Nani Haim Tibi

HaSe’ora 5

   Ever since we moved to this rented house it seems like our financial status was getting slowly better. This house was on a large private land with 2 large bedrooms. One was our parent’s room and the other one was Avi’s with all of our toys. My bed was set up in the foyer. Mom was working ½ a day and Dad started to bring work home. He returned part time to his original love - Jewelry making. Dad and I collected wood that floats on the beach and with the few big pieces we found, we managed to build a jeweler’s bench and put it at the far side of the foyer where he would work every day after he came back from the daily job he had. Working hard and many hours Mom and Dad were saving money to finally buy our own house or apartment.

   The back yard had a nice collection of trees; a date palm tree right in the center front, a big old olive tree on the right of the hose bordering with our neighbor. On the front left side, we had a guava tree and a rare fruit called “Annona - sweet apple” it had a peal that looked like dragon scales and the inside was white, juicy, and sweet with big black seeds. Going back to the left side of the house we had a two in one tree, it was a grapefruit and sweet lemon tree. Behind the house we had a huge tree with many round uneatable fruits that looked like olives. Avi and I loved to play with them. For us they were ammunition we would shoot with a tube or in our fake fruit for our pretend packing plant, where we would pack the fruit to be sent over sea.

   Behind the big tree we had a small hill with grape vine, apple tree and peach tree. They rarely had any fruit - the birds would eat them before they had a chance to ripen. At the far back bordering our other neighbor grew a Mexican cactus with small red cactus fruit. Dad was telling me not to eat them, but I did anyway. They were red and juicy with a little less thorn than the popular “Sabres”. Next to them stood two tall pine trees. We used to pick the cones and throw them in fire to open them and get the pine nuts out of them. The pine needles were thick and strong, we liked to make decorative chains with them. On top of one of them we spotted a nest. Avi immediately wanted to go grab the baby chicks. No matter what I said to prevent him from doing so he didn’t give up.
  “It is a crows’ nest” I said. “They are dangerous, don’t you remember the story about the boy who got pecked by the crow and he fell down?” I reminded him, to no avail.

    Avi Climbed up to the top – he was fearless – while I was yelling at him to come back. He came back alright, lucky for him there were no crows and no chicks. The nest was empty for a while now. Except for a few eggshells nothing was in that nest.

   Every summer people in Israel get 2 weeks off from work, usually around the month of August. Our family from Beer Sheva love to visit us during this time and spend time with us on the beach. This time mom was very proud to show of her new refrigerator. Until then we had an ice box. It is like the refrigerator but without the actual motor or lights. Every day the Ice would be delivered by the ice cart who would drive around town and sell blocks of ice. We usually buy ½ a block daily. It kept for a day. The ice would melt and drain into a container which we would dump every day. But the next day we would need to restock the ice. The problem was in the weekend. There was no delivery on Shabat. We would have to make sure nothing that could go bad stay in the ice box. we had to eat all the food Mom made on Friday.

   Now we had the new “Amkor” Israeli made refrigerator. We didn’t have to buy anymore ice; we could keep the food for longer and even the meat, or the milk would last through the weekend. So, with all the guests who came to visit we could keep food for all of them and not worry.

   That summer we had a full house. I don’t know how we fit them all. We had Uncle David (Mom’s Younger brother) and his wife Rina and baby Momi. Momi fell of his bed as a baby and lost the vision of one of his eyes. He became a very disagreeable child. David and Rina brought with them also her younger sister Na’ama who was a little older than me.  Uncle Rone and his wife Rachel with their little girl Batyah. All of us went to the beach together. We carried sandwiches and cut up watermelons as well as my Dad’s fishing gear.

   When we return home, we were faced with a little problem, shower. How are we all going to shower when we had a small sun heated water tank. Mom came up with the idea of just having everyone shower with the hose outside in our yard. We were having lots of fun, especially the kids, except for Aunt Rina.

