Real life in a conflict zone can never be reflected by the media; things you see from there are different from here. Concrete barricades surround the small building, the place is fenced off and there is just one entry. There is an iron gate with a small buzzer on the side and an intercom.

If you want to go inside you need to wait for the guard to come and let you in. The concrete barricades are painted with joyful colors with lots of flowers and butterflies decorate it, trying to hide reality. It looks like an ordinary building in the routine view of the western Negev, Israel.

A small child is trying to climb the fence, "Look, mommy! I can go inside by myself," he’s saying to his impatient mother who buzzes the intercom for a few minutes, waiting for the guard to come and open the gate.

In the small kindergarten in kibbutz Mefalsim, it’s just another ordinary day in the routine life of the residents living in a conflict zone. When there are high-risk situations, the children are not allowed to go outside, not even to the playground close to their kindergarten.

THE 'QUASSAM' MISSILE

For the last eight years this ‘special’ situation made these people and especially the children become more anxious and mentally flexible.

According to the directions given by the Home Front Command and the citizen defense, each house or building in the conflict zone has to have a Residential Secure Space. For the residents of the western Negev, the destruction of houses to add safety rooms serving as a shared bedroom for a whole family is very normal. The ability to find a safe place in 15 seconds is just part of the routine. The ‘qassam’ missile an important part of every day life.

The most popular game among the children is simulating the public announcement system ‘red color.’ Three-year-old children are running to the corners of the room and shouting "Red color!" laughing at the echo, and the smaller children imitate them by mumbling out loud "red, red."

When the real alarm is sounded, they look at each other. The older children run and cry and the smaller ones seem amused, as it's just a game for them. They are shouting with the kindergarten teacher "red color red tushi," dancing and singing and playing the colors game, touching all the things that are blue or green.

"We are in a war against the Arabs; they are trying to kill us with the ‘qassam’ missiles," says four-year-old Rotem while he is demonstrating fighting methods to me.

CHILDREN IN SHOCK

Four months ago a ‘qassam’ missile fell in the entry of the kindergarten.

"The windows shattered, branches from the old oak tree has been scattered all over and the kids were hysterical," Ruth Polanski, the kindergarten teacher, told me.

"We gathered all the children in one room. They were terrified. I felt so bad, why are these innocent children exposed to fear, hate, war and ‘qassam’ missiles?" she asked rhetorically.

"Take Noam for example, a beautiful three-year-old, he lives in Sderot and he's experiencing the missiles every day. Any noise makes him jumpy. He is very hyperactive, running and moving all thetime. He’s very restless. We are treating him carefully, and he is seeing a psychologist. In the noon nap he always wakes up crying and wet."

At the end of the day in the small kindergarten everybody gathered around. They were celebrating Alona's birthday. All the children sit in the meeting room, singing and wishing Alona a happy birthday.

"I wish you to be happy and get a lot of gifts," says Amir.

"I wish you will eat a lot of candies," says Nirit and everybody starts to laugh.

"I wish that no ‘qassam’ missile will fall on you," says Bar with a shy smile.»

"I wish you not to die from 'qassam' missile and not to cry when you hear the alarm," whispers Or.

JUST ANOTHER DAY

"Happy birthday," says the kindergarten teacher, interrupting the special greetings. "Be good, healthy and happy," she continues and then starts to sing "happy birthday to you." All the children join her, shouting and laughing. Just another average day in the protected kindergarten.