Teaching Music
December 1 ,2015
Jukitta
Long time ago in a land far, far, away lived a small beetle, “Jukitta” was her name. Dad started to tell us a story. We were all sitting on the floor around him in Aunt Marie’s Back yard. It was one day before Vivi’s Bar-Mitzvah”. Vivi was there with his sister Inez, his brothers Avram and Motke, My cousin Batyah and her baby brother Ofer, My cousin Yudit and her brother Haim, and even Momi Uncle David’s son and his baby brother Ranni. Our eyes were fixed at My Dad’s direction listening to his story. I heard this story already before, even from Meme Milli yet I always loved it and anyway, Dad was a great storyteller. And now that he had a little wine to drink, he was a little funny too.
This was late at night after a very eventful day. We were in Ashkelon an old city in the southwestern part of the Israeli shore. It dates back to the Philistines. Remember the story of Samson and Delila? Well, it happened there. On the shoreline stretched an archeological park. Many cactus plants were spread in between the old digs and structures. They were barring fruit, a lot of fruit, “Sabres” the cactus pair, is very sweet yet very prickly on the outside. After spending a few hours on the beach swimming and making sandcastles we decided to pick some Sabres and bring them home. This was not an easy task. We had to create special tools for this job. A long stick like a broom stick for example was needed, an empty can with two nails connected to the end of the stick in a 90-degree angle. We would reach the Sabres cover it with the can and twist. The fruit would fall of the branch and stay in the can. We would drop it into a big container and fill it with water and ice. The combination would soften the little thorns and make it easier to peel them. That day we picked up so many pairs that we had enough to feed the whole family and guests who came to the Bar-Mitzvah party. Not without a price, all of us ended up scratching some part or another of our body from the tiny thorns.
“Jukitta was a brave beetle and very industrious,” Continued Dad. She was a very good cook. Her favorite dish was soup. Everyone in the neighborhood loved her soup and they lined up to grab a bowl for lunch. Her biggest fan was a little mouse who lived across the street. He loved her soup so much that he fell in love with Jukitta. After a long courting period he asked Jukitta to marry him. To his delight she accepted.
‘will you teach me how to make this soup?’ asked the mouse.
‘Well, there is a lot more than just ingredients and technique involved.’ She replied. ‘you have to give it your all, your soul your love.’
‘I will watch you and learn’, said the mouse. And so, he did. He watched her cut the vegetables and how she sautéed the onions and added the garlic and so on. He loved most to see how she used her long spoon and stir the soup as it was boiling. She worked slowly and with a lot of patience.
One day Jukitta had to go to the market to get some salt and a few more ingredients for the soup she was planning to make the next day. ‘Will you watch over the soup for me?’ she asked Mouse. ‘All you have to do is slowly stir the soup whenever you see it bubble.’
‘Sure, I will be happy,’ answered Mouse.
As soon as she left, Mouse jumped right in and took the long spoon and started to stir. He was having fun and started to sing and dance while stirring. Unfortunately, as he was dancing, he lost his grip and dropped the spoon by accident into the pot and lost it in the soup. Mouse panicked, what am I going to do? He was running all over the kitchen looking for a spoon to replace the one he dropped in the soup to no avail. There was no extra spoon. It was Jukitta’s only spoon. Finally, an Idea came to mind. Mouse had a long tail; he could use it instead of a spoon. So, mouse stood on the top of the pot balancing himself he lowered his tail down and started to stir the soup. When Jukitta returned from the market mouse was so excited, he jumped of the pot and ran to great his lovely wife. ‘come, come Jukitta’ he sang, ‘come taste the soup.’
Jukitta walked with him to the kitchen and looked at the soup. It looked good, a little thicker than usual and it even smelled a little better, something was different. She looked down at her loving husband and suddenly asked, ‘Mouse, where is your tail?’”
“EEEEUUU” we all cried as my Dad was laughing, and I was scratching my knee. In fact, I was scratching my knee all night long and during the next day at the synagogue while Vivi was reading the Torah and even the night after and all the way home. When we arrived home, Mom looked at me and my knee. “We need to take you to the doctor” she said. My knee was swollen and full of puss. The doctor had to lance it and gave me medication and ordered me to stay of my leg for 2 days until the swelling subsides.