    She insisted on showering indoors with the hot water and on top of it finishing all the hot water and living a “mess” according to my Mom. This wasn’t fun. Mom and Aunt Rina got into an argument and a shouting match that lasted for a long time. Mom never forgave her for talking back at her when she was a guest at our house. They stopped talking to each other forever. It put us in a very odd and uncomfortable situation. Uncle David was my Moms favorite brother, and it was hard for him to take sides. Somehow, they managed to be civilized and keep the family together. Many times, later, Uncle David would come to visit without his wife, or we would go to visit him without Mom. It kept the family at peace.

 

***

 

Nahal Alexander

   If you were looking for a romantic place where you can take your girlfriend or wife at night, or even a place where you can take you your kids for a quite relaxing afternoon on the water you would go to “Nahal Alexander.” A river named after Alexander the great. It was a bout ½ hour bus ride north of Netanya. A short walk from the station would bring you to an interesting restaurant on the northern side of the river. It had a big aquarium filled with a shark in formaldehyde. Yes, a real dead shark. We would look at it mesmerized every time we stop there and wonder; how can anybody eat with that smell in the air. Next to the restaurant was a nice wooden dock with wooden rowboats lined up for rent. Some were for two and some for four or even six. Depending on the size of your group. Further away at the end of the dock was a smaller extension where fishermen stood and tried to catch some fish.

   Mom, Dad, Avi and I went to Nahal Alexander on one Saturday afternoon. We rented a boat, but Mom didn’t go on it.
 “I have to set our spot closer to the shore so we can have a place to eat,” she said. But we all knew she was afraid to go on the shaky boat. Maybe it was the bad experience she had when they came on the boat to Israel, and she got seasick.

   After half hour of rowing up the river we docked and joined Mom at the shore. Avi and I took a walk to see where the river drains into the sea. The water was shallow, very shallow. We could see the fish swimming between the sea and the river in the brackish water. We crossed the river to the other side and started running all over the place. We both loved that stretch of clean sand dunes. This area was not developed. We could see the village far away to the south with the small houses of the farmers. Avi and I would climb to a small sand hill and roll down toward the beach. Until we heard Mom calling us to get back for dinner.

   Dinner was light, tuna sandwiches and watermelon for dessert. As Mom and Dad were packing up, I found a glass jar and picked it up. I went back to the river and with a few swipes was able to catch a small fish in the jar. It was a small, a little bigger than a tadpole.
 “Can I take it home?” I asked.
 “Yes,” Said Dad, “this one will survive if you feed him and make sure the jar is clean. Unlike saltwater fish who die quickly in captivity. So, this will be your responsibility.”
 “Thanks Dad!”

    On the way back I was holding the jar close to my body making sure it doesn’t splash all over the bus. At home we kept the jar on the windowsill in the kitchen, right above the sink. This way I can see it every day and change the water when needed without making a mess. Fish, as I called him survived and lived with us a few months. I was changing his water weekly and feeding him breadcrumbs daily.

   One day, Lea, my favorite teacher asked us to bring something to show and tell from home. Everybody brought a toy or a book, but I brought Fish. I was very careful walking all the way to the school, walking slowly to make sure I don’t spill the water and when I arrived at school, I put him on my desk for all to see.

   We all had our chance to show and tell and I told the class how I fished Fish and how I have been taking care of him. Everybody came to look at the fish closely and was very impressed.

Unfortunately, Shlomo Yarhi wanted to look at it too many times. I had to put it in the shelve under the desk, but he kept on creeping and puling it out to look at it.

   “Today we will learn about two visitors who come to Israel. One in the winter and one in the summer. These are two birds. The wagtail who comes to visit us in the winter all the way from Siberia. Would you please put that fish away!” Yelled Lea in the middle of her story. “this is the last time that I am telling you, Haim! The other bird,” she continued, Is the hoopoe bird. It comes to us all the way from India and stays here for the summer.”
You might think that Shlomo would listen to the teacher’s warnings. Well, you are wrong. Again, he creeped and pulled the fish out of the shelve and this time put it on his desk. Lea walked fast, grabbed the jar and poured it out the window.

