  As someone who prides themselves on having an imagination, there can be exciting and exhilarating endings to sentences that start with “what if.”  I live for those stories.

In this case I’ve found myself over this last week fighting off the “what ifs” in my head that all ended in tragedy.  I won’t even spell them out for you.  If you love someone, as I do, you can fill in those awful blanks.

We talk every day, but oddly, or perhaps not so oddly in this day of the iAge, Jodi also talks to me (and the world) through her pieces in the paper chronicling what is happening on the scene.  As I read all of her facebook posts, links and tweets I realize that she is not only surviving, but thriving. (hey, we’re talkin’ war here, I’m gonna throw in some cliché’s!).   She is expressing herself emotionally sometimes in these posts, but still professionally.  I know she’s nervous, but I don’t ever get the sense that she’s scared for herself.  Perhaps she’s sparing me that so I don’t worry even more, but…  She wants to write the great story.  Paint the pictures that need to be painted for her readers.  I see where she gets criticized, but also in more than equal measure there are those who make a point of telling her how much they appreciate her postings.  My pride and worry fight it out in my head and heart.

“HERO”

I mentioned clichés, so here’s one I’d like to explode, albeit in a cliché’-filled way.      As wonderfully thoughtful and dear as so many of you are who have reached out to ask about our safety and call us heroes, it’s an unfortunate use of that word.  I am merely shouldering a burden as a single dad (geez-for a whole week!) and trying to get them to gymnastics after school on time.  We’re fine.  And we’re so fortunate to have a support system here ranging from new friends to the NYTimes staff and editors who help us in many ways.

I will consider Jodi my own hero for doing the hardest thing she’s ever done and being an example to our family of dedication to responsibility, but I believe even she would say that she doesn’t like others throwing the word “hero” around about her.  Here’s the cliché’…but wait for it… because cliché’s come from common truths – the real heroes are those who are putting their lives on the line in the military and by extension their families are heroic for sharing their loved ones with us all for the sake of what they believe in.  Actually, it’s the “what they believe in” part where it gets unusual, because not every soldier here is a gung-ho G.I.Joe (or even an IDF Yakov).  I’m sure that many who serve have doubts, but they serve.    If you don’t know, in Israel, everyone has to join the army at 18. Have to. (With some exceptions in the ultra-orthodox community, which has been the source of lots of controversy and tension, but I won’t get into that here and now).  Imagine if in the United States, every son and daughter had to serve time without exception.  The country would explode.    Israel is a large, dysfunctional family, to be sure, but for it’s overwhelming majority, all politics aside, I would describe the people of Israel as uniquely invested in their country in a way Americans can’t even imagine.

I have the utmost respect for the military families in the USA, but we are such a large and diverse nation, for those who literally don’t have skin in the game, it is often incredibly hard to relate to those that do.  It’s a fact and, a sad one at that.

So when the word “hero” is thrown out there, my first thoughts go to these kids who are put in harm’s way for their country.  My second thoughts though, are to Jodi and her colleagues throughout the war zone who are doing their job so that we can get the truth.  That they don’t think of themselves as “heroic” is my last cliché, but you can decide for yourself.  I’ve made my decision about Jodi.

…AND IN THE END…

I’m not going to discuss the decades-old elephant in the country.  I’ve been here 5 months and it would be arrogant of me to say I’ve got this conflict all figured out.  I don’t believe though that anything will ever be resolved as long as each side has openly declared they desire the total annihilation of the other. 

I will say that I am sick of the hate that I continue to read.   The worst of it is the personal of course - those who have lambasted my wife on the internet or through e-mail for her reporting (or even more stupidly superficial reasons) and at the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, I want to just reach through the internet and slap them around.  Or do worse to the cretin who chose to mention our children in a rant.  

The internet and social media, while helpful for everything from the spread of viral “kittens-doing-whaaat?” videos to the toppling of regimes has also made people insane.   I’ve said this before, so I won’t go on any further, but the vitriol of the recent American campaign season can only be topped by the intense hatred expressed –on both sides – about this conflict in Israel.  And that’s a lot of hate-typing. 

I don’t know the solution for sure and I don’t know anyone that does, but I believe it can only happen if people can get past the hate.  I really don’t care if you think that sounds too simplistic or naïve’, but the truth isn’t always that complicated.

SO….

I got a bit astray from my main topic of my wife, but although she has earned her way into most of my head, I have to same room for some other stuff (don’t even get me started on what I’m missing on TV this season!).

I guess the simple tweet version of this whole post might translate into: 

“The kids and I are fine.  We miss Jodi terribly, but with equal measures of love, pride and worry we know she’s kicking ass and hope she’s home soon. Oh, also, stop hating everybody.”(exactly 140 characters Dick)

WHICH REMINDS ME…

The last couple of days Lev & Shayna have loved lowering the windows as we drive around and shouting “Shalom” to anyone they see.  Over and over again. Smiling and laughing all the while. 

I don’t know about you universe, but that seems like a pretty good start.

Peace and love,

Gary