METULLA, ISRAEL — “When you told them you were coming to Israel,” Kobi Marom said, “I’m sure you’re neighbors said, ‘Are you crazy?’ ”

Standing on a promontory in this northernmost outpost of Israel, the former Israeli Defense For- ces colonel pointed to a small town on the other side of a fertile valley. Hidden there beneath the red-roofed homes of civilians, he said, were members of Hezbollah, the Muslim militant group dedicated to the elimination of Israel.

“They hide beneath the houses because they know we will not bomb them,” Col. Marom explained. The town is a quarter of a mile away, a mere chip shot for some of the 50,000 missiles he estimates are pointed toward his country.

Whether or not your neighbors question your sanity, security is an unavoidable topic for any visitor to Israel. And for Israelis themselves.

“Some people think I’m crazy for living in Gaza,” says Raz Shmilovich, who operates a family-owned farm in that disputed region, which just last week was the target of Hamas attacks.

As if any are needed, there are frequent reminders that this is a country living in a tough neighborhood. Taxis halted short of hotel entrances to have their trunks opened. Armed soldiers — young men and women — virtually everywhere. When you walk through the lobby of an upscale Tel Aviv hotel and see a soldier sitting in the lounge with an M16 across his lap and a martini glass in his hand, you know you’re not in Ohio anymore.

Within hours of arriving in Jerusalem, several in our group of American tourists flinched when we heard what sounded like gunfire. But the “shots,” our guide assured us, actually were fireworks celebrating a Jordanian wedding.

A few days later, outside a synagogue we heard an explosion in the distance. “Probably a 10-year-old’s backpack being blown up,” Rabbi Yossi Zweiback speculated. “If you leave a suspicious object unattended, they’ll call the bomb squad to detonate it. That happens about twice a week.

“You have to be vigilant in a way you don’t have to be elsewhere,” added the rabbi, who moved to Jerusalem from Omaha three years ago. “Vigilance pays off.”

Still, for visitors and residents alike, life goes on. And very pleasantly so. Tourists flock to religious and historic sites. Restaurants and businesses thrive. In teeming, colorful bazaars — with everything from men smoking hookahs to capitalists selling knockoff Cleveland Browns T-shirts — the greatest danger is being jostled to death.

“In spite of the challenges, we are strong enough to live an almost normal life,” Col. Marom said. “It’s not Switzerland, but it’s not so bad.”

Contact this columnist at dlstew_2000@yahoo.com.