Israelis Adapt to Annoying Searches, Ubiquitous Guards

Having your purse, your pockets and your body poked, prodded and squeezed up to a dozen times a day has put Israelis at the cutting edge of what populations must endure in the name of security.

Not only is this spurring interest among mental health experts worldwide as other countries move in the same direction in the post-Sept. 11 world, it’s prompting innovation among Israelis as they learn to bear the unbearable.

Tali Alon, a 35-year-old manager in the hotel industry, says she and her friends now open their purses in an almost Pavlovian response when entering a shop--not only in Israel, but overseas.

House painter Mike Whelan, 49, no longer drives into underground parking lots because he’s tired of explaining what’s in his trunk. Some women have switched to transparent purses that show everything. And Sheera Serbin, a 25-year-old ceramics student, has stopped using a bag altogether.

“I used to carry everything in my purse,” she said. “There’d be seven types of tape, pliers, enough to survive in the desert for a week. Now I only carry what fits in my pocket.”

While this nation has felt threatened one way or another for much of its existence, the past several months have brought the country to a new low as suicide bombings hit civilians where they live. And Jerusalem has become Israel’s “ground zero.”

Everywhere you turn here, there are security guards. Walk across the street, enter a parking lot, drop into a grocery store, stop for lunch--with each of life’s daily activities comes another search. Tamar Samet, 60, a piano teacher, says she’s been through so many, she dreams about them.

Mental health experts say Israel’s stress, its adaptations and its mass trauma are turning it into an international laboratory.

“There’s growing interest in the U.S. and the world in how we’re coping and what measures we’re taking here,” said Hanoch Yerushalmi, a psychologist and head of the counseling center at Hebrew University. “Americans are looking more carefully at how Israelis handle terror--not just how we’re shrinking in fear, but how we’re really living with it.”

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‘What a Life’

Yerushalmi has helped scores of students, faculty members and administrators with post-traumatic stress after a bomb in the school’s cafeteria a month ago killed nine people, including five Americans.

Most Israelis say they readily accept the constant intrusions on their privacy as the price for living here. “At first, it’s strange. Then it irritates you. Eventually, you just stop thinking about it,” said Dov Sirkis, a 50-year-old laborer on disability leave. “But what a life: There are now more security guards downtown than civilians. The police station has moved into the streets.”

With more Israelis arming themselves, the airport authority has started warning people to leave their guns at home before heading overseas. More common are run-of-the-mill humiliations--the tampons or condoms that tumble out unexpectedly, your dirty laundry being pawed through.

“My hash pipe fell out one time,” said Eiall Bandero, a 20-year-old student. “It was rather awkward.”

Security companies acknowledge that they see some strange, smelly, even illegal things. But most say they turn a blind eye to almost anything other than weapons or bombs.

This is a necessary adjustment as the boundary shifts between public and private life, experts say. “The guards pretend not to see it, and people pretend it didn’t happen,” said Gabriel Ben-Dor, sociologist and head of the National Security Studies Center at Haifa University.

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Skeptical of Security

In Israel’s battered economy, jobs as security guards are among the few on offer these days. While most are doing a heroic job for little money, the economy has attracted others for whom security isn’t a lifelong calling.

“I look at some of these guards and think: They’re the last ones who are going to save us,” said Dina Bar Menachem, a 22-year-old studying literature at Hebrew University. “Many are old. Some don’t speak Hebrew. If there was an actual terrorist, I don’t know how well they’d do.”

Ola Kuchles, 45, the owner of a small neighborhood restaurant in Jerusalem that doesn’t use a security guard, recalls a recent trip she took to the beach. Her husband didn’t have a bag, so she put his gun in her purse, then forgot about it and went through a security check. She breezed right by.

Cafe and restaurant owners acknowledge that the quality of guards varies, as with anything else. But they add that it’s as much about mental peace of mind as physical protection.

Some restaurants now advertise their security, and customers often check out the guards before the menu.

“I’m very happy when they search closely,” said Batya Azo, 51, an insurance company manager. “And when they don’t, I’m nervous. I won’t go to a place that doesn’t have security, and I’ll call ahead to check.”

Security companies claim to search everyone equally. But guards admit privately that they search men or Israeli Arabs more carefully than women or Israeli Jews. Having three children under 4 years old also means you’re generally waved through, said 30-year-old mother Ilana Hanzin.

Many Israelis say they only realize how crazy their lives have become when they travel overseas. On a recent trip to the Czech Republic, ceramics student Serbin shunned Prague’s busy squares after months of avoiding all crowds back home. “The fear becomes second nature,” she said.

Not that foreign trips don’t have their own risks. “I’m fed up with the security situation and had to leave, so I spent August in Greece,” said Chaim, a 57-year-old who declined to give his last name. “Unfortunately, I ended up losing $2,000 in the casinos.”

Israelis acknowledge the internal wear and tear. “There’s a definite hunkering down,” literature student Bar Menachem said. “It’s pervasive. There aren’t enough psychologists to take our stress away.”

Closely related is a feeling that the walls are closing in. “It used to be the attacks only happened up north, then in Jerusalem, then on my street. Now it’s my school cafeteria,” Bar Menachem added. “It feels like there’s no place to hide.”

People say this stress shows up in various forms. Drivers are becoming crazier, and there’s more domestic violence in the news, more petty fights. Doctors say bottled-up pressure leads people to overreact in other parts of their lives.

“You become mentally tired,” said Whelan, the painter. “It really wears you down.”

Nearly everyone has a story to tell about how close they came to a suicide bombing or armed attack. Certainly many have had close calls in Jerusalem, say mental health experts. But the stories are also exaggerated, a way of giving concrete form to people’s inner fears.

“Every time there’s a bomb, everyone says they were just about to go down this street or over to that ATM but then decided not to,” hotel manager Alon said. “I’m sure many are true. But a lot are folklore. I think it’s a way of dealing with the death all around you.”

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Quirky Behavior

People also develop their own habits and quirks to avoid danger. Often their choices aren’t particularly scientific or effective, experts say, but they give people the illusion of control over their lives.

Thus people may shun the No. 18 bus, which they deem an unlucky number or unsafe, while riding another route. Or a student at Hebrew University may refuse to sleep in Jerusalem, opting instead to drive the hour each way to Tel Aviv every day.

“Statistically, there’s a much worse chance of dying driving,” psychologist Yerushalmi said. “But people calculate risks in their own unique ways. They’re trying to make sense out of a nonsensical existence.”

Many say they spend a great deal of time looking around them. Last month, police released a how-to manual for identifying suicide bomber suspects: Watch for excessive nervousness, people who sweat profusely, mumble to themselves or wear bulky clothing.

“I just go with my gut feeling,” said David Vaknin, a 24-year-old messenger who reckons he goes through 50 checkpoints a day for his job. “Still, you never know. They could be dressed like a soldier or a rabbi.”

Even as security fears invade almost all areas of their lives, even their dreams, most people say it’s worth it. “I still love this country,” insurance company manager Azo said. “I wouldn’t live anywhere else.”