    I didn’t stopped crying, all the way home and all night after that. Mom, for the first time had to come to school with me the next morning and confront the teacher whom as you might guess was not my favorite person anymore, even after her apology.

***

Court House

    "Look at this," said Mom as she opened the mail. "You've got an invitation to appear in court. It says Mr. Nani Haim Tibi you are subpoenaed to appear at The Court of Peace on 9 am., Monday, January 5th.
 "What is it all about?" I asked.
 "It's probably about the accident you witnessed."
 "What accident?"
 "Last year. The one with the boy and the bulldozer. The one you saved. The one you kept on talking about for six months."
 "I did not," I responded defensively. “It wasn't my fault that everybody kept asking me about it.”
 "Anyway, you have to go to court, and probably you'll have to tell the story again, and I'm sure you're going to like it."
 "But Mom", I said, "what about school?"
 "I'll have to give you a note so your teacher can excuse you from school on that day. You'll have to go to your girlfriend Dafna and ask her for your homework."
 "She is not my girlfriend," I said defensively again.
 "That's not important," said Mom. "What's important is that you get the homework."

    When the day arrived, I was up before Mom and Dad. I didn't sleep very well anyway. All night I was thinking about my teacher and how she responded when I told her about my subpoena.
 "I'm so proud of you," she said to me as she patted me on the shoulder. "You're going to do just fine, and we'll wait for you to come back and tell us all about it."

    She was so pretty; she was even prettier than Mom. I used to love that teacher, before she killed my fish. I wished I were older, so she would love me back. Every time I thought of her, I couldn’t sleep at night. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t lean or do anything.

    I washed up, I wore my new blue pants that Mom made from Dad's old pants, the new white shirt Meme Milli gave me for the holidays, and my new black shiny shoes. Everyone at the bus station looked at me with admiration.
 "Are you getting married?" someone would ask, or they'd say, "Don't you look nice."
 "No, I'm not getting married," silly, "I'm just going to court."
Even the bus driver had something to say. Well, it is not every day you see a child dressed so nicely, especially when it's not a holiday.

     The Court of Peace was downtown next to the Workers' Bank “Bank HaPo’alim”. We entered the court room and were seated in the first row in front of the judge's platform. A few moments later, the court room was full. I saw the bulldozer driver, the armless nasty foreman, and many other people I'd never seen before.

    "Court House!" a bailiff yelled, and everybody stood up. The door behind the judge's desk opened, and His Honor, the judge, walked in. Not before he sat down, were we permitted to sit.
To my surprise. the judge did not start with our case. There were many other cases before he got to ours.

    First, there were some traffic violation cases. (A case is a problem that the judge must solve and rule in favor of or against - I never knew that before.) Then there were cases of married people. For example, a woman sued her husband for beating her. The judge ruled in her favor and the husband had to pay a fine and go to jail for ten days. By this time the woman had a problem with this ruling. Her husband was the sole supporter of the family. If he had to pay the fine, she would not have the money to buy food for his family, and even more so if he goes to jail. Who is going to work and bring money for the family? Well, that's the law and we all have to obey the law. I never understood that.

    "Wake up! Wake up!" Mom whispered, "It' our turn now."
This stuff was boring. No wonder I fell asleep.

    "Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?" I heard the bailiff asking the “tractorist”. (That's what they called the bulldozer driver.)
 "Yes," said the tractorist while holding his right arm up with the left on a Bible. "I swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth."
The driver answered all the questions he was asked by the “categor” and the “sanegor “(the lawyers, one for the family that was suing, and one for the building company that was being sued). He told them how all the children were jumping up and down the pile and how the foreman asked them to get out. How he didn't see the little boy that jumped in right in front of the bulldozer, and how I came out and stopped him. He told everything. He left nothing for me to tell.

