Teaching Music
December 1 ,2015
Le Havre
Dede my cousin David (Dede) woke me up at 3:30 AM and we drove for two hours to a small town outside of Paris. We set up his tent and spread all the children’s cloths he was selling. Not many people were shopping that day, may be because of the cold weather. I felt bad for him, he promised to pay me for my help that he didn’t really need so I told him I will work with him just till the end of the week and leave. He had a ten-year-old boy who was busy at public school in the morning, Hebrew school in the afternoon, Synagogue service every Friday night and Saturday morning. On Sunday again Hebrew school.
“Does he have a day off?” I asked Dede.
“Oh, I had it worse when I was his age, I had to help my father too.”
“That’s tough!”
“Life is not easy for us here; it is hard to make a good living.”
“So, why don’t you move to Israel?” I asked.
“And do what?” he asked in return, “I can’t start a new busines. Maybe when I retire.”
“Just so you know, the government helps new immigrants.”
“I know, But I will have to also leave the rest of my family here behind. We should have moved when your parents moved.”
“I don’t know, it wasn’t easy for them either in those days.”
I called Christine at Le Havre and we planned to meet at the train station. I bought a Euro pass for the next month. I could use it multiple times anywhere in Europe. I decided to use it first to go to visit with Christine for the weekend. She picked me up in her green Renault 5. All I had was my new backpack and my guitar. I was wearing my new coat and a new pair of winter boots that I bought at the flea market where Dede worked, my new blue jeans and a stripe T shirt. In my bag I had a few changes of underwear, T Shirts, two pairs of pants, my military hunting knife, and my wash kit; only what I needed to survive for the next month or so. I sent the rest of my stuff in a suitcase with Nehemiah to bring to my parents. The Train ride was smooth and pretty. The trees were still changing colors and I could still see the fields around.
“Is that all you have? Asked Christine when I put my backpack and guitar at the back of her cute car.
“That’s all I need, I like your car, it looks very comfortable.”
“Thanks!” she said with a smile, “Dad bought it for me for my graduation of the seminar. It’s the newest Renault 5, I love it! It handles great.
“You are a schoolteacher?” I asked.
“Yes, fourth grade, they are fun.”
“And I thought you were just a musician.”
“I am that too, I play the flute at the town’s orchestra and of course for our little performing troupe.
“That’s a generous gift, what does your father do for living?”
“He’s an engineer.”
Christine was a fast driver and her car responded to her just as well. We drove to her parent’s big house in the outskirts of Le Havre. It was located on a hill overlooking the harbor. Le Havre - The Harbor in English, is located in the Normandy has a 500-year history of being the harbor of France to the Atlantic Ocean. It went through the war of religions, the French Revolution, World War I, and War World II. It is now a modern sea faring city.
“What are your plans?” Asked Christine’s mother. “I Hear you want to travel Europe.”
“True, But I am not planning to travel like a normal tourist, I want to visit friends and see how people actually live and not just visit tourist sites. I will do that when I am older”
The next morning Christine took me to visit with some members of her company, after stopping at the cliffs of Etretat overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. I was sure that I saw that scenery in some movie before.
On Sunday Cristine took me to a sea food restaurant. I have never been before to one of those. Growing with my parents we rarely went to restaurants. I ordered a sea bass while Christine ordered a plate called fruit of the sea. It came with a toolbox, unlike my plate that came with a special fish knife that was also new to me. Her toolbox included plyers, tweezers, special forks, and knives; I could swear I saw a hammer too. Christine saw my expression and smiled. These are so I can crack the shells and dig out the meat each for a different creature. That’s it, I flipped out when the waiter wrapped the plastic bib around her neck.
We went to visit the rest of the company and from there back to her house to pack for my early morning trip to Holland. I promised her to keep in touch and invited her to visit. She promised to plan a trip for the beginning of the summer.
***
Pigs Farm
“Gerda? How are you?” I said to my Dutch friend over the telephone. “I'll be taking the train to Oss tomorrow morning.”
“I'm so glad,” she said. “I can't wait to see you. we'll be waiting for you at the station.”
I met Gerda (pronounced “Cherda”) in Israel a year earlier at the swimming pool where I was the lifeguard. Her and her friend Germa were tourists in Netanya, and we became very close friends. Now, when my dancing tour in France was over, I was on my way to visit all my friends around Europe. This was my second stop. Both Gerda and Germa were waiting for me at the station.