***
Swimming Champion
“It is time for me to tell you about your uncles,” said Meme Milli. I loved Meme Milli, she is the best person I have ever met. You can never do wrong with her, at least when it comes to her grand kids. Even when one of my cousins stole some money from her. She just gave him more money. The “Jukitta” story was hers. She told it to me a few times, but the most favorites were the stories about my Dad and his brothers. She didn’t tell me much about her daughters except that they were very pretty.
“After my husband, your grandfather, passed away, your Dad had to take over many roles. One of them was to take care of his brothers and sister. Yes, I had some help from the husband of my older sister Mayssa. If I needed help disciplining the kids, he would step in. What I didn’t know was that he also spoiled them. When your uncle Claude was getting into a fight with the neighborhood kids and usually lose, he would run crying to my sister’s house, and she would give him a cookie and her husband would talk with him and give him some courage.
But the secret that your Uncle Rone was holding from me was a big one. Rone loved sports, he was a good runner and was also a very good swimmer. The beach was too far for us to visit, but there was a swimming pool in the middle of the town, 2 bus stations from our house. Three times a week, after school, your uncle would go to his uncle and would get a little money to pay for the bus ride to the swimming pool. He would practice every day and he got better and better. One day he came home after school wearing a medal hanging on his neck.
“Look Mom what I got!” he said.
“What is it? A dog Tag?” I asked.
“No, Mom, it’s a medal, I am the team champion at the swimming Pool.”
“What? What swimming pool? What are you talking about?
“I have been practicing a lot at the town’s pool and now I won the championship”
“How come I never heard about it before? How are you getting there? Where did you get the money from? Wait until your brother comes home, he will teach you a lesson.”
When Eli, your Dad, came back from work I called Rone and put him in front of his older brother. “Look what your brother did!” I said to Eli. The look on your father’s face was so confused that confused me too.
“What do you want me to do about it?” should I Beat him? Punish him? For being a champion? Would you like him to mess around in the street instead? I am glad, and proud of him!”
“Aaaahhh! You kids! I really don’t know how I am going to keep on going like that with you.”
***
Borochov
1965
“Are you ready?” asked mom. “We have an appointment at your new school, you don’t want to set a bad impression before you start.”
We had a long walk ahead of us. The new school was closer to downtown Netanya. We were about to move to a new neighborhood.
“I wish we were staying here” I said to mom.
“I know,” she said. “Me too, but you saw the landlord decided he wants to move back into this house and your Dad has found us an apartment. It is going to be our own apartment, no more paying rent.”
“Yeah, but all my friends, and I will have to start over at another school.” To myself I was thinking about the blond girl I met on our class trip to Tel Aviv. I will never have a chance to be with her in the same class.
“You will make new friends.”
“I hope so.”
The new school was called Be’eri” after Berl Katznelson, a Zionist leader who started the Israeli Union. The school was located on “Be’eri street and right next to the Union’s Medical Center.
“See”, said Mom, we will need to get a new doctor too. Here is the medical center we will need to go to when we are sick.”
We walked up the stairs leading to our new school. It was a big school, much bigger than my school in Ein HaTchelet, even bigger that the one I was hoping to go to in Avihayil. It had two big building; one had 2 floors and we can see right next to where the little kids were studying, they were building one more tall building. The office of the principal was in the long one floor building not far from the “arts and crafts” classroom. This was something I have never seen before and I was very excited about the prospect of exploring my skills there.
“Did I offer you a sit?” Yelled my new school principal.
I jumped off the sit, as he immediately changed to a smile. A crooked smile, with a pipe pulling it to the right. His face was half frozen. I was told he had a dead smiling nerve on the right side of his face. The principal was darker than me his mom was Yemenite. He was bolding in the front center of his head. Not many Yemenite people get to a position like a school principal. Unfortunately, in Israel, those days, only Ashkenazic Jews were able to get an important job. Our principal was a new phenomenon, His father was Ashkenazi and therefore he was able to use his connections to get his son to this position. Slowly but surely, Israel was starting to mix its people and creating a new generation much less racist.
“I guess they didn’t teach you how to behave at your old school,” he said. “Whenever you go into someone’s else office or house, always, ask for permission to sit down.”
“I will,” I said shyly.
“Have a sit please,” he pointed to the 2 chairs in front of his desk.
Mom and I sat and looked at him waiting, as he was looking at my school grades and progress.
I see, you didn’t have the highest grades, but I see you are a very bright boy, you have a very good potential.”
