Nani Haim Tibi

1963
Elephant Birds

    Take this! And this! And that!
The sword in my hand was long and thin, the enemy was tall and strong, but I was quicker. Every one of his strokes were averted and avoided. It was hard but I was hitting back. As small as I was, almost as tall as the length of my sword, I was able to avoid every attempt to hit me. He was coming from the left and from the right. I was sliding from side to side. He hit from above and my sward would be waiting for him and diverting his attack. Finally, as he was lunging forward, my sword made a big circle twisting his arm and sending his sword up high in the air. Immediately, I extended my arm forward and the sword was pushed right into the exposed, soft, tan and beautiful stomach of… No! It was Leah Stetski my second-grade teacher. The real pretty woman, the only pretty woman in our school. The love of my life…

    I woke up all shaking and sweating from the fear of hurting the only woman I ever loved.
The sun was starting to rise, and it was time to get up and go to school. Today was a special day -- we had a field trip to Tel-Aviv to visit the house of the laureate poet Haim Nachman Bialik. I remember the stories that Leah was reading to us of his childhood in Russia.  He was a dreamer, like me. He never learned much in his little “heder,” a small room full of boys and a very serious Rabbi. All the kids are seated around one table, and all are trying to learn the Alpha Bet. Bialik was very imaginative. He would imagine the letters as characters. The Aleph would be a Chinese man carrying two buckets or the Gimel would be an old man with a walking stick. Bialik wrote a lot of poems that became later popular songs. Some of his stories were written for children, and some were for adults. One of his most popular songs was “Welcome Back Little Bird”. The bird was just arriving from the Southeast and Bialik was asking if it delivered his love to the land of Israel.

    Bialik died a while years ago and the state of Israel created a 10 Israeli Liras in his memory. He was one of the first settlers in the new town Tel-Aviv. After his death his widow donated his house to the town, and it became a museum. Today we were going to visit the place. It was going to be a long day. After the museum we will be going to the zoo.

Our school was a very small school. We had only 4 classes from first grade to fourth. There was no way that our class would fill a bus. We were grouped together with another second grade from a neighboring village. Avihayil was a small farmers village right next to our town. It had a very big school that held kids from the neighboring villages. Our school was a satellite location of this school. Kids from other small villages around Netanya also were driven to attend there.

In one bus, we were all excited and eager to get to Tel-Aviv. Lea, the love of my life, was standing in the front of the bus with a microphone in her hand and she was leading us in singing our favorite songs. I was seated next to Rina “Margarina”. It was fun sitting next to her. She knew all the words for the songs. I wish I knew them too. I loved singing and with Lea leading us -- there was nothing better.

Two rows in front of me I saw something I’ve never seen in my whole life. It was soft, silky, long, and almost white. This little blond hair girl was jumping up and down in front of me singing her heart out. The hair was flowing softly from side to side almost like waving at me to look at it. And you can bet I was looking at it. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I was trying to see the face that came with that hair. Unfortunately, she was looking forward and I couldn’t see her face. I couldn’t take my eyes off her during the whole ride to Tel-Aviv and when we arrived at the author’s house I managed to jump over Rina “Margarina” and rushed to the front of the bus. By the time I got there she was already gone.

I don’t remember anything of what we saw in the museum. All I remember was that bouncing flowing blond hair. I followed her from room to room. Trying very hard not to be too obvious. In the library I had to push my way through the crowd but again when I got to the front of the line she wasn’t there anymore. I rushed out to the living room just to see her passing to the staircase and climb to the bedroom.

Excuse me, excuse me, I asked every person I bumped into and push my way up the stairs. Oh, no! When I got there, she wasn’t there anymore. I couldn’t believe it. She has disappeared. I spent the whole hour looking for her. Still have not been able to see her face. All I remembered was the bouncing light almost white hair.

At the zoo I remember seeing the birds and the elephants I saw the lions and the tigers but all that time I was looking for my newly found “friend.”

Early in the afternoon when it was time for us to go back home, I was dragging my feet along the way back to the bus. My head drooped down, and I had no desire for anything but going home. I lost that chance to see who is in front of that white hair. That new creature that was so unfamiliar to me. Walking slowly, I fail to notice the giggly voices behind me and not until I was just about to go up the bus steps, I heard this voice asking, “aren’t you going up, or are you going to stay here all day?” I lifted my head to see who’s talking to me and I found myself facing these big round blue eyes with long eyelashes. Her full lips were red from the lollipop she was holding pulled into a cute smile. I stood there mesmerized, and my mouth slowly opened as I was looking at the long blond hair that hung softly around the smiling face. It felt like the world stopped moving. All I saw was the blond girl. I failed to notice Rina “Margarina” pushing her way trying to get to her seat next to the window and over the wheel. Not until she gave me a shove that almost pushed me to the floor did, I start going up the steps.