Gerda was a middle sister in a big farming family. She has ten brothers and sisters.
“I'd like to spend some time working with your family at the farm,” I said when we left the train station. “Your family is nice to invite me over and let me stay at the house, so I’d like to help some.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “We are farmers, you know.”
“I know. I went to an agricultural school and I know what it takes.”
“I'll ask my brother and we'll see how we can make it work.”
I met Gerda’s family and I felt honored by them setting up a room just so I can have my privacy. Three brothers had to sleep in other rooms with their siblings just so I could have the room for myself. Well, not really; Gerda came to spend part of the time with me.
The next day Gerda talked with her brothers about my offer, and they were very happy to have one more hand for the shipping job they had the next morning. Gerda's family raised pigs for meat. They get the baby pigs and raise them until they are 100 days old and then ship them for slaughter.
The next morning, I was booked to wake up with Gerda's two older brothers at 3:00 A.M. and load the pigs onto a very big truck. I was very excited about the whole concept. It was something that I'd never done before.
The pigs were all females. They were raised in a big barn with cement floor and no windows. They were fed a special diet to keep their meat soft and were shipped to the slaughterhouse as soon as they reached the age of 100 days. My job was to help load them on to the truck and download them when we got to the logistic center. You might think, what's the big deal? Well, it wasn't an easy task. I was given an electric prong that looked like a flashlight. When you pushed it against the pigs' skin it would emit an electric surge that would zap the poor animal and send it running. I had to stand next to the rails that directed the pigs toward the truck and make sure no pig stood and disrupted the flow of the herd. We loaded, I mean packed that long semi-trailer, closed the gate, and then Mark Gerda’s oldest brother pushed a button that lifted the platform with the pigs all the way up, and by doing so made more room for the next batch.
“Hey, what’s this guy doing here?” asked John, the second brother. It was a male pig much older than the group we were loading.
“Hey Tib, can you jump in and redirect that pig my way?” Mark yelled toward me.
“Sure,” I said and jumped over the fence, just to be pushed back by the oncoming pigs. The pigs were crammed in so tightly that I literally fell on top of them. It took a lot to strength to bring myself back to a standing position, and then with all the pigs around me up to my waist, to make my way, with the male pig, toward Mark across the ramp. I don't know how long it took me, but by the time I got the pig and myself out of the way, I was all bruised all over.
We loaded two more platforms of pigs, then locked the back doors. This semi-trailer was long and tall. It had tall, narrow windows covered with wire mesh to let the air in and keep the pigs from falling out.
“Hop in!” Mark commanded. “You did a great job. Now you can rest a bit until we get to the shipping center.”
I was seated between Mark the driver and his brother John. It was still early in the morning and I was already tired, but I didn't want to sleep. I was still amazed by the flat land and its green fields, even after having been in Europe for two months. I wanted to see the landscape and, anyway, I didn't want to look bad on my first day of work. But anything I would have done not to look bad that day would not have helped because by the end of the day I looked worse than I've ever looked.
We arrived at the shipping center and downloaded the pigs. Then I saw Mark take one of the pigs aside, slit open its ear and leave it to bleed at the side of the building.
“What is going to happen to that pig?” I asked.
“I gave it as a gift to the head buyer. The holidays are coming, you know.”
“Where is John?” I asked, trying not to look at the poor pig.
“He's driving the truck to the washing ramp.”
“Can I help him wash the truck?”
“Sure, but you won't be able to do it, not just yet. He has to wait in line. Those other trucks were here before us.
I looked at the pig again. “Why are you letting the pig bleed like that? It's going to die.”
“That's the idea, but this way the meat will be softer when it’s prepared. Also, this way the pig doesn't know she's dying. Her muscles will be even softer. She’s bleeding slowly and eventually she’ll fall asleep before she dies.”
“I see.”
When it became our turn to wash the big truck, John drove it up a ramp that was surrounded by a pile of pig dung as high as the Ramp. I waited for him at the top of the ramp with a big fire hose in my hand. I always loved playing with water as a kid and, even as an adult, I still enjoy it. The hose had a long spout that was connected to a lever to shut off the pressure or open it. All I had to do was aim it at the truck and squirt with this high pressure. Out of the corner of my eye I could see all the Dutch truck drivers lining up next to the pile of poop and looking at me with a smirk. “They like me,” I thought to myself. “They've never seen an Israeli working with pigs before.”
