Last update - 00:00 20/01/2008
Sderot, a shadow of its old self
Three reliable indexes all indicated that many Sderot residents had escaped for the weekend. The main one is the Super Dahan index: The grocery store was emptier than usual on Friday. Second, Daniel Suissa reported selling fewer roasted seeds and nuts than usual. Finally, attendance at the town's synagogues was down significantly, "like always during the Qassams," said Benny Na'ama, sexton at Sderot's Persian synagogue.
Super Dahan is in the center of town, near the town hall. At noon on Friday, Daniel Dahan, the store manager and one of four sibling co-owners, relates how his father began the business 40 years ago with a small grocery. It holds its own against the chain supermarkets in the city but nevertheless is affected by the Qassam fire.
"You might think we wouldn't have losses," Dahan says, "because people always need food, but the losses come from the small things. For example, I can't put on music [because people fear it might keep them from hearing the warning sirens], which affects the employees' morale and thus their level of service and revenues."
Further, "one of the results of the Qassams is that children don't come here because their parents don't want to take them out of the house. The children's impulse buys are our main source of profit, and that's gone. It's the men who do the shopping now, the wife gives him a list," Dahan says, taking a list out of his pocket, "and the man buys exactly what's on it, nothing else."
The Qassams pursue the Dahans. Last May they fell on the synagogue while the brothers were dedicating a Torah scroll in honor of their father. A week ago, the home of Eli Cohen, one of the family's 10 siblings, was hit. Last Friday two of them were taken to hospital for shock after a Qassam fell nearby.
Daniel Suissa sells roasted seeds near Sasson Sharett's grocery, across from Super Dahan, as he does every Friday. During the week he works as a casual laborer, but most of his income is from his Friday sales. This week traffic was down. Suissa has six children and nine grandchildren.
"People aren't coming today. It means they've left town for the weekend," Suissa declares.
More than two years ago, a Qassam landed on the home of one of his sons. "My son left for the United States, with three of my grandchildren," Suissa says sadly. His youngest son, 16, who helps him with the seeds, is due to leave for the U.S., too.
A year ago a Qassam fell on their apartment building. "Since then my son has been in trauma, he's in therapy, he sleeps with [me and my wife], so it's better for him to leave," he says. Nearly all of Suissa's children have left Sderot.
"I miss them and the grandchildren. I'd like them to be here with me, we're left in this big house, me and my wife." As he speaks the Color Red alarm sounds. Suissa takes cover in Eli's restaurant, nearby.
Later, at about 4:30 P.M., worshipers begin to enter the Persian synagogue. Benny Na'ama replaced his father, who served as sexton for 40 years. Fewer than 20 people show up. One is seated in a wheelchair pushed by Elisa, his nurse, who is from Nepal. "When they call Color Red I don't know where to flee with the chair," she says in halting English. Elisa does not like Sderot and plans to leave as soon as she saves up enough money. "Sderot is fear, much fear," Elisa says.