    "Nani Haim Tibi, please come to the witness stand!" I heard the bailiff calling. My legs started to shake. I was never on a witness stand. What will happen if I forget something and not say all the truth? Will they send me to jail? I walked slowly to the stand and waited.
 "Do you swear..." the usher started to say and handed me the Bible.
 "Stop!" the judge ordered. "He is too young. He doesn't have to swear. Why don't you tell us what happened on the day of the accident?"
 "But the driver already told you." I said, disappointed.
 "It's O.K. we want to hear it again from someone who saw it all. Someone that we can really trust," the judge continued politely. He was very nice, and I was only too happy to tell him the story right from the beginning.

    I told him how the bulldozer came and made the new pile for us to play in, and how three times the driver destroyed it, after every time he made it. I told him about our decision to play in the new sand pile while they were working so we could enjoy every minute of the pile being there. I also told the judge how nasty the one-armed foreman was and how much he yelled at us. I told him how hard he tried to get us out of our playground. I was hoping that the judge would punish him for being so cruel, but the opposite happened. The judge just thanked me and dismissed the foreman saying he did the best he could, and it was not his fault that the boy was covered with sand. Again, I still don't understand it. Of course, it wasn't his fault that the little boy was covered with sand, but he was still very nasty, and that's not the way to treat children!

 

***

 

