Nani Haim Tibi

Yearly Trip

   “Every year, from now on,” Said Hagit our teacher, “you will be having a trip somewhere. At first it will be a short trip for a few hours but when you grow up it could be for a few days.”
 “Nice!” I said I love trips.
 “This year, I mean, next week,” continued Hagit, “Sunday, I want you to come to school without your books or notebooks. But bring some extra food and a water canteen. We will be going on a local trip by foot to Kfar Vitkin and also visit the ‘House of the First’. You should all have comfortable shoes and a hat. No flipflops, which are banned from school anyway.”

    I was very excited; we never went on a trip. Well, except with our parents and the rest of our class on “Yom HaZikaron” our Memorial Day, to the memorial square in Netanya. This time we were going on a trip with our teacher and 2 chaperoning parents. No bus ride, we took a long hike. Our school was at the edge of our neighborhood. Behind it was just sand dunes for a long distance. We started walking north of our school on the sand dunes. It was a warm day; we don’t have many rainy days in the month of May, if at all, so we all were wearing hats – most of us “Kova Tembel” loosely translated “stupid hat”. It was an Israeli symbol, a blue cotton hat. We had a canteen with water and our lunch on our shoulder bags.
 “Keep in line,” said Hagit. “Rina! Don’t lag behind, we should all stay together.”
 “But look Hagit,” answered Rina Margarina. It’s a skull, like in the western movie I saw yesterday.”
Sure enough, it was a cow’s Skull. All dried up and white as a paper. We all looked at it in awe.
“All right kids, time to keep going we have a long way in front of us and a lot to see,” said Hagit.

   About an hour after we left our school, we arrived to Kfar Vitkin.
 “This is my house, the one at the edge of the village, right in front of us.” Hagit was very proud to point up. “Look, right in the back here is the cowshed. We raise cows for milk. I want you to meet my husband, he will show you how we milk the cows and what we do with the milk.”

    Hagit’s husband was very friendly (I think even more that his wife) he showed us how they milk the cows by hands and how they do it with a machine. We saw how they bring food to the cows and even how they clean up after them. I must tell you; the smell was not so pleasant. But after a while you kind of get used to it. He showed us how they keep the milk in a big tank and how they transfer it to big containers to ship them to the market. After that we all went to her house and Hagit served us cookies and cold raspberry juice, and we left to walk back toward our school.

    We had one more stop on the way, “The House of the First”. It was an old stone house on top of a small hill. It was empty and decapitated. The floor was broken up with cracks and sand all over, the windows were shattered and outside of the house was a very old truck and some rusted plow.
 “This house is called ‘the house of the first’ because many years ago a group of new immigrants decided to come to Israel and rebuild it. Said Hagit, “this group was about 20 people who bought it from a Lebanese man and started to work the land. Unfortunately, almost all of them got very sick with Malaria from the mosquitos who were all over the place around this land. This land was mostly swamps. Most of the immigrants died, and only later when a next group arrived, they brought with them the Eucalyptus plants. The trees required a lot of water and were a great way to dry the swamps. After that people have spread around and built other houses. – including my house,” said Hagit proudly. Later, it became a school for the resistance who fought against the Arabs in the war of independence.”

    By the time we got back to our school it was time to go home. We all had stories to tell our parents and we couldn’t wait to see where we will go the following year.

 

***

What Homework?

   “What about your homework?” asked Hagit our teacher.
“I didn't do it. It is too confusing.” I said.
“What so confusing about it? All you had to do was to copy exactly what you wrote in class yesterday.” 
“Well, it's exactly that ...” I said with half a smile on my face.
“Let me see your notebook.” I handed it to her unwillingly.
“That is all you wrote?” she almost screamed. “A word and a half?”
“Well, like I said, it was confusing.”
“What was confusing? All you had to do was to copy what's on the black board.”
“I wasn't paying attention; I think I kind of fell asleep. It was boring!”
That was it, Hagit lost it. I don't quite remember what she said but it wasn't fun I am sure she was yelling and screaming at me all I remember was the yelling. “I am going to give you a note to take to your Mom,” she said. “You give it to her and make sure she reads it and comes to talk to me tomorrow.
I took the note and put it in my pocket.