“Except that he is in dreamland” interrupted Mom.
“There are three different classes in our school. One for the smart ones, second for the ordinary kids and a third for the ones who need a little help.” He continued. “I could put you with the kids who need help, and I am sure you will be able to get great grades there if you put your mind to it, but I am afraid you will be too bored. I will put you in the tough 5th grade and you will have to work hard to keep up, but you will eventually make it.”
The move wasn’t so easy either. I went with dad to the “shook” – the open market where the porters and their horses were waiting for their daily jobs. Dad made an appointment with one of them and he came to our house to estimate the content of our house and how many carriages he will need to make the move. It turned out he needed 3 “platforms” – long flat carts pulled by horses. Each cart had a porter driving it and they were old skinny yet very strong. One of them just put the big refrigerator on his back and walked with it all the way to the platform.
The new home was small, much smaller than the hose we rented but it was ours. It had a small kitchen a small shower, a dining area and two rooms connected to it. One was Mom and Dad and the other acted as living room and our sleeping space. We had to get 2 folding beds. Every morning Avi and I would fold the beds and push them to the sides of the room and pull the living room table with two chairs in the center. The best part of the place was our little balcony. We were on the first floor and we were able to see the back yard which the whole building shared right in front of us. Our building had four floors and four entrances. Each entrance had two units on each floor with a narrow staircase connecting us all. This neighborhood had a few similar buildings. There was one building in the northern side, it consisted for some reason all Ashkenazi people. The building behind us had only people from Libya or as they called themselves “Trabelsis” or “Tripolitanians” – the other name for the people who came from that country. To the west we had about four other buildings all the same as ours, but I didn’t venture to that area, I was told that many criminals live there.
Our apartment was in the second entrance and in front of us lived the Garon family who recently moved from Turkey. The parents didn’t speak Hebrew, they spoke Ladino, it’s a language spoken amongst the Jews from Spain and other country where the Jews were expelled in 1492. Like the “Yiddish” language it was a way the Jews developed since the Hebrew language was a holly language and was saved for services and Torah study. The Garons had 3 kids one boy who finished his elementary school and went to work at a bicycle repair store. And twins a year younger than me. Yaakov and Sarah were very nice kids, most of the time. When they wanted something, and their Mom didn’t approve Sarah would start to wail for a long time in an annoying way that it disturbed even her aunt who lived at the fourth floor above them. “Who! Woooooohhhhhhh” she would cry sometimes until she fell asleep.
Sarah was very pretty. She was a little short for her age, but she had a long flowing hair down her back, black and silky. In no time we became friends, and we would visit each other and have many play dates together. Yaakov even slept over many times. On many Shabat days we would go to the beach together carrying our tuna sandwiches and fruit in a bag and Dad would have his fishing gear. It was a long walk to the beach from our new place. But it didn’t stop us from climbing up the hill and going down through staircase of the cliff to the beach. Those stairs were washed out almost every winter and the town had to repair them again and again.
At the beach we would keep walking north to the same old beach where we used to play when we lived in Ein HaTchelet. It was a rocky beach. A good place for fishing. The first thing we would do was to collect worms.
“Look Nanou and Avi,” said Dad. “you need to get really close to the rock and dig deep in the wet sand with both hands. Pull out as much sand as you can and dump it on the rock. Now, wash the rock with the sea water and see if there are worms in the sand. Like that one, see?”
“Nice!” I said.
“Yalk!” Avi said, “Disgusting!” almost throwing up.
Yaakov was better, he even learned how to put the worm on the hook. Avi liked holding the pole but not touching the worm. We all had a fishing pole, and we stood waiting for the fish to bight. I lost interest very quickly and went to play with Sarah.
***
Tubi Theatre
“You can’t trust the people in that building,” said Dad about the southern building. “Most of them don’t work or go to school. As you can see, they fight amongst themselves all the time and I would be happy if you don’t make friends with them.”
I personally didn’t like that idea; I liked to make friends and give everyone a chance. But Dad said and so I didn’t. Dad and I were busy setting up his new Jeweler’s desk. This time he had it made by a professional. That heavy desk we had built from the woods we found on the beach was dismantled and put away. The new desk had drawers and a nice leather apron to catch the cuttings of the gold and even a nice light and a lot of new tools. I loved looking at dad work. He made all kind of jewelry. I saw him make rings, chains, earrings, and even cross pendants. I think it had a calming effect on him. I wanted to make some too. But Dad told me never to touch the tools in his desk. The tools I had were toy tools. I got them when I was very young, they didn’t cut anything or hold anything. They were plastic or wood. The only chance I had to work with real tools was at school, at the arts and craft workshop.
