January 30, 2009
A little girl, no more than 18 months, dressed in a pink winter coat with a blue pacifier in her mouth stood on a chair in front of the bright green screen of a cash machine at the bank in our small, local complex of stores. She frantically pushed on the screen and pleaded with her father, or at least it sounded like pleading to me, who was standing 10 meters away, in conversation with one of the merchants. After 20 seconds or so, her father came over, picked her up, threw her over his head and caught her in a strong embrace, maybe telling her the password as she continued to plead.
Linda and I were walking down Ha Rav Herzog, the street that goes from Bavli St. to Namir and then changes names to Yehuda Ha Maccabi. We talking as we passed a group of school girls, who looked about 10 or 11, talking animatedly, when suddenly one of them overheard us and said, “English.” I asked them where they were headed, were they on their way home from school, because it was a half day with things winding down as the community prepares for Shabbat. “We are going to have ice cream,” said one, with a big smile. I asked their names and Danielle (who had told us about the ice cream) introduced herself, as did Yuval, Karin, Noa and one other). They had various experiences with English; a few had been studying for 3 years, another’s mother spoke English. After they picked up the pace, I called out, “b’vachasha (please)” so that we could get a picture, to which they were happy to oblige, leaving us with an adorable memory.
Continuing on our excursion to the Old Port, no longer a port, but a re-developed area with many shops and a small farmers’ market, we came to the Hungarian Blintzes restaurant and were glad that we stopped for lunch, sharing two piping hot spinach cheese blintzes and two cold, sweet jam and nut blintzes. As we finished, the friendly, attentive waiter brought over two shot glasses, one with a rich chocolate liquor and the other a rich custard-like liquor. I’m sure we’ll be going back.
Our entrance to the port area brought us face-to-face with a large, red Ace Hardware sign, apparently one of the many shops in this development. I could not pass up a hardware store and immediately upon entering, I felt the ambience of every Ace Hardward I had ever been in, except here the prices were all in shekels. The clerks even had the same golf shirts as uniforms. In our wanderings in Tel Aviv so far, we have passed literally dozens of tiny shops and stalls that carry electrical adaptors or kitchen implements or laundry equipment, but none with the selection of all of these items found in this storey. I had been wondering about whether there were large “big box” stores in Tel Aviv, the kind that put so much pressure on these types of small, family-owned shops.
We came upon the Separation Beach. This beach, walled off by a 7 foot opaque barrier, is for the Orthodox community. The sign indicated that it was open for men on Friday, Sunday, and Tuesday and women on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. The sea obviously was not walled off, so I don’t know what happens if other bathers peak from the water.