Chapter 96, (Rated R) Germany

     “In three weeks, we will be flying to Germany again,” said Moshe our dance troupe leader. “The town of Netanya will be paying half of our ticket. Each of us will have to pay the other half.”

 “I’m paying nothing.” Said Tzvika, “My mom is the only one working since my dad died in the war.” 

 “We will have to figure it out,” said Moshe. “We are not going without you.”

Tzvika was the best dancer in our group, he had one more year of high school before joining the military but because of the loss of his father to the war he was destined to a lighter post and will be home every evening. I felt bad about the options, Tzvika and Nehemiah became even better friends to me after teaching me all the repertoire of or dance company. I would hate to leave him behind. I wasn’t a rich man, my job at Dad’s wasn’t paying a lot, I wasn’t putting many hours anyway but for some reason I decided to help and offered Moshe that I would pay for Tzvika, if he promised not to tell him. But as we were about to bord the plain in his last speech he expressed his thanks to all the people involved and forgot his promise to me. Tzvika wasn’t happy but said nothing.

 

    They were waiting for us at the airport. Hans, Peter, some other people and a touring bus. Almost everyone from the company knew our hosts, they met them on the last trip to Germany. We were in the northern part of West Germany called Osnabrück, destined to a dormitory of some local club. Peter who was a flight attendant brought a box full of small buttles with schnaps. By the time we arrived at the dormitory we were all a little tipsy. 

 

    The next morning, we were led to a large hall for breakfast. a long table was set for us with nice fresh bread, plates with vegetables spread along the table in between other plates with baloney and cheese set nicely one slide of the meat and one slice of cheese making it look pretty. 

 “I guess they forgot to tell the kitchen we were Jews.” Said Nehemiah. “Mixing the meat with the cheese?”

The interesting part was that no one cared that the meat was pork, but they did mind that it was mixed with cheese.

 

    I, of course, had a different problem; the amount of butter.  I think that in Germany they cooked everything with butter. Even the cookies they gave us on the bus were made with, what felt like 70% butter. I think except for the bread and the breakfast vegetable I ate nothing, that is until I discovered the Italian Ice-cream and of course the beer.

 

    After breakfast we cleared the room for a short rehearsal. We had a performance that night and it looked like almost every day for the next two weeks. Every time at a different location. One of them was an international folk festival which was the main reason we were invited.

After the first performance our hosts threw us a small party. At the dining hall and many people showed up. Tzvika and I started talking to two girls, Susan and Christina. I guess Tzvika forgot he was the boyfriend of Mira’s sister back home. 

 “Let’s go out from this noise,” said Christina to Tzvika and then asked, “coming Susan?” Susan took my hand and we all walked out of the campus toward the quiet street.

 

    “What a crazy driver!” Said Tzvika as a roaring car passed us quickly.

 “A Porch,” I said when suddenly we heard a loud screech and a big bang. We all ran toward the crash and saw the front of the Porch mangled under a big truck. The driver who didn’t have a seat belt on was halfway out of the front shattered windshield, bleeding. People were coming out of the houses, some with a phone in their hand. I let go of Susan’s hand and ran to the crash site. Without thinking much, I reached over and pulled the guy out of the car. The truck driver came out and climbed off the cabin and helped me pull the guy out. We pulled him to the far side of the road when we heard the ambulance and police sirens. But before they arrived the Porch blew up.

 “My hero!” whispered Susan as she kissed my cheek on our way back to the party. Almost everyone was out looking at the accident as police cars and the ambulance were about to leave.

 “What happened?” Asked Nehemiah and Mira.

 “He saved the guy’s life,” said Christina. 

 “Bedtime!” Moshe’s voice came over the noise. I kissed Susan a quick kiss on the lips when her sister gave me one on the cheek.

 

    There was a group of people with down syndrome and their guides sharing our dormitory. I was impressed by how patiently they supported their group. I saw a tall young woman wearing a blue jean overall working with two patients. They were loud and did not cooperate, but she was soft and patience and slowly got them to adhere to her instructions. They were sited on a bench facing the Ping-Pong table the management placed on the lawn. Avi and Nehemiah were playing when they suddenly stopped, looked at the grass and discovered that they actually killed the grass. The grass was all mashed and the dirt below was all exposed. In many places around Israel, you would find signs asking people to avoid stepping on the grass just for that reason. And here, we spent less than an hour playing, and the grass was crushed. They dropped the paddles and walked away.

 “Why did you stop?” asked the tall girl with the overall. “We were having fun looking at you, didn’t we?” She asked her patients.

 “Yes, Yeah, Play! Play!”

Both Avi and Nehemiah didn’t even know they were talking to them – they didn’t speak English.

 “They don’t want to ruin the grass anymore.” I said. 

 “Oh, they shouldn’t worry, as soon as the rain comes down it will grow right back.”

 “I am impressed with the way you handle your patients.” I told her, “What’s your name?”

