“We now share a common destiny”

Since the day they escaped death, October 7, 2023, Yaniv and Anita Meoded have owned two silver chains. The first “Nova” poster, in calligraphic capital letters. It recalls their attachment to this trance festival, a subgenre of electronic music, organized in the Israeli desert, near the Gaza Strip. For the 42-year-old plumber, a long-time fan of metal, these evenings had finally allowed him to find musical common ground with his wife, a 45-year-old piano teacher, trained at the conservatory. The second jewel represents the pick-up in which the couple managed to flee the terrorist attack, during which 364 festival-goers, out of some four thousand participants, were killed by Hamas.

That morning, Yaniv, who suffers from avascular necrosis, a serious bone disease, was enjoying music on a raised chair and moving around only with the help of crutches, supported by his wife. When the first rockets cracked the sky, at 6:29 a.m., they imagined themselves condemned to this corner of sand, far from their three children, Thea (20 years old), Barak (13 years old) and Lahav (12 years old). Hidden for a long time in the bushes and paralyzed by the ever-closer gunfire, Anita and Yaniv only owed their survival to this vehicle which managed to zigzag through “horror”, before picking them up with fifteen other people. “With this small group, we now share a common destiny,” slips Yaniv Meoded. For “never forget”, several of them often meet around barbecues and beers, at their homes or, like this July 31, near an artificial lake south of Tel Aviv. And now, these seventeen survivors all wear the same silver chains.

At the edge of the body of water, several hundred survivors meet every week for a “day of caring”. Checkered pants and dreadlocks on his shoulders, Yaniv Meoded says he hesitated before going to this miniature Tribe of Nova festival. He hoped to be able to put some distance with October 7 and its 1,195 deaths, to resume the course of his existence. But everything keeps bringing him back to that dark day. Even the sound of a falling tree branch reminds him of the sharp sound of assault rifle fire. He can calm his anxieties by smoking joints “all day”, the memory of the tragedy seeps into any conversation, especially after a few beers.

He and Anita finally chose to miss almost none of these meetings with the miraculous. They talk about their suffering and help each other. Some, whose memory is failing due to the trauma, transcribe their own story in small notebooks. “Survivors have not been able to leave their homes since last year, assures Yaniv Meoded, his eyes misty behind his glasses. So we try to bring them into this safe and caring space. »

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