Protests in Israel are so regular; you wonder that people notice them at all. More often than not, the issues are politically charged, and opposing sides are holding counter-protests across the way. In fact, you may not want to mention anything protest-worthy with the stranger sitting across from you on the bus, lest it come to blows. Unless, that is, the protest has to do with Sderot.
 
Sderot, the beleaguered Israeli city that has been under constant rocket attack from the neighboring Hamas-

We are living our ordinary lives while our fellow citizens are literally living under siege.

controlled Gaza Strip, has the unanimous sympathy of the rest of Israel; "unanimous" being a word that is not often heard in this country. For many, however, sympathy isn't quite enough.


There's something about putting your money where your mouth is. It is something that more and more people, across the political divides, feel the need to do for the people in Sderot. Every week, hundreds of families throughout Israel are purchasing bakery items by ordering them from Sderot bakeries. Bicycling groups are heading to Sderot for solidarity rides. Tourist are making the rounds in Sderot, albeit carefully, with shelter from Kassam rockets never far away. While I've bought a few challahs myself, I couldn't shake the feeling that it just wasn't enough; that we are living our ordinary lives while our fellow citizens are literally living under siege.


Of course, there are still the ubiquitous Israeli protests. The other day, I was on my way through Jerusalem and I got stuck in traffic. Before long, I realized that this was no ordinary traffic jam; it was a protest against the constant Kassam attacks on Sderot and other Negev towns. People were lying in the street, stopping traffic, while horns were blowing throughout, mostly in support. My friend asked me how I can tell which horns are being supportive. I told him that all of them are supportive - whether or not they mean for them to be. Believe me; I was honking away like the best of them.


A colleague of mine recently came up with a brilliant idea. Rent an office in Sderot, furnish it, then have a rotating group of people bring their work with them each day and do their jobs there. It was perfect. While it may not do anything to protect the people, it would bring money, a fresh presence, and, most importantly, provide genuine support to the people of Sderot with a true act of solidarity. As someone who carries all her work in her laptop, I immediately signed on.


Of course, writer that I am, I imagined as the time was getting closer for the opening of the Sderot office that this was going to be a great writing opportunity. Being on location, in the center of serious current events, who knew what kind of action I would see? Thank G-d, I actually saw none. In fact, the work I did was quite ordinary and run

In the center of serious current events, who knew what kind of action I would see?

of the mill. But the day, for me, was extraordinary. It seemed that as the day unfolded, the article practically wrote itself.


The rotation was actually arranged such that we would go in pairs. For some reason, the day found only me on the schedule. Not one to be easily deterred, I took directions and headed off to the unknown to support people I'd never met by doing my regular work for other people altogether. With adrenaline pumping, I flew down Route 3, wound around 232, and coasted right into Sderot. I felt slightly tense as I glanced into the air, half expecting a rocket to instantly appear as I entered the city. I slowed at a crosswalk, and watched a well-dressed, attractive woman as I waited for her to push her stroller across the street. I wondered what she would do if the alert was sounded while she was out here with her baby. I was suddenly filled with rage at how the natural joy and spontaneity of life had been stolen away from these ordinary people.


I arrived at our building, which was simply a small outdoor mall with some offices upstairs (and a reinforced roof to protect against Kassams). The stores were filled with merchandise, but empty of people. The offices were empty altogether, we being the only tenants. I greeted the shopkeepers warmly and made a mental note to bring shopping money the next time I came in. I found our office, let myself in, and got settled. I immediately found the place to be perfectly conducive to a productive workday.


After several hours, and some local fare at the café downstairs, it was time to head back. The café owners are now my friends for life, and I honestly am looking forward to my return. In those few hours, I felt that I connected to these people who are living their lives under siege. I was simply going about my daily business, but I was doing so in Sderot - just like them.


I heard on the news that a protest by Sderot residents had closed down a Tel Aviv highway. While protesters were taking to the streets, I was staging my own quiet protest; without fanfare, without signs, without noise - and without contest. I simply made my way to work, and made my work mark the way.