 “Lisle, and yours?”

 “Tibi” I said. We continued talking that morning about her job and our trip here and what we’re all about. She expressed her wish to visit Israel, so we exchanged phone numbers and addresses.

I promised to write her and keep in touch and left to pack my costumes for our next performance.

 

    Our next performance was at the international festival out in the town square. To our dismay there was no stage to perform. The town square was paved with uneven cable stones. We had to dance wearing our sneakers. Lucky the girls weren’t wearing high hills, except for Rachel but she could dance in anything. The festival was not just for dancing it was a festival of culture, food and BEER. I never knew I liked beer so much. We served beer at our tea house but the amount and way it was presented here was new to me. 

 

    At the bar the night before I sat eating a scoop of ice cream and drank my mug of beer. It came with a coaster made out of recycled paper. It had the logo of the beer company. When I asked the bar tender where one can buy those coasters, I told him about our tea house. He simply walked back to his office and came with a bag full of coasters and handed them to me.

 

    The food served at the festival was not for me either, remember? Butter in everything. Well, except for some of the Turkish food which was very close to what I am used too. I ate some of it but most of all ate that Italian real fruity flavored ice cream.

   There were dance groups from Spain, who danced flamenco, Austrian group with colorful suspenders for the men and country dresses for the men. An extremely boring dance group from Turkey, I learned didn’t really come from Turkey, they were immigrants who were doing the hard cheap labor. But our favorite was the group from France. They came from Normandy, from a town called Le Havre. They had musicians, singers and dancers. Although they weren’t professional, they were a lot of fun. They demonstrated dances from their heritage. We sat together with them for dinner and exchanged addresses and phone numbers. Promising each other to keep in touch. They even invited us to stop at their town if we ever come to France.

    We visited Bergen Belsen on our way to another dance location and stopped at a very reach castle where everything was covered with gold, even the walls. At Hamburg where we were held a little longer because of Pnina who was arrested for shop lifting.

 

    On the way, back to our dorm I saw for the first time in my life a pig. As you know, it was forbidden to rase pigs. (Some kibbutzs grow pigs on high platforms so they won’t desecrate the holy land.) From books and some cartoons, I always imagined pigs to be small and cute. I did not expect that big pink blob of a sow. She was in a large pen all dirty with mud. I felt bad for eating those white stakes in a pita. 

 

    We were invited to a big party at the campus on our last day in Germany. There was a small lifeguards convention. Another group of people I never saw before was there. They were all wearing black, full of tattoos and body piercings. One of them had his key chain hanging on his cheek. Or another one who cut his mouth to make it bigger, but it looks like he regrated it, because he sawed it back with a metal wire.

 

    “I am not going to get into a conversation with any Israeli until they return the lands they stall from the Palestinians!” said a pretty lifeguard from Austria. When I tried to say hi at the bar.

 “I don’t mind talking to Israelis” a prettier red hair girl whispered in my ear. I usually stay away from trying my luck with red haired women. I am not sure why; they simply don’t like me.

 “Want to go out of this noisy place?” I asked handing her a beer mug.

 “I’ll be happy too, thanks!”

 “I guess you don’t belong to this group” I pointed at the self-mutilating people.

 “No, I am a lifeguard.”

 “Me too, but I am here with the Israeli group.”

 “Yes, I know, I saw you dancing at the festival.”

 “Did you like it?”

 “I loved it, and you caught my eyes right away. You are a good dancer!”

 “Thanks, I am still new at this.”

 “Tibi? is that your name?”

 “Yes, that is how they call me, and you?”

 “Beate”

We left the empty mugs on a table outside the hall and walked to the street.

 “I heard you saved a man’s life here the other day.”

 “Nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done, I was just in the right place at the right time.” We turned around and the road led us somehow to my room. But, as soon as we took our shirts off Nehemiah knocked on the door.

 “Hey, Tibi!” He yelled, “you have guests waiting for you at the bar.”

 “I will be there later.”

We snuggled again and as usual, I said that I didn’t want to do anything she would regret tomorrow. Since I am leaving anyway.

 “I will not regret a thing,” she whispered and put her hand down my pants when again, a knock on the door. This time it was Tzvika, “Tibi! Susan and Christina are waiting for you, they want to say goodbye.”

We got dressed and exchanged addresses, promised to write. And walked back to the bar to say goodbye to all or friends as Beate was fixing her hair.

 

***

 

Vegetable Pancake

 

Pancakes are a popular breakfast meal around the world. What a better way to make it a little healthier with vegetables.

 

Ingredients:

2 Eggs

1 Cup Chickpeas

1 Cup of Flour

½ Medium Onion 

1 Zucchini

½ tsp Garam Masala

½ tsp Salt

2 TBSP Olive Oil

 

Soak the chickpeas overnight (or use canned). Crush the chickpeas with the zucchini and onion. Mix all to form a soft mix. Scoop with a spoon and fry on a non-stick pan.

 

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