Chapter 44, A Sad Purim

   
“Wake up Nanou,” I heard mom whisper, “Dad and I need to go to Be’er Sheva. We just received a telegram, Nonojust passed away”.

“Oh no!” I said sadly.

 “I have your costumes ready for you and your brother laying down on my bed. Breakfast is ready on the table and there is food for lunch too. Dad will be back tonight. Behave yourselves and don’t get in trouble.” 

Nono, Mom’s father was sick for a while. He had a bad stroke a few years before and couldn’t work. Half of his body was paralyzed. He had hard time talking, he forgot Hebrew and French. For some reason he was able to talk only in Arabic and even that was very difficult to understand. Only Meme July understood him. She took care of him all the time. Meme fed him, washed him, shaved him and dressed him. All her time was dedicated to him. Whenever we came to visit them, Mom would take over the kitchen and prepare food for everyone, we would help clean the house so Meme can have a few moments rest. Now she will be resting for a long time. She will have no one to take care of. I wondered how she will continue her life.

For Purim Mom made me a green costume like “Robin Hood’s”, complete with a hat and a feather. I had a wooden sword that I carved out of a long straight branch. I also had a bow and arrows hanging on my back. Avi Dressed up like a girl. He looked like a cute little girl. We walked toward school quietly and enjoyed the costumes everyone else was wearing. Purim is still my favorite holiday. We get to be whatever we want to believe we are. Prince and princesses, king and kings, clowns or wild animals. All the time, Mom was the one who made our costumes, unlike the store-bought kinds that most kids had. We didn’t have the money to spend on this privilege, but Mom’s costumes always looked better, they looked real and convincing. She always made them from leftover material she had hanging around the house. Mom had a pedal sawing machine and enjoyed working with it. She made a lot of our cloths. One of the things she made was a winter coat from one of my Dad’s old army blanket. It had a hood and big buttons and it kept us warm. Whatever she made for me she made one for Avi too. It was easy, because Avi wore the same size as I did, even though he was 2 years younger.

Walking up the stairs to the school I met Yossi Dahari of the seventh grade dressed like a prince with a long plastic sward on his belt.

“Hey! Robin Hood, want to have a swards fight?”

“You don’t have a chance”, I answered “It isn’t like the “air boxing we do when no one actually wins or lose.” We loved playing “air boxing” like the actors in the movies when once in a while we pretend the punch was so hard, we fly backwards like in the Elvis Presley movies that I loved so much. I learned his songs even when I didn’t understand a word I was singing.

“Oh yea?” Yossi continues. “I will get you on the first minute” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I replied. I loved sward fighting. I saw a few movies with Gene Kelly and learned from his moves. To me it was like dancing. I was able to spar and win anyone of our neighborhood kids. I was fast and light on my feet. If only I was as strong as some of them, I wouldn’t get picked on so many times or bullied as much.

“You think you are good at that?” He came and shoved me; I almost fell back down the stairs.

“Look, I am telling you; I don’t want to fight you.”

“Listen to me, you little chicken, do you think that if you are dressed like robin hood, you are him? You have a choice; you spar with me, or I beat you up.

“As You wish, on guard!” Before I finished the word, he launched at me with his sward from above. I deflected it easily and launched forward poking him in his belly.

“That’s not fair!” He screamed, “I wasn’t ready.”

“Sorry!”

“Let’s start over,” he said and extended his sward toward my belly. I averted it easily and tried just defending myself without attacking for a while. Every move he made I was able to deflect. Just before the bell rang, I extended my arm forward to poke his belly once more he deflected my sward upward but didn’t move. The sward hit him one centimeter above his eye and punctured his skin. Yossi without saying a word, turned around and ran to the nurse’s office.

“Before we continue the costume contest,” announced the vice principal Moshe Kotler, “I want to remind you, there will be only ½ a day of school tomorrow. It is “Ta’anit Ester” (the fast of Queen Ester) and Tel Hai Memorial.” Tel Hai is a kibbutz up north in Israel. The story goes that there was a hero who lived there. His name was Josef Trumpeldor. He was wounded in world war 2 and lost his arm. Trumpeldor was one of the Kibbutz leaders and was defending the kibbutz when the Arabs were attacking just before the war of independence. He was shot just before they were able to save the place. The legend was that his last words were “it is good to die for our country”. Yet, I heard that actually, he mumbled some Russian curse that sounded like that Hebrew sentence.

“Friday is a day off,” Moshe continued, “Purim, so have fun. And for now, let’s celebrate and continue with the contest. Who’s first?”

Of course, I didn’t win the contest, I didn’t even come close, there were much more creative costumes. But I had my chance to show off my skills with the sward. One of my favorite creative costumes was “ShoomDavar” – Nothing. The Word Shoom in Hebrew means garlic and “not”. There was a socialistic newspaper called Davar which means “something”. One of the little kids made a hole in the middle of the paper and stuck his head through it. He wore it like a poncho. On top of the “Davar” paper he glued garlic, “Shoom” and here you have it ShoomDavar – Not a thing.

“It was a nice day but the sadness of losing my grandpa was hanging in my conscience. I waited for my brother and we walked home together. Dad came back home late, he told us that we will be going to stay with Mom for the weekend in Be’er Sheva She is sitting “Shiva” – seven days of mourning for her late father. We Took the bus to Tel-Aviv early next morning and from there took the train to Be’er Sheva. There we met with all my cousins, uncles, and aunts. Well, mostly the family on my Mom’s side. It was crowded at Meme’s house, so we split and some of us went to stay at my uncle Rone and His wife Rachel. The next day Dad gave us some money and all of the cousins went to see a movie. Just so we won’t go crazy at Meme’s house. She never liked kids and having all of us at her house would be a little too much for her. “Trinity” was the name of the movie. Some silly western comedy. 

“Let’s play like in the movie,” Suggested Vivi.

“Yeah!” everybody yelled, and we walked to the park that Nono built. At the edge of the park, I found 2 car tires and a wide wood plank. I put the plank on top of one of the tires and started jumping on it. It was a perfect trampoline. I was jumping very high.

“Hey, put the other tire under it” suggested Haim. I piled the tires on top of each other and put the plank on top. It didn’t take long, after two jumps, which were pretty high I hit the side of the plank on my way down. The plant slipped and the other end of it hit me right under the chin. I was bleeding for a long time until aunt Dolly Put a bandage on it. Mom was not happy.

“You went to the movies while I was here sitting Shiva?”

 

***

 

Green Rice (Persian)

 

  Very easy to prepare. One of the popular Persian rice dishes.

 

Ingredients:

1 Cup Basmati Rice

 ½ Cup Chopped Dill

½ tsp Salt

2 Cups Water

 

Preparation:

  After rinsing the 1 cup of rice, (some traditions call to wash it seven times) put it in a deep pot and place on medium fire. Watch it and shake the pot until it dries and crisps a little. Add 2 cups of water with the ½ tsp salt. Bring to boil, cover, and lower the heat to simmer, Check the rice every 5 minutes (depending on your pot and stove) DO NOT stir the rice, just look until it dries, and you see holes in the rice where steams come out. Shut the fire and recover the pot. Chop the dill, mix with rice when the rice is in room temperature. Serve room at temperature or warm.

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