I did go up the steps, backward, I saw nothing I felt nothing all I was looking at was the little cute face with the big blue eyes, the full lips and the long blond hair. I didn’t even feel Rina pulling me next to her. All I saw was the new girl sitting next to the window on top of the wheel across the aisle from us. She was still talking to her friend and being very excited she didn’t even notice my stares. Only Rina “Margarina” has felt the change that occurred to me. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked but I didn’t even hear her.

All the way home my eyes were fixed on the new girl. I never learn what was her name. When we dropped her in her village “Michmoret” I tried to remember where her house was. And all the way home I was thinking of the day when I will be in 5th grade and join her class.

That night I was dreaming of the zoo. The huge birds that were as big as elephants were waddling in their fenced ground and next to the fence were walking two kids holding hands and giggling one little boy with dark skin and curly hair and a little girl with big blue eyes and long blond hair.

***

Chickens

   I'll tell you this story if you promise not to tell anyone and keep it a secret between us.

   Meme Milli walked in Friday afternoon, struggling through the door with her suitcase and a large, flat cardboard box that was shaking from side to side. Oddly, every time it moved it made a chirping noise, and it sounded like something was sliding inside.
            "Let me help you, Meme," I said and rushed to the door.
            "Take the suitcase, please," she answered. "Thanks."
            "You're welcome," I said, "what's in the box?"
            "All in good time," she said with a smile. "It's a holiday gift for you and your brother."

   Mom walked in the room looking at the odd box and said, "Now what is this? Welcome and happy Passover Ma"
  Right behind her was Avi, my brother, yelling, " Meme, Meme, what did you get us?"
  We took Meme's case to the bedroom and she put the box on the floor. The noise in the box was getting louder. When she finally opened it, I couldn't believe my eyes; neither could Mom or Avi.

   There were 40, maybe 50, little yellow fuzzy round chicks. They made so much noise when the box was opened.
  "Oh, how cute!" I said.
  "Oh, my god! You're crazy," Mom said. Avi reached out his arm when Mom stopped him saying, "Don't, it's not a toy." She grabbed his hand just before he got to them. He probably would have crushed some. Avi didn't understand his strength.

   That night we kept the chicks in the bathtub with some wet bread. Early the next morning Dad and I started to build a chicken coop. First, we dug holes to put the posts in. Next, we stretched the chicken wire around the posts.
  "You see," Dad explained," the net has to be fine so the chicks can't get out and the weasels can't get in."
  "Dad,"
  "What?"
  "What is a weasel?"
  "It's a skinny long animal that likes to eat chicks, or even big chickens. It catches them by the neck, sucks the blood out of them, and then it eats them."
  "Wow!"
  "And it's a very smart animal, too. It can go through very fine wire fence, or sneak under the fence. That is why we are putting this board on the ground to hold the fence down."

   When we finished the fence and put the gate up, we built a little house where the chicks could sleep at night. For that we also made a door and a lock. Only after we checked to see that there were no holes around the fence and that the little house was safely sealed, did we let the little chicks in.

    We fed them bread soaked in water. Then we bought chicken feed and mixed it with the wet bread.
  "You should let them out once in a while," our next-door neighbor said one day to my dad.
  "They will eat the grass and some worms and that will balance their diet."

   From that day on, we let the chicks out every other day for an hour or so. I became their shepherd and Avi my brother, was my helper. We had to make sure that they didn't leave the property, and that they didn't eat what they weren't supposed to eat. Then, after the hour was over, we had to gather them into their coop. Let me tell you something, it wasn't easy. We had to scream, yell, wave our hands, kick, and what-not to get them in.

   We did that for about a year. Every other day we let them out, watched them, and then gathered them in. Avi developed a game with the chickens. As a matter of fact, there were 39 roosters and one hen. They were like a small congregation. With a leader, a second-in-command, and the rest, with some strong roosters or some just followers. When we were gathering them into the coop, the leader always was the last to go in. Even after they were all in and the gate was shut, the leader would protest. He jumped up on the fence trying to open the gate. Avi loved it. He would stand there and kick the fence. The rooster jumped even higher. Sometimes the second-in-command would join in the fight and jump just as high. Sometimes, I also joined and kicked the fence. They jumped very high; they passed our height every time trying to hit our faces. For some odd reason, they never tried to jump at us when we let them out. Maybe because they relied on the protection of the fence. Maybe because they were happy out there and didn't have any reason to fight, or maybe because it was the two of us against them, and they knew they didn't have a chance.

   One day Avi got sick, and he couldn't come to help me. I was left alone the chickens. No problems! Right? Sure, right. I opened the gate, and just as usual, the chickens stormed out and started wandering around looking for food. I sat down on a bench that Dad had made a long time ago and watched the chickens doing their thing. Suddenly I remembered that Dad wanted me to rearrange the back yard because of the we had made a mess when we played packaging oranges, you know, like in the big plant where they sort the oranges and package the best of them for shipment overseas.