“Whaaaaaaaa!” was the first syllable, and the last that came out of my mouth. I couldn't believe the force of the water. At the first moment I turned the lever to let the water out, I was pushed backward right into the dung pile. I was up to my knees in pig dung. Lucky for me I had on tall boots. Getting back up the ramp was going to be challenging, though. I tried to pull up my right leg, but it came out of the boot. Trying to put it back in just threw me out of balance and, after some acrobatic moves, I fell face down into the pile. The roar of laughter, the cheers and the clapping were the last things I heard.
Then it was my turn to get washed. They did it just as I tried to do with the truck. I stood at the top of the ramp and John sprayed me clean and I had to stay wet all the way back home. Well, it's better than smelling like the truck.
I worked with them for a few more days, feeding the pigs and cleaning after them. I must say the pigsty was clean.
Sunday afternoon Germa and Gerda took me to Rotterdam for lunch in a Chinese restaurant. When the waiter arrived, he asked in Dutch for our order. I It took me a while to figure out what I wanted, I never had Chinese food before. I ordered chicken and sesame. He then asked if I wanted a large portion of rice or a small one. But he really said if I wanted a “Lalge poltion”. Again, I never heard Chinese people speak and didn’t know they didn’t use the letter “R”, so I answered “Lalge Please”. The girls jumped in right away and asked him for forgiveness. “He is a foreigner and doesn’t speak Dutch.” I took a while for them to explain it to me and we drove back home.
Two days later we stopped at Germa’s house for dessert and coffee. And again, I messed up, I didn’t offer to wash the dishes. Both explained to me that in Holland the guests always wash the dishes, but they offered to help me. Back to Gerda’s house as I was packing, I made a phone call to Germany and asked to speak with Beate. Her sister who answered the phone told me she wasn’t home. And asked if I had a message for her. Shure, please let her know that I will arrive tomorrow evening at Osnabrück.
“Does she have to pick you up?” she asked.
“Of course, if she wants to see me.”
“Oh boy!” she said and hung up the phone.
***
Back to Germany
It was getting dark in the small train station of Osnabrück. I arrived half an hour ago and was still waiting. Finally, I picked up the public phone to call Beate but there was no answer. I was alone in a train station of a city I don’t really know and with no place to stay. I was baffled, Beate’s sister sounded excited last night, what happened? In our correspondences Beate told me she was looking forward to hosting me. I had no choice; I needed some kind of help. I opened my address book and called Susan.
“Hello Tibi!” I heard Christine, Susan’s younger sister saying before I even spoke.
“How did you know it was me?”
“Who else would call us at this hour?”
“What do you mean? I was about to ask you if you know of a hotel close to the train station.”
“Beate told me about you, and I had a feeling you would call.”
“What do you mean?”
“Beate and Susan are in the same class, they are both on a school trip until tomorrow and Beate had a new boyfriend and was very embarrassed to tell you.”
“So, she expected to leave me stranded at the station?”
“No, this is why she called me. wait right there, I will come to pick you up.”
Susan and Christine had a younger sister I had the pleasure to meet. She was in the back seat when Christine came to pick me up.
“Anna is letting you stay in her room,” said Christine. “She will be staying with me in my room. Mom made something for you to eat. I hope you like scrambled eggs.”
“I love scrambled eggs, as long as they aren’t made with milk.”
“Yes, we remembered, you don’t eat milk products.”
“You remembered?”
“Of course, we remember, you are still our hero. So-what if you spent some evening with Beate, she is a pretty girl after all.”
This was a kind of attitude and way of thinking I wasn’t used to. In Israel if I left a girl for another one, she would never forgive me. Or for sure wouldn’t look at it so lightly.
Anna’s room was pinky with a lot of Barbie dolls, I felt silly but comfortable. Susan came back from her school trip and we got to spend some afternoons together (I spent the morning walking around the town eating ice cream). One night we sat around the piano while Christine was playing the Piano, me on the guitar and we sand some popular songs. Another night wasn’t that much fun. The girls took me to an ice rink. I never ice skated before. I was pretty good with roller skated but didn’t expect what it would be like ice skating. I rented a pair of skates and walked to the ice. The girls were already skating around and having fun. They didn’t get to see me putting my foot on the ice and falling on my butt as soon as I brought the other foot in. I tried to get up and fell so many times I was sure someone was going to cut my fingers with their blades skating next to me. I crawled back out and took my skates off. I had enough.
