One word you never wanna hear in Israel is "pigua". Terrorist attack/bombing.
And in case you haven't already heard there was a pigua here in Israel today, in Be'er Sheva. Pigua is one of the words I know in my limited Hebrew vocabulary, so I knew what was going on when we heard it. We were in the car when we heard the news and my friend translated the details. I hate that all I understand is pigua. Everywhere we went after that I could hear people speaking of it in hushed tones. Pigua, pigua, pigua. And as if I am not usually angry enough about news like this, I am moreso than ever. Because I am here I feel that much more attached to the land and the people, and I am that much more enraged. Truly truly enraged. It brings hot tears to my eyes and makes me want to scream. Grrrrrr....

But of course life marches on here, as most are used to such news. I find that doubly sad since this is something that one should NOT ever be used to. It's NOT normal that people get blown up when they get on a bus. Then again, even as a Canadian who has never touched a gun in her life I am now used to having my bag checked 15 times a day as I go into grocery stores, malls and restaurants (not to mention opening the trunk as you enter the parking lot of malls). Hell, I'm even used to seeing guns slung over the soldiers as they walk by or even on the hips of civilians as they buy their newspapers at the corner kiosk. I feel like a very naive and sheltered Canadian sometimes, though hopefully more educated than most on the matter.

Anyway, today was pretty laid back. We walked around the Weizmann Institute and did some more shopping. I am not one of those kinds of girls who loves to shop, but here in Israel I am. I just love the sights and sounds of it all. And of course the Hebrew written on everything. I always get a kick out of that for some reason.

One thing that has always disturbed me about Israel is the high population of stray cats. So many wild starving cats running around. When we arrived home tonight I was heartbroken to see a gathering of cats of all ages around a dumpster, looking for a meal. There was one tiny kitten in particular that was so sickly and fragile looking...and I felt terrible as I thought of my healthy kitties back home. So of course I had to gather up a plate full of food and scraps to take out to them. :-) I felt a bit better, though I know it only buys them some time. What can I tell you? I have a bleeding heart.

Well, I think it's time to call my mother to let her know I am ok in case she heard the news; otherwise she'll be *freaking* out.........