   I got up and started picking up the toys. They were scattered all over the back yard. I walked and picked up the toys, walked and picked up, again and again. When I got to the small and heavy table, the one Mom does the laundry on. I bent over to pick it up and felt something behind me. something was poking my behind. I turned around and that leader of the pack was right in front of my eyes jumping up and down trying to poke me in the face. I dropped the table and tried to scare him away but then came the second-in-command and he also tried to poke me.
  "Ma! Ma!" I yelled and started running away from them. "Ma! Ma! Maaaa!"

    Mom came out wearing a towel around her head. She was still wet from the shower. "What? What happened?" she asked while tightening her shower robe. Then she started laughing, and she laughed loud and laughed again.
  "Mom! Do something!"
  The two roosters were right behind me jumping and poking my behind. I ran faster, but they were right behind me. 
  "Maaaa!”

   Mom stepped out to the yard still laughing. She took the towel off her head and waved it at the wild roosters. The second-in-command turned around, and Mom chased it away, but the leader was still behind me. I ran out of our yard into the street with the rooster behind me. Mom realized that the rooster was still behind me, so she ran to the street, too. I could see all the neighbors looking out of their windows or walking to their gates. By now, I was all the way out at the end of our street at the main street next to the bus stop with the rooster behind me, and Mom, cracking up, waving the towel behind it. Everybody on the street stopped to look at that embarrassing situation. The moment I got to the station; the bus arrived. I jumped into the opened door and looked behind me while the bus started moving. Mom reached the rooster, threw the towel over it, caught it by its legs, and took it back home. At the next station I got off, thanking the bus driver for saving my life and walked out without looking back, but I could feel the stares penetrating my back.

   Guess what we ate for Rosh Hashana's dinner?

***

Wilde Josh

    “Nanou”, Mom called me. “We will be having guests this weekend, so I want you to clean up your room with your brother and clear up the mess in the back yard. Do your homework early so you will have time to play with Yehoshua”.
    “Yehoshua HaParu'aa?” I asked. There is a children song and an illustrated book called “Yehoshua HaParu'aa” it is a translation of a book by Book by German Children writer Heinrich Hoffmann “Struwwelpeter”. It tells about a boy who didn't like to wash, groom himself or even cut his hair and nails. His hair grew long and his nails where so long he couldn't hold anything. His teeth were black and so on.

  “No, silly!” He is the son of Dodah Dolly’s - your uncle Albert's wife's sister. (Are you confused yet? Well, I was.) Do you remember, my mother oldest brother Albert? He married a beautiful, tall blond who came from a famous Rabbi’s family. Her father was a descendant from a long family of Rabbis in Tunisia. By the time they moved to Israel, Dolly has lost most of her blond color of her hair and it turned darker from the hot sun in the Israeli “Negev”.    

    Uncle Albert and his wife Dolly had 2 kids, Yehudit who was 2 years older than me and her brother Haim who was a year younger than me. They just moved into a new apartment provided by “Ami Dar” a governmental co-op that leases dwellings to new immigrants and young couples. It was a two-floors building with an entrance in the front to a staircase that led to the second floor where my uncle’s unit was with another unit in front of his. Each unit had a small yard. The top floor had the yards in the back and the bottom floor had the front yard. Each had a fence and a gate. Uncle Albert had a few tomato plants, some hot pepper and “Na’na” a Mediterranean mint. We Loved to spend time there because besides the plants, they had a lot of toys for children to play with. Even some swings, a slide, and a small sand box. That summer we came to stay with my uncle’s family for a few days.

   Haim wasn’t an agreeable child, he did not like to share his toys and whenever one of us would play on one of the setups, whether it was the slide or the swing he would cry and demand for his turn to play. Unlike him his sister was much friendlier. She did not mind sharing, in fact she loved playing with younger children. She was the “teacher”.
“Come kids, sit in front of me, yes, you too Haim”.
“I don’t want to play with you.” Said Haim.
“If you sit with us, I will let you play with my favorite doll.”
Haim sat and was quite for now.
“Repeat after me,” said Yehudit. “Yismehu HaShamayim” (that means the sky will rejoice).
“Yismehu HaShamayim”, we would repeat the song again and again. “Yiramaya, Yiramaya, Yiramaya aaa Umlo’oh.” Or at least that’s what I thought we were supposed to sing. Being so confused with all the languages I spoke, many times, whenever I didn’t understand a word, in songs or stories I was told, I would assume that it is something I will learn sooner or later. “Everyone knew more than I did,” and there for I took it as is. “Maybe when I grow up, I will learn”.

