It's Raining Rockets in Haifa

I had just gotten off a bus and was heading to the Masada

neighbourhood in Haifa to meet an old friend for coffee on Thursday night. Something hit like a thud up in the Carmel Mountains, somewhere near the French Carmel. It was barely audible but something was up.

In Masada, where Jews and Arabs live in the same neighbourhood in relative peace, a model for the entire Middle East, there was a nonchalant response - like it was a terrible thunderstorm or something.

We tried to drive up the hill to see where it had landed, but the police had cordoned off the area. We had heard that

an American intern was jogging near there, but she wasn't near the explosion.

Everything was fine. No one was hurt.

This morning, it was different. The air raid sirens started early. As I awoke, there were souds of explosions, rockets hitting buildings, ambulances and then silence. I had no radio or television so I just listened to the silence.

As I walked out to Allenby Street, I waited an hour for the bus and nothing came. I hailed a taxi and jumped into the sherut taxi heading to Tel Aviv. The crowds were beginning to elbow each other for the few spaces that were left and arguments were starting, but there were no injuries or punches thrown. The air raid sirens were going off again, ambulances were racing through the streets and there was the strange sound of deafening quiet.

At least 20 rockets slammed into Haifa on Sunday. 8 people were killed near a train depot.

Yesterday, I was reading Susan Sontag on the beach. Now people are hiding in bomb shelters under their buildings.

Fear is in the air - this is what hell looks like.