The desk was setup in the far end of the balcony where there was no chance it would get wet from the rain or too dry from the sun. Every night Dad would cover it with a tarp. Sometimes I Would pick under the tarp to look at his tools and wish I had some.
One day I was introduced to a new tool at school. It looked very much like dad’s Bow Saw. Except, that it had a much deeper bow. It was designed to work with plywood. To cut shapes and create ornaments. I loved working with it. At the arts and craft workshop I cut trees and flowers out of thin plywood, painted them and made all kind of stuff. I was so tempted to use Dad’s saw but didn’t have the courage to take it out of the desk. I just peeked and looked at it, wishing I had one. Now, you might think I am crazy or that I am making it all up but whatever happened next, I still can’t believe happened.
In the “forbidden” building (that is how Avi, and I called it) Lived a young family with three daughters one was much older than us but the other two were about our age, they seemed quiet and sweet. They were also very cute, but do you remember? We were not allowed to make friends with the people who lived there. Yet, I saw the two young girls walking toward our balcony. I never talked with them before, I didn’t even know their name. They walked straight toward me, there was no doubt about it.
“Hey!” One of them said to me.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Look what I have,” she said and extended her arm showing it to me. I was speechless. She held in her had a brand-new bow saw.
“Can you use it?” she asked. “I have no use for it, we were just cleaning out our house and I found it. I don’t know what it’s for. So, do you want it?”
“Do I want it?” I asked quietly. “Are you a fallen angel? I was praying for this for a week. I’ll tell you what, you give me that and I will make stuff with it so we can all play with. I will call you when I am ready.”
For the next two weeks I didn’t go out to play with the neighborhood kids. I was rushing back home with pieces of plywood the teacher gave me. I was drawing lines on them and cutting along them and before you know it, I built a small puppets stage. Mom gave me some left-over cloth she had, and I made a curtain. I took the heads of dolls Avi broke and sawed new bodies for them with places for my fingers to move like arms and only then, I called the two girls to come play with me. I was waving hi to them every day when they came back from school. But this time I waved them to come over. I never learned their names, but we got to spend many days playing together. They brought some old broken dolls too and we made even more poppets. I ended up giving them that whole theatre and felt good about it.
***
Sukkah
“Mom,” I said as she was showing me the new “Zohar” washing machine. “I need a Blanket.”
“See that? She said, “this is how you start the machine. It is half automatic, which means we have to control when to switch the functions. What do you need a blanket for?
“We are building a sukkah.”
“Nice, I will get you one of the old blankets, but now I want you to learn how to use this machine. When we rinse the laundry, we don’t waist the water. We can reuse it for the next wash. So, I have here a few buckets for the water to drain and collect. you have to remember to put the hose in the bucket before you turn the switch to rinse. You see, this machine has its own cycle of rinsing. We don’t have to put the clothes through that squeezer. You don’t need to be afraid that your fingers will get stuck in between the two hard cylinders.”
Mom found an old green blanket we use only when we have guests and gave it to me, Bentzi’s father who was a contractor brought wood planks from one of his construction’s sites. Dad was an expert using a hammer and nails helped us putting the frame of the sukkah. I showed my friends how to use a stone and a string to hold the blankets together without making holes and hanging them around the sukkah. For the roof of the sukkah, we had to find branches. Palm branches were not easy to fine in Netanya, so we walked to the small forest next to our neighborhood and cut off Eucalyptus branches and covered the top of the sukkah.
All the girls got together and were busy making decorations. We collected all kind of colorful magazines and cut strips to make hanging chains. Rivka showed us how to make hanging baskets out of one magazine page. By sundown we had a beautiful large sukkah for our neighborhood. Every kid brough their dinner and we sat on the floor singing holidays songs and eating our dinner. It was one of my favorite times of the year when all the kids and their parents got together to create a project for all of us to share. There were other times like that, “LaG BaOmer” for example, when we collected wood from everywhere to build a big bon fire. Or when we all got together to burn the “Hametz”, but we will get to that some other times.
***
