Since this morning, reports have been circulating in all media outlets about the approaching snow. The reports come in a serious tone: the roads are closing, opening; the atmosphere is like an atmosphere of war. The north is closed due to the snow, Highway 443 will be partially opened to traffic, we are calling on the public not to travel on the roads, residents rushed to enter their homes before the storm. It reminded me of the atmosphere of 'Protective Edge', when every hour the media announced the closure of various roads due to the shooting? Maybe someone will start reporting on the snow in an atmosphere of joy and happiness. Do you know how many people smiled today and didn't go to work?
The smile on their faces. They are soldiers, who needs a coat? Not to mention a sweater or vest. Everything is fine, not cold, the hats on their heads are waving with braids in all directions. "Oh, are you taking pictures of us like we are soldiers, and we have wigs?" - they asked. I didn't have time to answer. They rushed to the central station. It was really freezing outside.
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Inside the tractor, in charge of Sector 15 near the Nation Buildings. He is covered with a pillow, blanket and heating. An attempt to communicate with him, to have him open a window to ask him how long he has been sitting there waiting for snow, bears no fruit. He waves his phone and shows me the screen. I interrupt him from completing a level in Candy Crush...
""I'm cold," he shouted. I looked in that direction. I didn't have much to offer him, certainly not how to warm up. But the friend with the IDF uniform didn't think twice: he hugged him and started dancing until he warmed up.
A snowplow, not a tractor, is parked next to the string bridge, in the parking lot of the post office building. Here too, the attempt to talk to the driver fails. With desperate hand gestures from inside the driver's cabin, he signals that he is not opening the window.
They are in a hurry to get out of the city. Intercity public transportation is being reduced and they are really stressed to get there. At the entrance to the city, there is already a huge convoy of graders and tractors, getting ready, waiting for the snow. In the meantime, the details about the condition of the roads leaving Jerusalem have been removed from the digital sign, to prevent drivers from leaving the city.
I try again at the entrance to the city to talk to a grader driver, but again without success. They literally barricade themselves in the driver's cabins, refusing to talk. What I asked for: to hear how they feel about this long wait for snow.
The tractor driver in the picture says to me: "What? What do you want to ask everyone?" I answer: I just wanted to know how it feels inside the tractor. "I'll tell you what it feels like." His name is Imad. "The feeling is bad, tarry, all year we've been sabotaging yellow vehicles, and now we're suddenly angels... It's a tarry feeling, maybe the white snow will come and erase our feelings.".
The buses have stopped running, the digital displays still show that the lines are on their way, but the four minutes I wait for the line to take me home turn into four long, endless minutes. The train is still crawling along, and passengers who are already freezing from the cold are hailing taxis. From the side, the way they are dressed, it looks like an undercover operation on a hostile taxi in the heart of Jerusalem.
French Hill Junction. A last attempt to talk to a tractor driver waiting for the snow. But here too the attempt was unsuccessful. He was fast asleep, with only his legs dangling over the steering wheel in the front window.
