There was a bomb shelter drill at school today. Protocol was to lay down on the ground and put our hands over our head. After this, the sixth grade students with bright yellow traffic vests directed the children into bomb shelters underneath the classrooms. Below ground there were big heavy duty doors. The shelter was painted light blue, child friendly, with some toys and chairs and rugs. We crammed into the room and sat down Indian style waiting for directions from the principal. Looking around the room, I noticed that the students were participating mindlessly, just as I would have done during an earthquake drill when I was younger. Some were playing hand games, some were giggling with friends, while others were being reprimanded by screaming teachers. (It's normal for teachers to scream at the children). I wondered if these kids even knew what was going on; if they understood the repercussions of living in a war zone in the Middle East.
After the drill, school resumed. It was recess. The children went outside to play. The rest of us went on with our day.
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