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SEPTEMBER 10, 2021 | The Jewish Home
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OCTOBER 29, 2015 | The Jewish Home
Israel Today
Getting Used to Not Knowing By Rafi Sackville
I
consider myself a law-abiding citizen. I follow the rules; I never look to break them. I was brought up in Melbourne, Australia, a law-abiding society where today its citizens have submitted, albeit begrudgingly, to the longest government Covid lockdown
in the world, stringencies the likes unseen in the U.S. or Israel. That said, the era of Covid has blurred the lines between what is and is not legal and has left most of us in a state of constant bewilderment. Covid has turned the passage of many
countries’ legislative processes into a comedy of never-ending errors: democracies that once took generations to develop their legislative powers now roll out new laws ad-hoc, many of which are driven by politics and misinformation. We had spent the summer in Far Rockaway, New York, with our children returning eight days before the start of the school year. Informed during our vacation that we’d need to go into isolation, we mentally prepared ourselves for a week of solitude, otherwise known as “climbing the walls.” Coming back into the country gave us a taste of things to come. The arrival hall at Ben Gurion Airport was dark and unwelcoming. Today, this usually vibrant space serves as a portal to the left, where, through the doors at the hallway’s end, a hangar-like area has been tented and primed for Covid testing. Once tested I turned to an official-looking chap standing at the taxi stand. “What now?” I asked him. “I’m in security,” he replied sternly in the apparent belief that he was absolved of further engagement with me. I leaned in towards him and quipped, “Even if you don’t want to answer, it doesn’t hurt to smile.” He tried hard but couldn’t resist a smile. A citizen behind him said, “It’s like the game of Monopoly; by arriving from overseas you just picked up
a “Go to Jail” card which sends you home for a week, or something like that.” I asked him what he meant by “something like that.” “Just wait. You’ll see.” His use of metaphor was rather quirky, for he then asked me if I’d ever had an eye test which makes the world look blurry. I told him I had. “Well, it’s something like that.” Being an abiding citizen…yada, yada, we went home. While in New York, I called the rav of our shul in Ma’alot to ask him whether I should risk turning up for minyanim during the seven days of isolation. I’d turn off my phone so I couldn’t be tracked. His answer was exquisite; he told me he didn’t recommend the encouragement of moral delinquency. So I found someone to say Kaddish for me and together with my wife entered the small confines of our apartment, where we were to wait seven days before our next Covid test. My friend Noam organized a couple of evening street minyanim for me so I could say Kaddish. The gathered men below my balcony replied amen to my Kaddish. I now know how Juliet felt while Romeo was swooned below her window. Two days later, we got the first of two texts and emails from the Covid testing service and the Ministry of Health. The former informed us we had tested negative at the airport. The latter related that we were mandated to remain at home for fourteen days, not seven. Whaaat?! I’d been told seven days. What on earth did