    On the way home I kept on thinking, “What is it about this note? My Mom Can't read it nor my Dad – they don't read Hebrew; Even I have a problem reading it. I always had hard time reading. I never volunteered to read in class, and no one ever helped me. I was the “slow kid, the hopeless one, the different one, not the Ashkenazi one.” I took the note out of my pocket, dug a small hole in the ground and buried it in. What I didn't know was that Yona the dirty kid saw me, waited until I left, dug it out and gave it back to the teacher. The next morning Hagit faced me and said “I am walking you home today. I will talk to your mom myself.”

     That afternoon we walked silently back home, and I had to hide a bit when she was talking to my mom. All I could hear was Hagit telling mom that they should stop talking French to me because it confuses me, and I will never learn Hebrew that way.

    “Wait till your dad shows up this afternoon. You kept on telling me you had no homework while your teacher here tells me you had plenty every day.”
It was Friday afternoon; Dad came home early for Shabat. Do I have to tell you? He wasn't happy. “You are not eating dinner with us tonight,” he said. You will be spending the night outside in the shed where people who don't tell the truth stay, and you will be having your dinner there too.”

    That evening, after I showered and dressed up with the fresh pajamas, I took a blanket, my dinner plate and Dad ceremoniously walked me to the shed next to Grandma Okev lived. “You will spend the night here alone.” He said. He stayed outside a few feet away from the shed watching over me. I know because I heard him through the thin walls of the shed, and I even smelled his cigarette.

    I finished my dinner and tried to sleep on the floor when he walked in. It was so quiet we could even hear Grandma Okev snoring.
  “Did you learn your lesson?” He asked. “We don't lie, we do our homework, and we listen to our teachers. Is that clear? Or next time you will feel my belt on your behind... Get your stuff and come home.” Obviously, he didn't want to stand outside the shed all night...

 

***

Shavuot Pilgrimage

    “In three days, we will be celebrating Shavuot,” announced Hagit, “The school will be closed but on the day after tomorrow we will celebrate it with our main school in Avihayil.”
 “Are we going to have classes in Avihayil?” Asked Shlomo Yarhi.
 “No dear,” she answered, “after school you will be going home to change, and we will meet here, for the parade.”

   “Mom!” I need your help; I need to get ready for the parade.”
 “What parade?”
 “Look at the note,” I said.
 “What Note? You know I can’t read Hebrew, what does it say?”
“We have a parade today at 5:00 to Avihayil. We need to dress in white and we need a wreath on our head. Oh, we also need some fruit and vegetables to donate. I will put them during the basket we made in arts and craft class. They will be selling them in an auction to raise money for our school.”
   At 5:00PM we were all lined up in pairs. All dressed in white I stood with Shlomo Yarhi, right behind Avi Dagan and Dafna. We all had our wreath, even the 4th graders. Mine was made out of an olive branch with a thin strip of the palm tree. My basket was full of oranges, apples, tomatoes, and cucumbers. 2 of each.
 “Where is your drink?” Asked Shlomo Yarhi.
 “I didn’t bring any.”
 “Did you forget?”
 “No, my Mom said I shouldn’t drink, she thinks I will sweat and catch a cold.”
 “That’s stupid!” He proclaimed.
 “Don’t call me stupid!”
 “I didn’t, it was your Mom who told you…”
I didn’t want to answer him. I was getting thirsty already.

   The walk to Avihayil was about 2 miles and it would have taken us almost an hour to get there. Except the incident on the way with Rachel from the second grade. Apparently, her Mom also thought it was a bad Idea to drink water. We were singing all the way up the long hill leading to Avihayil Songs for Shavuot, songs about our school, about shabbat and just popular songs. Rina Margarina was the best singer.

    The first group leading our parade were the 4th grade all carrying their baskets on their shoulders, singing; “Saleinu Al Kteifeinu,” – our baskets are on our shoulders. Behind them walked proudly the 3rd grade and they were carrying a little smaller basket. The second grade were loud and rowdy. Their teacher had a hard time keeping them in order. It took the school principal a few times to ride back and forth on his “Vespa” and yelling at them for them to line up and shut up. We were the last group trying not to follow in the second grade’s mischief. But then we heard yells and screams. Rachel collapsed. The principal rode back and asked for water from the teacher. And poured it on Rachel’s head. After a short while she got up and someone had to walk her back home.