On Sunday morning Her mom took us all to a church’s mass. Another new experience for me. The people were sited on pews and sang a few hymns together, kneeled on forward a few times and walked to get some crackers and a sip of wine and what I thought was a blessing from the priest. I stayed in my seat while all were lining up in front of him. When everyone got back to their seats, the priest gave a sermon and a few announcements, which I didn’t really understood much. When we arrived back home, I made a phone call to Lisel who now lived in the colleges’ city Bremen. This time It was her who picked up the phone and was very happy to hear from me and was excited to see me the next afternoon.
“It was early morning yesterday; I was up before the dawn. I really had enjoyed my stay; but I must be moving on…” The Supertramp’s “Goodbye Stranger” song was playing in the car as Susan was driving me to the train. I thought it was so appropriate, it was exactly how I felt. It described what I was doing during that time, traveling from one friend to another.
Lisel was waiting for me at the Train station tall and pretty, wearing the same overall she wore when we met the year before. This town was a Universities town. It caters for the students. For example, students rode free on the trollies or local buses. We hopped on a Trolly and went right to her apartment.
“Meet Peter,” said Lisel, “my roommate. Peter this is Tibi, I told you about.”
“Nice meeting you,” the tall red haired young man said and extended his hand. His English was just as good as Lisel – better than mine.
“Nice to meet you too.”
“Peter goes to the same university I go to, but we have different schedules. He said he will be very happy to spend time with you when I am in class.”
“Sounds great! I am not planning to stay long; I still have to visit Scandinavia.”
That night Peter prepared one of my favorite dinners; schnitzel and chips, and we talked about my trip, my tour, and my plans. Lisel had an extra bed in her bedroom for me to sleep in.
“I am dating someone now,” she said, “I met him swimming at our university pool.”
“How serious is it?”
“Not sure, but serious enough for you to sleep in your own bed,” she smiled.
“No problems, but you should know, if you are coming to my house, you are sleeping in my bed.”
It didn’t take long, just as I fell asleep, she crawled in my bed.
The next morning Peter and I went for a walk downtown where I had to get some money from the local bank. All I had on me was my credit card, I was running low on cash. The teller behind the desk asked me to sit next to the bank’s manager’s office. I had to hand him my passport and credit card for them to check in their system if I was who I said I was and if I actually had credit. After all the way I dressed, didn’t look like a son of some reach man, and I looked much younger than my age. After about thirty minutes the manager came out with the money I needed. We stopped at a Christmas shop. One more thing I have never seen or expected to see. Israel, as far as I know, doesn’t have Christmas stores. We do have gift shops for with items for Christians but not dedicated shops just for that, even during the Christmas time. He bought some ornaments for the tree they were going to buy and even bought one for me.
“For you to remember us,” he said.
That evening I helped preparing dinner, I made the famous Israeli salad. We sat talking for a while and again, Lisel joined me in bed.
“Do you have to leave tomorrow?” She whispered in my ear.
“What about your boyfriend from the pool?”
“I saw him this afternoon, I am not sure about him.”
Let’s see where it takes you, and if you want me to come back or if you want to come to Israel, we can talk about it later.”
“Goodbye stranger, it’s been nice! Hope you find your paradise…” The song was playing in my head now as I took the morning train to Denmark.
***
Scandinavia
This time I decided to take a chance and not call ahead of time. I had enough friends up here I knew I could find a place to stay easily. I met a Jewish family who stayed at the hotel the last summer. They promised to host me if I ever come to Denmark.
“Forget about the Shikse girls.” Said Rachel the older daughter. She had a year younger brother Mark, and a two-year younger sister Sara. They were all nice and friendly, not that I agreed with the idea that I should only date Jewish girls. But I decided to give it a chance and see if they would host me as they promised. After all, Rachel did send me some pictures with love notes. Naturally, I called her first.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I am looking for Rachel.”
“Tibi?”
“Yes, Peter?”
“Yes, Rachel isn’t home yet, can I leave a message?”
“Yes, I am in town.”
