‘We’re all in this together’

Elie Y. Katz loves being in Israel.

But now it’s time for him to come home.

Mr. Katz, a lifelong Teaneck resident who’s been a member of the town council for just about half his life and now is its deputy mayor, was in Israel with his family for a wedding. “That was last Monday,” he said. “We were supposed to go home on Sunday night.”

But no.

Israel’s main airport, Ben Gurion, was closed, and flights in and out of Israel suspended as Iran responded to Israel’s attack on its nuclear enrichment facilities and military leaders and scientists with its own attacks.

That means that thousands of Israelis are stranded outside Israel, and thousands of non-Israelis are stuck inside Israel, all unable to get home.

Israel’s been working on gradually fixing the situation, but it’s a logistical challenge. When Mr. Katz talked about his plans — or lack of plans — it was well before any official solution had presented itself.

“It’s unknown how we are going to get home and when we are going to get home,” he said. “And we are not alone. I’ve been hearing from dozens upon dozens of WhatsApp groups and texts and phone calls from people who read about my situation on social media. And I’ve heard from a lot of parents who have kids here for their gap year.”

Most gap-year programs ended last week, so most of the now-rising-college-freshmen who spent the year after high school in Israel got home just before the airports closed. But a significant minority of them had planned to extend their stay in Israel by a few days, and now they’re stuck.

“And I heard about some kids who went to Athens for a couple of days last week,” Mr. Katz said. “They left their stuff in Israel. They were going to come back for it, but they couldn’t.” So they’re back home, but their belongings are still in Israel. Yes, a first-world problem, but a small problem nonetheless.

One of Mr. Katz’s children had been on his gap year in Israel; he left the day after the wedding, so he’s back home. His two siblings, like his parents, are still in Israel.

“We’re staying at an Airbnb near City Center in Yerushalayim,” Mr. Katz said. “It’s very comfortable. There is a bomb shelter inside the apartment, and there is another one in the basement. It’s the entire basement, and it’s three floors belowground, in the parking lot, so we can go there as well.

“We’re very comfortable.”

On the other hand, “we have had alarms on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, and on Sunday during the day too,” he said on Monday. “So I’m definitely sleep-deprived. It’s a combo of jet lag and sleep deprivation, and it’s a bad combination.

“But I will tell you that Israel does an amazing job to make sure that everyone, citizens and visitors, are informed. We receive notifications about going to bomb shelters, and then a few minutes later we hear the sirens. And then they tell us when we can all come out.

“It has been stressful,” Mr. Katz said.

Because they have to stay close to a shelter, the family hasn’t gone out much, he continued. “We have to stay close together as a cluster. Going out isn’t encouraged. We are told that we are supposed to be near shelter close to home if not at home.” There aren’t many places to go, anyway. “The majority of stores still are closed. I’m looking at a shopping center right across from my window. There are about seven stores there, and only the convenience store is open.”

What about food? “The first day after was a Friday, and we had to get food for Shabbes,” Mr. Katz said. “It was very slim pickings. We walked around looking for something open, but nothing was. Nobody was opening early in the morning; a few opened later that day, but the majority were not open.

“Usually, Ben Yehuda” — the Jerusalem street that draws Israelis and tourists to its stores and restaurants, and its nightlife — “is bustling. We went there to get some dinner on Saturday night, and it was practically empty. There were only about three or four open stores — one convenience store, one food store. And even when places are open, you are not allowed to eat there. You have to take whatever you buy to go.

“That’s because they don’t want you sitting there. They don’t want you to spend much time outside.

“Yesterday my wife and son went to Machane Yehuda” — the market where you can buy all kinds of exotic or comforting or surprising or simply delicious food to bring home or sit and eat there, as you watch the ever-shifting, always fascinating crowds — “to get some supplies for the apartment, and there was an alarm.

“So they ran to one of the nearby hotels, and the people there pulled them in. They were so helpful! Everybody is helpful to everybody. We all recognize that we’re in this together.”

Mr. Katz talked about some of the problems that arise, necessarily, when you can’t get home. “We were supposed to be in Israel for seven days, so I packed enough of the medication I need for 10 days.

“Today, one of my wife’s projects was to try to get those prescriptions here. She found an Israeli doctor and a pharmacist.” The Katzes were able to get what they needed; everyone tried to streamline the process as much as possible. Still, it’s nerve-wracking, Mr. Katz said — but then he’s an American.

“I think that most people are going about their daily lives,” he said. “For Israelis, this is just another day. It’s not that different from the last year and a half, with the sirens blaring, but this time it’s a different enemy shooting at them.”

He and his family also feel safe, Mr. Katz said. “We are following all the rules and protocols that the Israeli government is telling us to follow.

“But my daughter is having the hardest time,” he added. “She’s 12. Her friends are doing all the end-of-year stuff at school. And she’s missing the bat mitzvahs. That’s really hard for her.

“I’m already working. I’ve set up my days; I’m taking meetings and have already had three Zoom calls today. I’m trying to make sure that as much as possible I can get back to normal.”

It’s similar to the pandemic, he said. “We’re required to stay together, and there is a lot of food.” And that brings the eternal challenge — how not to gain weight, given all that food.

As far as he knows, non-Israelis stuck in Israel have places to stay, but that can change, Mr. Katz said. Visitors can stay in their hotel rooms or Airbnbs unless someone else reserved them — and of course if that someone else has been able to make it into Israel. There’s always the question of how everyone will be able to pay these unexpected, possibly budget-busting bills, but the question hasn’t arisen yet.

There are unconventional ways to get out of Israel, Mr. Katz reported. “I’m getting tons of texts from people who are trying to get out, sharing information, and offering all kinds of things. I got an email offering a seven-person boat and a skipper; it’s going to Greece.”

Mr. Katz did not jump at that one. The family has so much luggage, he joked, that it would sink a small boat.

But he has not asked United Airlines, which he flew to Israel and planned to fly home, for a refund. “United canceled all its flights here,” Mr. Katz said. But United also says that it can fly people home once they got to somewhere where the carrier is still operational. “If I’m in Paris, or Athens, or Amsterdam, I can get on a United flight. But United can’t get me to any of those places. Basically, they’re saying ‘You get there,’” to a United desk in one of those cities, “and then call us,’” Mr. Katz said.

“But we need a plan B. Someone is trying to charter a big boat right now, for 60 people.” They’d go to somewhere with a functioning airport, and then fly home. “But we haven’t landed on an option yet.”

So for now, the Katzes are in Israel. And they plan to emulate the characteristic that they see all around them: Resiliency.