Food for the Jewish sabbath outweighed security concerns for Israelis who returned yesterday to a Jerusalem street market where Arab suicide bombers killed 13 people on Wednesday. As life went on in the Mahaneh Yehuda vegetable market, mourners filled cemeteries for the funerals of victims of the deadliest attack on Israelis in more than a year.
"The whole family is coming tomorrow and I have to make a big dinner. I have to shop at the market," said Pnina Ashkenazi. "I usually do my shopping on Wednesdays. Yesterday, I had to take care of my grandson and that was my luck," she said.
City workers spent the night removing debris and cleaning a covered passage in the market which the two bombers, positioned at both ends, turned into a corridor of death.
Memorial candles flickered on a makeshift shrine at the spot where one of the bombs went off. Walls were plastered with black-bordered funeral notices. "We mourn the death of Sami Malka who died in a murderous and criminal attack," read one.
At a cemetery overlooking the Judean hills, Malka's wife Ariella spoke to her husband at his graveside. "Sami, listen. Don't worry about Bar," she said in a calm voice, referring to their threeyear-old son. "I will take care of him . . . but I ask you to watch over us, the whole family and nation, from above."
Then reality hit and she broke down in tears: "What a shame I am saying goodbye to you. What a pity."
In the market, a vendor stood inside his shop peering out through an open space where his storefront window used to be. Shoe boxes spilled out of a stall into the alley and workers sorted through them to find matching pairs.
Two shopkeepers argued over the wisdom of employing Arab workers. "I don't care if I have to pay an additional 1,000 shekels [£195] a month, I'll employ Russian Jews," said one.
"You don't know what you are talking about. My Arab employees can come back today, as far as I'm concerned," his colleague replied.
Israel closed the West Bank and Gaza Strip, preventing thousands of Palestinians from going to work in the Jewish state.
Among Jewish shoppers in the market, the mood was a mixture of resignation and defiance.
"What can I do? I have to shop for the sabbath," said Meir Cohen as he picked out tomatoes in the huge market in which long-time Jewish residents of Jerusalem say the heart of the city beats.
Miriam Goldberg said Arab bombs would not drive her away. "These barbarians, animals of prey, want to throw us out of the country. We won't go." But she lamented: "How much longer? How much longer?" - (Reuter)