One More From The Road (S'about time...right?!?!)
Suffice it to say, the entries that follow are nothing, if not exceedingly overdue. Seeing as how it's been over two weeks since the last [written] post, rather than compose an entry so lengthy that not even the most devoted and ambitious of you would read it in its entirely, I will provided you with snippets of the events that transpired, encapsulated in a multitude of posts. Yona alluded to a Shabbat spent in Bat Yam in her previous entry, and so I shall elaborate on that experience--within reason. ;) We drove from Givatayiim to Bat Yam on Friday afternoon [November 7th], arriving just in time for me to go with Shmulik to the local Beit Knesset [Synagogue] for Kabbalat Shabbat.
For those of you unfamiliar with Shmulik and Dina, they are very dear friends of David and Haia, so very close I'd venture to call them family--Shmulik in fact came all the way from Israel to attend our wedding! Shmulik's mother and Haia's mom were not only neighbors in Poland prior to the events of the Holocaust, but as tight as sisters. Both of them immigrated to the same neighborhood in Israel following the war, and their children in turn became the best of friends. That's the long and short of the story.
Shmulik and Dina [Tavori] are a couple whose company you could never tire of, probably owing to our similar dispositions and interests. Dina is a chef sans competition--no offense to any of you out there who also wield formidable cooking capacity—Dina’s reign is undeniable. What makes Dina's cooking so spectacular is that it truly runs the gamet of Jewish cooking, incorporating everything from Mafroom (Libyan potatoes stuffed with meat) to fishcakes, to Chicken schnitzel. Gastronomical Galut is a thing of this past in the Tavori Kitchen. Dina doesn't stop there-- you'll find yourself hard pressed to keep yourself away from her egg-less Chocolate Cake [with almond flour].
One of Shmulik and Dina’s two sons came for Shabbat dinner along with his wife and three children.* Because their other son was unable to attend owing to a cold, I was given the honor of making Kiddush. Reciting the bracha for Kiddush is something I do each and every Shabbat, however the challenge of saying it in front of large family of Israelis [all of whom pronounce Hebrew as I believe it should be pronounced, not with the typical Ashkenazi pronunciation so commonplace in the States] was a challenge that I really relished. It sounds corny to say, but I was both relieved and exited when Yona told me that I not only did superbly, but also appeared very confident and cool during it all. This was welcome news, as I’m know at times to speak Hebrew like my Russian-speaking forefathers [and mothers]. :-P
*On the subject of children visiting their parents and vice versa, one of the truly special things about Israel is the [relative] close proximity of cities and towns to one another. Unlike the United States, were one has to drive two hours [at best] on an interstate--passing one soporific suburb after an another--just to reach their loved ones in another metropolis, most of Israel's residential areas are within thirty to forty-five minutes of each other! And that's not all, my inside sources tell me that the infrastructure is improving with each passing day!
The conversation over dinner was so organic it felt like home. Like family. Politically there is certainly ideological overlap and agreement, which is saying something [believe it or not] in this country.
Shmulik is wonderful to be around, not just because he’s a fiery former paratrooper, or because he’s loves sports [and wakes up at 5am to watch Cleveland Cavalier Games], but because his lack of ability to speak English affords me one of the best opportunities to work on my Hebrew. Because Shmulik and I have more than a modicum of similarities, there’s quite a desire to converse, which compels me to articulate myself, on my own, in his native tongue. In due time I suppose.
Shmulik showed us to the beach during the day on Shabbat, just a 15 minute walk from their apartment—the same beach which runs along the entirety of Israel’s coast, from Haifa down to Ashdod. Before we knew it Shabbat was over, the new week arrived, and it was time for us to be on our way.
Yona and I returned to Givatayiim with a bounty of tasty treats Dina wouldn't have it any other way. The leftover grub undoubtedly helped to assuage our pain of separation from Shmulik and Dina--we truly missed [and continue to miss] them (in such a short while they’ve become somewhat like my surrogate Israeli grandparents).
That’s all for now folks! More coming your way soon! Peace!