“Nice! Where are you staying?”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know yet, I was calling to ask if you guys know of a good place, not too expensive.”
“I don’t know. Please call us as soon as you find one.”
I called Charlotte, but there was no answer, so I called the Karens’.
“Hello?”
“Hello.”
“Tibi? Are you in town?” It was Karen the mother of Karen Smith.
“Yes, just got off the train. You recognized my voice so easily?”
“I will never forget your voice. Don’t move, I am coming to get you!”
Now this is the kind of welcome I expected from the Jewish family. After all they invited me and tried to talk me out of being with the non-Jewish girls.
“It is so nice to see you,” Said Mrs. Smith. “Karen will be home soon, let’s make it a surprise for her.”
A short time after I was settled in the guest room of their apartment, we heard the door being unlocked. I stood just in front of the door waiting for Karen to open it.
“Whaaaa!” Karen dropped her keys and immediately extended her arms for a hug.
We had a nice dinner and we sat talking about my dancing tour and what my plans for the rest of my time in Europe. I pulled my guitar and we started singing while I played. Suddenly the guitar felt odd, even more, it sounded odd. The neck of the guitar was a little lose, and the sound was wavering. I checked inside the guitar and found out that it was a little different from other guitars It had a blot holding the neck to the body and the bolt was turning endlessly. There was no way to fix it by myself. Karen saw my dismay and thought for a moment.
“Come with me,” she said and pulled me to her room. On her wall hanging like a picture was a beautiful guitar.
“It’s just hanging on my wall, I don’t play, and it’s even missing a string. It is yours; I will hang your guitar instead.”
“Are you sure?” I really didn’t expect that. We didn’t even sleep together; we became friends in Israel and now I am a guest at her house.
“You know, I am planning to visit some other friends here.”
“I know, you told us.”
“It’s ok by you?”
“Of course, you have been a good friend in Israel, and you kept in touch, I have a feeling you will stop someday, when you have a permanent girlfriend. But this guitar will be a good reminder of our friendship.”
I called Charlotte the next day and was invited to her home.
“I can’t believe it; you didn’t call me right away.”
“I did but you didn’t answer.”
“We are coming to get you.”
I said goodbye to the Karens and gave them each a big hug and a long thank you for the beautiful guitar.
Charlotte was more than excited to see me. She moved from the front seat of her father’s car to sit with me in the back seat and held my hand with both her hands. She laid her head on my shoulder and remained quite until we got to her house.
Charlotte’s father was a bank manager in Copenhagen. She had two sisters one was 2 years older, a piano player by the name of Maria. The other one was 3 years younger high school student Frederique; she plays the cello. As you can see, a musical family. Her mom was a wonderful soft-spoken host, and her father was the “only man in the house so he kept out of anything around the house or anything to do with emotion. He was friendly enough and was happy to have a guy to talk to for a change.
Their house was located outside of Copenhagen on a shore of a small pond. It was a self-contained house; it had its own generator and a water well. I was impressed on how thick the walls were, they had double windows; one for the outside and one for the inside. They kept food pots in between to save space in the refrigerator. Frozen meet was kept outside in a plastic bag hanging from the window. So many new things for me, and only on the first day.
For breakfast we were all sitting around the table with, again new interesting choices for me. The bread was thin squares of very dark brown slices rich with different kind of seeds. There was jam or marmalade as they called it. In Israel we would spread the jam with a knife. In Charlotte’s home they scoop the jam with a spoon from the jar and spread it with it. For lunch they served all kind of sausages including blood sausage which I couldn’t even think of tasting. But for dinner, I was introduced to pea soup; thick green and flavorful, the spoon it was so thick the stood up straight in the bowl.
I was placed in the family room downstairs in the basement. Charlotte set up a pullup sofa for me / us to sleep in while during the afternoon and evening the sisters would sit with us to watch TV, that is if we didn’t have other plans. It was Chanukah on that first week I spent with Charlotte. We collected some beer caps and I glued them on a piece of wood to create a “Chanukiah”. The air got a little stuffy in the basement, so I cracked the window a little bit for air. Charlotte and I enjoyed being together every night, more than just friends with benefits.
“Are you kidding?” I asked Charlotte on our first night together. “Are you telling me you never slept with anyone, ever? I don’t know if I want to be your first.”