    It took years before I learned that the song, we were singing was a verse from the book psalms from the bible. A song we sing every Friday evening. Whatever I thought was “Yiramaya” was really “Yir’am HaYam” – the sea will roar. The skies are happy, and the sea and all its inhabitants will roar with praise to God.

   As much as I liked the praise, I received for speaking 3 languages I never felt as part of any group I joined. There was always a feeling or an outsider. Some words I didn’t understand especially in Hebrew.

    Anyway, Dodah Dolly has a sister who lives in Jerusalem and she is coming to visit us for the weekend. They have never been on the beach. Mom invited her to come and stay with us for a few days and go to the beach. Everybody loves to stay with us when they want to go to the beach. Mom is a good host; she cooks and makes sure everyone has a comfortable place to sleep even if we all have to share the same room.
“You will have to share your bed with your brother” she said. “Yehoshua will be sleeping on Avi's bed with his Mother. So, go and start cleaning up your room.”

    You have to understand, when Mom says “your room“ she really means Avi's room. Avi has his own room now with all the toys. I sleep at the entrance to the house on a folding army cot. We play in Avi's room or outside when the weather is nice.
 “We will be going to visit them too.” Mom promised, “when your brother is old enough and you will get to see Jerusalem.”

    The next day both Avi and I were waiting eagerly to meet our new “cousin” and get to show him all the toys we made and play with him. Well, Wild Yehoshua was a clean boy and nicely dressed. But the moment we showed him to Avi's room he jumped on all the toys and within less than five minutes he managed to mess up the room, ran to the back yard and messed it up too. All the work we put was for nothing. The toys were all over the place half of them broken, and when we went to the beach, he almost drowned because he didn't stop running around, his mom chasing him all over until he ran into the sea and a big wave knocking him down. My dad had to jump in and pull him out.
 
    Maybe he wasn't as dirty as “Yehoshua HaParu'aa” but he was just as messy and wild. It took Avi and me a week to fix the toys and the mess he made.

 

***

The Huge Haman-Taschen

            "Purim is coming soon," Leah my favorite teacher announced. "We are going to put on a play for Purim with the second-grade class. Now I want you to behave yourselves like an older class is supposed to."

            She was so pretty. I think that I fell in love with her right from the beginning at the second grade. She was tall and slim. She had dark hair and green eyes, and she spoke so softly and nicely even when I was bad. Now I got used to it, but at the beginning I was so in love that I couldn't concentrate in class. I would daydream about how we would walk on the beach and how she would hold me in her arms and how...

  "Wake up Haim! You are not paying attention again!" she would say to me, and I would look at her with this sorry look so that she would forgive me. Sometimes she would ask,
  "What are you dreaming about all the time?"
Now really, what can I tell her? Put yourself in my place, what would you do? "Sorry teach! I was dreaming about you and me on the beach?" Yeah sure!
  "Uh (or Aw) nothing, I don't know, nothing." this was all I could say.
 
            I remember how last year she took a leave when she was pregnant. Even then she was beautiful. I, Arnon, Shlomo, and Tzviya -- the girl without the underwear -- went to visit her on Shabat day. We spent hours looking for her house and when we finally found it, she was not there. She went to the hospital to deliver a baby girl. I wondered, how that girl will look when she'll grow up. I bet she'll be just as pretty.
           
            Anyway, it just happened that Avi, and I went to see a Purim play at the “Ester Theater”. It was called "The Huge Hamantaschen", and guess what, this was the play our teachers wanted to put on. Do you know the cliché about the ship and the two captains? Well, that is exactly what happened. All of us were outside in front of our classes waiting for our parts and instructions, but it seemed that the teachers couldn't make up their minds.
   "That's not how it goes," my teacher would say, "The old woman doesn't have the flour to bake..."
   "Oh yes, she does," the other teacher would say, "but her husband doesn't have a job and he just..."
   "No, no!" Leah would get angry, but they handled themselves pretty well. They went for advice from the expert.
   "I saw the play last week," I approached them. "Maybe I can help."
   "How well do you remember?" the other teacher asked.
I wanted to answer, but Leah my favorite teacher did it for me.
   "He has a perfect memory. Last week he recited half of the movie he saw. I wish he'd put in the same effort remembering the stuff I teach."

    Here we go again, go tell her that she is the reason I can't concentrate in class. Anyway, they listened to my advice and appointed me assistant director. I also got the part of the hero who saves the poor family and pulls the huge Hamantaschen out of the oven. Even Mom came through. She sowed for me the best soldier outfit from Dad’s old uniform. Together with the “Uzi” toy gun Dad bought that looked so real, I was the perfect hearo.

        The play was a success. Everybody was cheering and clapping, and I had to come out many times to the stage for another bow.
   "You're some artist!" said my beloved teacher. 
    “Well, that's what I want to be when I grow up.”

***

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