Chapter 11, Neveh Shalom
1961
"The taktok, the taktok is here! The taktok is here!" Avi rushed in yelling, "Come. Let's play outside and see the Taktok." Avi was just three years old, he didn't speak very well. Taktok is a tractor in Avi's language.
"Look what you did!" Tata Beya yelled at him in Arabic. (Remember? She spoke only Arabic.) "You brought all the dirt in the house. You always do that! You rush in, and you forget to wipe your feet."
Avi looked at her very seriously and listened patiently ‘til she finished. Then he yelled back, "Blah, blah, blah, blah!" and ran outside. You see, Avi does not speak or understand Arabic.
Tata Beya was staying with us for the summer. We just moved from the shack in Havatzelet to this bigger place in a Yemenite neighborhood called “Neveh Shalom” - the peace pasture. I say Yemenite because most of the residents of that neighborhood came from Yemen.
"The rent is a little higher," Dad said, "but the place is bigger, and we are closer to downtown. This summer Tata Beya will stay with us, and I expect the best behavior from you guys. Nanou, you will translate between her and Avi, so I don't expect any problems."
Sure, no problems. Avi never had the patience to listen either to Dad's old aunt or to my translations. Besides, she spoke Arabic so fast that I didn't have a chance to translate before Avi made his usual remark, which most of the time was "Blah, blah, blah," and running out.
The new house was not new. It was a small single-family house in our landlord's back yard. Our landlord, Mr. Okev, just like the rest of our neighbors, was from Yemen, a small country in the south of Saudi Arabia. They came to Israel in the early years of the state's development, by foot or on operation “Magic Carpet”. Yemenite Jews who lived in that desert country never saw an airplane and when they were brought to Israel, packed sitting on the plane’s floor, they were sure they were flying on a magic carpet.
The Yemenite Jews, as it was believed, are the closest people to our ancient ancestors. They preserved their traditions and way of life as much as possible. Even the pronunciation of the Hebrew language is ancient. Whenever I went to their synagogue, I had a hard time sitting there, because of their different accent, I could never understand or follow what they were reading. Mr. Okev came to Israel on the operation “Magic Carpet”. He walked for two hundred miles to the airport with his family and all of his belongings, in order to fly to Israel. Mr. Okev promised God that when, and if, he reached Israel, he would build a house of worship, and so he did. He built a synagogue in front of his house, facing the street.
Mr. Okev was from a very rich family in Yemen. He left all the land that he owned and his business so he could come back to the “Promised Land”. When he arrived in Israel, he sold the jewelry that he had collected and built his house. It just happened that while he was building the town of Netanya was developing this neighborhood and the big land movers were paving a new road to make a modern street.
For us kids it was a new playground and an amusement park. We would play in the freshly uncovered dirt, build sand towers, and throw dirt balls at each other that would explode when they hit their target without causing any damage to the skin. This was our favorite war game. No wonder Avi was so excited to see the big bulldozer.
Mr. Okev had three daughters and a young son. The oldest one was married to Mr. Gamil, the milk man who worked in the small moshav, Avihayil on the northeastern side of Netanya. Every night I would go to their house (also in the Okev's back yard) to fetch the milk for Mom. Mom and Dad loved to experiment with the milk, since they had so much, they made hot cereals or even butter. Unfortunately, the smell of the hot milk made me sick to my stomach, so they had to prepare it in the shower.
The Gamil family had two sons, Itai and Gabi. Mrs. Gamil was pregnant, and they were hoping to have a girl. Itai was my age, but he went to the orthodox preschool “Moriya”, and the only time we met to play was after school or on vacations. Gabi was Avi's age and was home all the time. He played with Avi whenever he wanted. Mr. Okev's other two daughters lived at home with him. The young one, Tova, was engaged to be married, and the middle one, Ester, was working with Mom and Dad at the diamond polishing plant.
Next to the Okev's yard was the Makolet. That's what we call the little grocery store. It means a store that has everything. Sa’adya, the owner of the Makolet, had an orange orchard in his backyard, Navel oranges. They start to ripen late in the season, and Mom bought them from him every week until the season was over. Sa’adya had two daughters and a son. The young son was in the army. The oldest daughter was working in the bank, and the middle daughter, the pretty one, was a flight attendant on the Israeli airline, El Al. Shoshana was her name, and she thought that I was the cutest boy she had ever seen. So, every time I came to the store, she would ask, "How is my favorite boyfriend doing today?" Unfortunately, she wasn't there all the time. She had to fly around the world. But when she was there, she would sing songs to me and tell stories about the places she visited in her travels.
"I can't take it anymore," said Tata Beya, "Your brother is driving me up the walls. Go and tell him that I'll report everything to your mom when she comes home, and he will regret it for a long time."
The problem with Avi was that you couldn't teach him a lesson. He had a mind of his own. When Mom punished him, he didn't care. Even when Mom smacked his little tushy, he didn't cry. He would yell, "It doesn't hurt! It doesn't hurt!" Mom's hand would start to hurt, and he just laughed and didn't cry.
I walked out to look for him, but he wasn't in our yard. He wasn't on the street playing with Gabi, either.
"He went to Sa’adya's," said Itai when he saw me looking for my lost brother. There was Avi in the orange grove playing with a big rake. It was two feet taller than he was. Avi lifted the rake up above his head and dropped it in front of him yelling, "I'm a Taktok, I'm a Taktok."
"Put that rake down," I ordered and went toward him. "That's not how you use it. You should just pull it and rake the leaves, not dig with it!"
You may think he listened, but no, not Avi. He just picked it up and dropped it down again and again.
"Stop!" I yelled coming closer to him. "You might hurt yourself. Put it d..."
I never had the chance to finish my sentence. Avi turned toward me and dropped the rake on my head.
***
Humus
One of the most popular middle eastern food. Humus is served almost in every restaurant in the middle east. It could be served as a main course or a side dish. There are many versions of preparing it. This is my favorite.
Ingredients:
1 Cup of dry Chickpeas soaked in water over night (or one can)
Juice of ½ Lemon
2 Crushed Garlic cloves (I prefer roasted garlic but fresh will do too)
1 tsp Salt
2 Green Pitted Olives
2 TBSP Raw Techina (sesame paste)
2 TBSP Olive Oil
1 TBSP Roasted Pine Nuts
Optional; 2 TBSP Fava Beans
Topping:
1 TBSP Roasted Pine Nuts
1/2 tsp Chopped Fresh Parsley
1 TBSP Virgin Olive Oil
Preparation:
Boil the chickpeas for about 20 minutes. Drain and save the water. If you are using a can of the chickpeas skip the cooking part and just save the water from the can. Blend all the ingredients with emersion blender while the chickpeas are still hot (add a little of the hot water if you want it to be smoother). I know of some restaurants who don’t use a blender, instead they use a special wooden masher.
Some may use roughly crushed chickpeas or cooked fava beans in the mix. Decorate with roasted pine nuts, paprika, and parsley.
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