“No one!” She stated again, “I had a few opportunities last year, but I knew you were coming so I decided to wait for you.” She was getting angry, “so don’t keep me waiting, I am all yours.”
The next morning Charlotte’s mom asked me if I mind driving Charlotte and her little sister to school. I was surprised, that would be the first time that I drove in Europe. I accepted gladly. Mr. Salto – charlotte’s father had a brand-new Chrysler in a garage next to the house. I took it for a test drive with him and the girls and dropped all of them to work and school. He usually had a ride from his office. I drove slowly and carefully; the roads were covered with ice and grovel.
After dropping them off, I drove back to the house I stopped at the stop sign in front of their street. And as I was taking the turn to the left in the direction of their house the car kept turning against my will. Unfortunately, that spot of the road lost the gravel and became an ice rink. I never drove on icy road before and wasn’t sure what to do. The car just kept turning and mad a whole circle before stopping in the direction of the house. My heart was racing, I could feel the heartbeat through my coat. It reminded me the feeling I had when I hit the little boy with my Sussita a few years ago. I stood there a few seconds taking a deep breath, and slowly drove forward, stopped before taking the turn to the driveway and slowly entering the garage.
Charlotte’s house was located on a hill over the frozen pond. So, the first thing I did was to go downtown to an ice-skating store and bought a pair of used hokey skates. That evening Charlotte and maria decided to teach me how to ice skate. I told them how many times I fell in Germany when I tried ice skating. We slid down the hill sitting on sleds all the way down to the pond. We stood up, both girls took my arms, holding each elbow and synchronized their moves together with me, holding me in between them. After a short while, they let me go and I was able to keep going on my own without falling, not even once. The next day Charlotte and I tried to skate on our own but unfortunately as soon as we slid on the lake, we turned right back. As it was happening ever since I started my travels, the sun shined on me everywhere. And this time it didn’t stop; the ice on the pond started to crack.
“I can’t believe it,” said Charlotte, “It is almost Christmas, and the sun is out.”
“It has been following me,” I said with a smile. I want to go to Sweden before Christmas and before it gets really cold and dark. I will visit my friend and be back to celebrate with you. After that I will go back home. My train ticket is expiring, and my bank account is getting low.”
“I will miss you”
“I will be back.”
I called Anne’s husband, Vaclav, telling him that I will be coming to Gothenburg to visit him. He sounded pretty excited. So, the next morning I took the train and a ferry over the northern sea and a train again to Gothenburg. It was late in the afternoon when I arrived there. I called Vaclav, there was no answer. I waited about half an hour and again there was no answer. I had no choice; it was getting dark. I walked to the information booth and asked about a youth hostel. The teller gave me the information and I boarded a bus who drove on icy road covered with gravel to the edge of the town - last station.
“Follow that trail,” the bus driver told me. “About ½ a mile, the hostel will be there.”
“Thanks!” I picked up my Backpack and Guitar and started to walk toward the trail. Two minutes later I was happy I that I bought the new boots in France. The trail was in a dense pine wood forest. It was covered with about a foot of fluffy snow. It was getting darker by the minute; I was thinking about bears or wolves and the hostel was nowhere in sight. I kept walking for a few more minutes when I saw a wooden building, more like a log cabin but much bigger. It had some dim light and an awning over the front door. I walked inside and saw a counter with a young man sitting behind it. He raised his head as if he was surprised to see me. He said something in Swedish that sounded like a question. I answered in English telling him that I was looking for a room.
“I figured you did, with your backpack and all.”
“Oh.”
“We don’t have walk-ins in this time of year, But I will be happy to help you.”
“Good! Thanks!”
“Do you have your own linins?”
“My sleeping bag.”
“We supply you with paper sheets and towels. The showers are public, but you are the only guest today. If you like a light breakfast, we serve it at 8:00.”
“What about dinner?”
“For that you will have to walk back to the main road, there is a small restaurant right there.”
“Thanks again! I will take the breakfast. Do you have a public Phone?”
“Down the hall.”
I called Charlotte and she was happy to hear I was getting back the next day. And went back to the snowy trail for dinner and this time I was not worried about bears and wolves. I Ate a hamburger and French fries for dinner and walked back to my hostel in total darkness. Well, not exactly, remember, the sky cleared up for me; the moon and stars gave enough light. For the first time in my life, I got to sleep in paper sheets and used large paper towels after the shower. What next? Are they going to make a wedding dress out of paper too?
