On Erev Tisha B'av, the night before the 9th of Av, a fast day very meaningful particularly in Jerusalem I made a schedule of things I wanted to do in Jerusalem during the day. (Yes, I love making schedules, thanks for that, Mom). I had finals on Tuesday so studying was a must, but I wanted to daven mincha (the afternoon service) at the Kotel, was seeking out a community at Robinson's Arch to be with, and had planned on waking up early to go to an interesting learning session at the Pardes Institute. I have always been at camp for the fast day and I was so excited to connect on a different level in Jerusalem, going to the sites which we mourn praying side by side all types of Jews and delving into the issues Jews face every day within our community of Sinat Chinam, senseless hatred (which at camp at least is the primary focus of most older-level discussions on the day of mourning). I was out of my apartment for 3 hours and by the time I got home my apartment was ransacked. I walked into my apartment, saw my very neat roommate's room was a little messy, and then saw that the door to our backyard was open. Shock and panic rushed through me as I entered my room which can best be described as hit by a tornado; clothes were thrown out of my closet on to the floor, my bed was torn apart, every single box under the bed was emptied and items from shelves were everywhere. Keep in mind that I am sub-letting my apartment so most of the stuff gone through was not mine. But most of the stuff stolen was. Thank god my friend Micah had walked me home and he describes the scene as follows:
"Holy shit. Holy shit. This is not messy because of me. Holy shit." I sat on my couch staring at my room and thought about everything that was ostensibly (the room was really messy, did I mention that) missing. Computer-- shit. Camera--shit. American money--shit.
He started to call the police and we suddenly heard a knock on my door- turns out the police were already there because another apartment in my building was also robbed. I stood there staring at them and just showing them around. My Hebrew escaped me. My mind was racing. I needed to call my roommate, David, who was staying at his parent's that night and tell him what happened.
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| Just an idea of what my room looked like |
The police look around, ask me what I can think was stolen, figure out how they broke in and give me the case number and tell me someone is coming tomorrow for fingerprints. Try to not move anything so the investigator can see the whole scene. Great, I'm really going to sleep easy tonight.... So Micah stays with me as I call my dad, "Do you have your passport?" I check and see they stole my backpack with my passport in it (I went to Petra, Jordan on Thursday and hadn't yet unpacked). More panic ensues and I start thinking of everything on my computer that was lost. Don't bother asking, it wasn't backed up. I start making lists on sticky notes of things to do. If the options are fear and panic or panic into action, I choose turning panic into action. People to call: Mom, Jonah, Maya (who I'm sub-letting from), Hebrew U (How am I going to take finals with no notes to study from).... Things stolen: that list just kept getting bigger and I added passport and jewelry (some really really nice, expensive, and meaningful jewelry) to it. I had my dad give me the phone numbers I needed and hung up the phone. I told Micah he could leave, that I had many phone calls to make, and that I would be okay. He was very hesitant to leave me alone but the police assured us I would be okay in the apartment. I called my mom and took down many phone numbers and then resolved to try to read until I could sleep. I was up until 4am getting in touch with the Consulate and family and finally got to sleep until 7:30 when David saw all my calls and texts, called me, and came right over. Before 8am he was here and we started to see what they stole from him, most notably an expensive camera, his fan, and a pair of old sneakers.
My day of fasting, studying, and davening turned into a day of filing police reports (I spoke in Hebrew at the police station!), dealing with locksmiths, checking for fingerprints (they wore gloves), getting calls from almost all of my family members in Israel, and starting to clean the room. I was an emotional mess. Someone was walking around with my passport. My computer. My camera. My jewelry. I am so thankful that I wasn't home, that no one was hurt, that these are all material things. But the violation of someone having your stuff- photos, papers, thoughts and ideas, identity... that is still with me. Every hour I think of something more that was on the computer and feel that pang of hurt. I was too scared to sleep and too tired to work. The vicious cycle has prevented me from sleeping almost all week and I've woken up every 3 hours on the nights that I got more than 4 hours of sleep, which have been 2 since Saturday night. I feel emotionally and physically tired like I want to be with my friends and family and go through my photos in the comfort of my bed.
Do not get me wrong. I am extremely thankful that I am okay. I am extremely grateful that everything is material, that I had my wallet on me, and that 3 years of things on a computer, in the greater scheme of things, is not so much. I wrote an email to 15 of my closest friends from different walks of life telling them what happened, telling them I missed them, and hoping that wherever they were commemorating Tisha B'Av we could work towards a better place devoid of senseless hatred next year. Almost everyone responded and the love and support I felt from abroad was unimaginable. My friends in Jerusalem were offering anything I needed- I told them I just needed to get out a little bit. My roommate took me to the police station and put himself in my shoes trying to help me in any way possible. I am beyond grateful to my Aunt Shirah who went above and beyond getting me a computer from my cousin for my finals week, helping me with my appointment with the Consulate for a new passport, and constantly checking up on me. To friend Nahum Binder who I called Sunday morning and who helped me remember things I needed to do from a practical standpoint, making sure I was still studying for finals, and printing out all of my documents my parents scanned. To my parents for sending me tons of emails this past week and putting up with my calling them every day to check in. For acknowledging that I was pretending to be not as scared as I was. For emailing my aunts and uncles and asking them if I really seemed like I was actually okay.
David and I did nothing wrong. Our doors were locked, our shades were down, and even if my stuff was strategically hidden it would have been found by the way every single pocket of my luggage was gone through. We're victims of senseless hatred exacerbated by the fact that people were not home because they were at synagogue, with friends, walking around the streets of Jerusalem. The police said there's no hope of finding our stuff, even in second-hand stores, that it's all probably in the territories by now (I'm not saying this because of stereotypes, 3 different police officers all said the same thing) so I have no hope of getting anything back.
What next? Everyone go back up your computers. Then take a minute to be so grateful for your health, family, friends, lives. I hear that getting your apartment robbed is a type of rite of passage in Jerusalem. This is not okay. So once you take a moment to reflect and thank whomever or whatever you thank, take action. Teach about senseless hatred, work on a way that you can prevent it in your daily life. You know it's funny, because before I came home that night I told my friend Micah that I have a lot of faith in the power of humanity. I still do. I have a lot of faith in the power of what you can do. And all of those yous make a pretty strong we. Next year, let us all have a better Tisha b'Av knowing that we did something, no matter how small, to make this world a better place.
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