Jerusalem
    “Nanou, Avi” Mom called to us, “Put a pile of underwear, socks, your nice Shabat shirt and pants, and a few changing cloths. We are going on a little trip for a few days. I will pack all of it in a suitcase.”
Mom and dad planed a trip for the whole family to Jerusalem. I have never been to Jerusalem. I knew people from Jerusalem. Do you remember “Yehoshua HaParu'aa”? We will be visiting him and his family.
    The way to Jerusalem was not an easy trip. We had to take a bus to the bus station. On the buss we had to stand in the isle because it was full. From there we took another bus to Tel Aviv. On this bus we had to make sure we sat right behind the bus driver or Avi would get seasick and throw up all over. In Tel Aviv we took a short bus ride to the train station. The station was crowded, and it was hard to find a good spot for all of us to sit together. My brother and I had to run along the train and look for a few empty seats for all of us.
    “I want to sit next to the window” exclaimed Avi.
“No problems,” said Dad. “You sit on this side next to Mom and your brother will sit in front of you next to me.” Avi had to sit facing the front and I faced the back. We didn’t want him to throw up again. Once we were settled, I looked out the window and felt a little odd for a moment when the train next to us started to move while we were standing still. It felt like we were moving backward slowly and quietly. But as soon as it picked up speed, I realized it wasn’t us moving.
    The road to Jerusalem was very pretty. Unlike the mostly flat desert road to Be’er Sheva, this road was hilly and full of trees. As we left Tel Aviv, we saw from a distance on the left side the airplanes landing and on the right side the orthodox village “Kfar-Habad”. When we got closer to Jerusalem, we entered a narrow valley at the foot of the hills. It is called “Bab El Wad” – the door of the valley.
  “This is a very famous place” dad told us. “Do you see the building here on the far left? With the Hebrew graffiti on the wall?”
“Yes I do”, I unsewered.
“It is in Jordan territory. We lost it during the war of independent. Look forward on the two sided of the train and next to the road, do you see those abandoned trucks?”
“Yes”, said Avi, “I have a toy like that one”.
“During the war of independence, the Jordanians surrounded Jerusalem and prevented us from going in or out. We had to find way to bring supply to the people under siege. Many Volunteers loaded trucks with food, supply and even water to bring up to the city. We found a side trail and drove up at night, but we were ambushed and most of the trucks you see here were stopped.”
“Did they all die?” asked my young brother.
“unfortunately, most of them. Some were able to reach the city and save the people, but we lost the old city of Jerusalem where our most holy place is and some of the villages surrounding the city.”
   When we arrived at the train station in Jerusalem, we had to take one more bus to the part of the city where Yehoshua’s grandfather lived, “Ein Karem”. It was also a very pretty area where old houses from hundreds of years ago were set along the hill facing west overlooking the beautiful valley. The house of Rabbi Abraham – Yehoshua’s grandfather – was one of those Arab houses. It had a packed dirt floor. His wife would pull water out of the well in the middle of the house to water the floor daily and pack it smooth. The water in that well was undrinkable, it had red thin worms you can see every time she pulled up the bucket. The roof of the house was a round dome and the walls had carved deep shelves. They were beds, lined with straw mattresses and covered with clean white sheets for us to sleep in.
    The next morning the Rabbi’s wife prepared a delicious breakfast. Fresh Cucumber tomato and pepper salad, Scrambled eggs and crispy toast. And from there we started to visit the city. The first place we visited was to the “Church of Visitation” a Franciscan church not too far from the Rabbi’s house. It was walking distance, so we didn’t have to take a bus. We spoke French with the priests, and they showed us around the beautiful old church. It had nice paintings on the entire walls of biblical scenes.
    Not far from there was the famous “Hadassah” hospital and “Mount Hertzel” where we saw the tallest tree in Israel. It was planted by Hertzel the “father” of the Zionist movement himself. A place that is still making me feel sick to my stomach is also not too far from the Rabbi’s house. “Yad Vashem”. A memorial for the victims of the holocaust. We saw awful pictures of the Jews in the death camps and all kind of objects that were collected there, like soap made of human fat, or a pile of shoes or eyeglasses and more. In short, for many years after that, I still had nightmares.
    David’s tower was located right on the border between Israel and Jordan. It towers over a building where King David is buried. I have never been next to the border of any country. Yet it looked just like a road gate with policemen on the other side. They even waved back at me when I waved to them.
    “We will be going to a restaurant today for lunch,” Mom said with a smile.
“Really?” I asked, “we never go to a restaurant.”
“True”, said Dad, “Because Mom cooks much better than any restaurants, and they are very expensive.”
“But we are not home for me to cook”, continued Mom, “so we will go to a sit-down restaurant like regular tourists and eat lunch.”
    I don’t remember the name of the restaurant, but I do remember it was better than Mom’s cooking. Well, it isn’t fair for me to compare, I never liked most of Mom’s cooking. It was either too spicy, too mushy, or simply not to my taste. I hardly ever ate any meat. If it was up to me, I would just live on fruit. But fruit was only for dessert, and only if I finish my dish. And since I usually didn’t finish the dish, I hardly ever got to eat fruit. For a long time, I ate only chicken and before that, when I was sick in the hospital, I ate only chicken broth with a little chicken skin. Until one day it went the wrong way and I stopped eating chicken skin.
   “Now, remember kids, you have to finish the whole plate or no dessert, this is way too expensive to throw away. And the dessert this time is not fruit,” said Mom.
   When the waiter came and asked what we wanted to order, I had no idea what I wanted. There were so many options. One thing for sure I wanted was French fries, Mom hardly made them for us.
   “Why don’t you try this?” Asked Dad. “The calf liver stake” it isn’t tough, and it taste like the chicken liver you like.”
When it arrived, I was shocked how big that piece was. I forced myself to finish it, I was curious about the dessert. It wasn’t bad, but the French fries were much better. That was the first time I actually liked beef but don’t ask me to eat it again. Avi, on the other hand, had no problems eating anything you gave him as long as the plate looked good and clean. For dessert I picked a piece of sideway layered chocolate cake that looked like a pyramid. It was very good and ever since we went to a restaurant I always asked for this cake.
   The next place we visited was the Museum of Israel and the “Knesset” – the Israeli parliament. We did not go in. Both Avi and I and even my dad found it to be too boring to even tireing. We came and saw, now it’s time to leave.
***

 

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