Charlotte’s mom was frustrated, they just bought a cembalo for Maria. It was a handmade instrument and unfortunately not made well. Many of the kyes didn’t work well. It was tune more or less but the picks weren’t adjusted correctly. Some were plucking some were missing the strings and some were stuck.
“Do you want me to take a look?” I offered.
“Did you ever work on a piano or an instrument like that?
“No, but I am a micro mechanic engineer. I could try to fix it. I don’t have much to do during the day. All I need are some tools.”
She showed me a toolbox with some screw drivers and a hammer.
“I will need a nails file,” I said after the first look.
“Hmm!” she said and went to get me one.
“This is a very nice gift!” I said, “in Israel for a holiday we would just get new cloths.”
“It is an important holiday,” she handed me the file, “for the kids, it’s all about the gifts.”
“I remember how once my cousin received new shoes from his parents and he complained yelling; All I always get from you are cloths and shoes, cloths and shoes...”
“Funny!”
It took me about a week to open the big instrument and carefully filing or adjusting the small picks on each kye, but I was able to finish it just before Christmas. Maria was in heaven; she played the cembalo so nicely and now she was going to play for the holiday party.
The next day Charlotte asked me if I wanted to help chose a tree. I accepted of course, after all I came here to experience how people lived and not just visit the touristy sites.
Mr. Salto, Frederique, Charlotte, and I drove to a farm where you could choose your tree and even cut if yourself. We had to make sure it wasn’t too tall, and it had to look nice. To me all trees looked nice. It was Frederique who picked the tree, I was honored with the task of cutting it down with a hand saw and helped Mr. Salto to tie it down to the top of the car.
Back at home the stand was waiting next to the piano in the music room. Yes, they had a piano too and a music room. Maria took upon herself to teach me a Danish Christmas song so we can sing it in harmony.
The next morning, two days before Christmas, Mr. Salto gave me the kyes for his car. His wife insisted on giving me a nice amount of money for fixing the cembalo. Charlotte wanted to go on a day trip up north. We drove to Kornberg, the castle Elsinore of Shakespeare’s Hamlet. It was an impressive site, especially the statue of the hero who would come to life to save Denmark from enemies. It was quite a challenging day, driving in a country where I didn’t understand the language and yet we didn’t get lost and with the help of a good map we made it back home just in time for dinner. The next morning, I went to town to buy a little flowering plant for Mrs. Salto. I had no gifts for everyone for Christmas so I thought a gift for Charlotte’s mom would do it. After all, this was all I could afford.
On Christmas eve we danced around the tree and sang songs, including the one I just learned welcoming yule. It felt a little odd for me, but I was a guest and didn’t want to offend anyone. I was sure that if they were in my house for Passover, they would also eat matza.
The next morning, we all went down for breakfast and spent the whole morning opening gifts. Charlotte received a new expensive bow for her violin. She was going to play it that night at a local concert. I received a blue and white striped shirt and two pairs of sox to match the shirt.
“Cloths and shoes!” said Mrs. Salto with a smile.
The girls gave me a blue and white scarf of the Danish hockey team and a hat to go with it. Charlotte gave me a stuffed brown dog.
“I call him Mini Rule.” She said with a smile, “I remembered him and hope to get to see him again soon.”
“Yes, I miss him a lot too.” Believe it or not, I still have that cute stuffed animal.
Charlotte’s parents handed Charlotte a pair of tickets to a concert with the Royal Danish Ballet. Ib Andersen danced the lead role of the ballet by the American choreographer Glen Tetley Le Sacre de Printemps. It was a very demanding part for any dancer. I was mesmerized, the dancer was about my age and even a little smaller than me.
“If he could do that, I can too” I said to Charlotte after the concert.
“You will need many years of ballet classes!” She smiled, “He started at the age of 7.”
“I don’t care, I am going back to Israel next week and I will be looking for a Ballet teacher. In fact, I know someone, a woman I dated a while ago.”
“You and your girls!” Said Charlotte and kissed me on my chick, “I will miss you!”
We walked toward the harbor where I said goodbye to the statue of the little mermaid with her new head. I don’t know what number it was, for some reason people were stealing her head again and again.
***