    At Avihayil we got very excited when we walked under their famous big oak tree that shaded the whole entrance over the road and the sidewalk. It felt like we were walking into a refrigerator. The difference in the temperature was obvious. We sat on the grass facing the stage where it was decorated with piles of hay and big tractors pulling carts full of produce drove in front of the stage just before the performance. They had the choral singing summer songs and even an Israeli folk dance company came to perform for us. Despite the incident with Rachel, we were all in a good mood. Right at the front of the stage where we placed our offerings, we saw some big baskets with all kinds of goodies. When we finally started the auction, our teacher signaled us to start gathering and walk back home.

    Dad was waiting for me at the school when we finally arrived. I was exhausted and he put me on his shoulder.
 “Dad” I said.
 “What”
 “Can I have water next time we go on a march like today?” I am very thirsty, and Rachel fainted. She dried up.”
 “Sure.”

 

***

Keitana

    Just before the summer vacation we moved to a new house in the “Se’ora” Street – Barley Street. This neighborhood had streets named after the seven important species of Israel. Like Date, Fig, Pomegranate, Wheat, Barley, Grapes, and Olives. Each had a street. They were mostly short streets and I had friends in every street who went to school with me. Mom had to continue work for half a day to be able to pay the rent and to be able to save for a house of our own. So, she had a plan for us kids. Avi stayed with his friend Moshiko at their house and his mom watched over him. I was to go to a morning “Keitana” - Day Camp. The town of Netanya like other towns, sponsored a day camp so people could send their kids cheaply for some activities. Of course, there were other private day camps, but they were too expensive for us.

   To tell you the truth, I hated it. First, I had to take a bus to the camp which was in the southern outskirts of our town in an old British Army camp called Toubrook from before Israel’s independence. The bus was overcrowded, even in the station there where so many kids they stepped on my feet. I was wearing flipflops, so every day I would get more blacks and blues all over my body. The only thing I liked was the arts and crafts, sort of. We made very simple projects. Using a mix of flour, water and paper we made all kind of statues and masks. I didn’t like the soccer games or basketball. In short, I didn’t like any of the activities. We were all spread in tents around the campground, each grade group in a tent. We had worst bathrooms than the one we had in the old shack. They reminded me the one I saw at the army camp with uncle Rone, just worse. They were stinky narrow cabins with a big hole in the bottom. Deep in the bottom they had limestone powder. I was always afraid to fall in. The worse part was the food. Everything was dairy. Bread with cheese, bread with butter, a container of yogurt or heavy cream. You know, I don’t eat milk products. I hated eating it anyway but having to smell that was too much for me. The first day I went home hungry, so mom prepared a tuna sandwich for me for the next day.

    The next day wasn’t much better. Except for the small airplanes who were flying low over us for some reason.

    “Auch!” I heard Just before lunch time. And then a girl was screaming and crying. Five minute later we heard an ambulance.
 “What Happened?” I asked.
 “Scorpion,” was the answer, “a yellow scorpion.”
The girl was stung by a dangerous yellow scorpion and was rushed to the hospital.
 “I don’t care how much you paid for that camp, Mom,” I said when I got home. I was full of tears. “I hate it there!” And today we had a bad scorpion stinging one girl. She went to the hospital; she could have died. They told us scorpions are hiding under the rocks in the heat. I don’t want to die. I am not going back.”
 “OK” said Mom. “Your brother doesn’t get along with Moshiko anyway so you two will have to stay home together. But no more acting up with crazy things like you did at the Okevs’. You are a big boy now!”

    The rest of the summer we spent playing with the neighbor’s kids. An old lady at the front of our street came to check on us every so often and made sure we ate lunch before Mom came back from work. The best part was when Dad came back from work. We would collect big white snails on the way to the shore and use them for bait for fishing. We didn’t have time to look for worms.

***

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