2024-01-27 04:55:26
“Get the girl a passport,” my mother implores me. When the war started, some of my sisters planned where they were going to fly at least until the fury passed. One inquired about Cyprus, read in some article that there is a mass immigration of Israelis, that there are no taxes and that life is much cheaper. Another one called her good friend in Los Angeles and she answered with “Well, when is your flight?”. “And what about you?” asked my mother, “it’s dangerous here for a girl.”
On behalf of the seniors who did not take responsibility: I apologize to Idan Amadi Ben Caspit
To deal with the fighting period, remember “because a tree has hope”. opinion
We are a patriotic family, all of us, lovers of the country. My grandfather was a Bethelite, and my second grandfather founded synagogues and insisted that they also have consistent and long Zionist classes. But at the beginning of October, something happened, this fear that we are on the threshold of a third world war throbbed in all of us, especially in my parents, whose age gives its signs and every event that happens, also If tiny, amplified fourfold (and an event like the one that happened here was anyway difficult to amplify more than it is).
“There are no queues for passports right now,” I excused myself, “and I also need permission from her father.” My ex-husband and I have pretty good communication regarding the girl, I could call him and ask, in the end it also happened, and he went to a lawyer and signed an authorization to issue her a passport, but my mother didn’t wait, what did she do? She hung up on me and called him.
“Puppy, this is Margalit,” she told him, “what about a passport for the girl? Something will happen! Get a passport for the girl.” My mother always loved him, to this day he helps her every time she breaks something at home and leaves with a full and bloated stomach because of it. She didn’t have to ask twice, and really within two days I had a signed letter from the same lawyer who also drew up our divorce agreement. Wonderful.
And in the midst of all this chaos, among the names of the murdered and their stories, from time to time there are reports about the lack of flights, and the tickets for those already departing are being hijacked, even if at exorbitant prices, by Israelis who travel to Athens, Limassol, Madrid, because it is safer there.
I went in to take a look, the queues for passports were really horrible, but between us, if you’re really stressed and there’s enough gas in the car, you can always find a quick queue between now and then in some city in Israel.
I made it a hobby. Between the runs to the MMD, the threats from Russia, Iran and our friend who does not advocate changing clothes, Nasrallah, I checked queues for passports, and every time I almost gave up, there was something better to do, like preparing food for the soldiers or collecting clothes from Gefen for the evacuees. I mostly remember the apologies. People who uploaded to their social networks photos from all kinds of countries in the world and in the title did not write “new beginning” or “vacation, we started”, but “we needed some quiet”, “a break from everything” or, the winner: “the children asked so we went”.
You are allowed to be afraid, you are allowed to choose life and escape, more than that! Back in my childhood, when we were taught in schools about the martyrs and the Jews who had to convert their religion in order to continue living, I did not understand those who gave up and chose the gallows, after all, “and you chose life” is a commandment from the Torah and faith is in the heart. I did not judge, and how can you judge someone for something after October 7 ? A man who is honest in his own eyes will do. In the past, people who left the country were mocked, relocation was considered a rude word, they called them “repatriates” and refused to speak in their praise, even if they had done a good job. If you came to this country and it is in its infancy, how will you leave it? It’s like abandoning a newborn baby. A little gassy, so let’s go? But this time it was really scary.
The days passed, I occasionally checked with my sisters how their temporary move abroad was progressing. The first one said that she and her partner were supposed to have a meeting with a man who organizes a smooth transition to Cyprus (how Israelis like to invent professions) and every time she had something at the last minute and she canceled . I smiled to myself, she too, like me, was not there 100 percent. When she realized that I was satisfied, she defended herself and said: “But there is no way we are not going, the IDF is entering Gaza, there will be a mess here.”
I also asked my second sister, “What about the American dream?” “What dream?”, her husband shouted in the background, “Do you know how much a plane ticket to the United States costs? It’s better if they kill me here, anyway I’ll have a heart attack when I transfer the credit.” “Soon the prices will drop and then we’ll go,” she said. I smiled again.
Only on Sunday this week, three and a half months since the fighting began, did I bring myself to make an appointment to issue a passport, the closest appointment I found was in Ashdod. I took all the necessary documents and on the way I smiled to myself, I imagined me and her at EuroDisney, we have a small cash register where we put a few shekels and bills every week, and when I ask her, “Why are we saving?”, she answers, “To France, to meet Minnie Mouse and Gopi! “. She is still small there, so I decided that at least in July or August I will take her to Cyprus for a few days, Ototo is 3 years old and already such a good little friend.
I arrived at the bureau in Ashdod, this morning about 40 minutes from Rishon Lezion, the bureau was packed, I waited in line for about 50 minutes until my number was called. I approached the clerk, took out all the forms and answered the questions she asked: where was Gefen born, what was the last name of her paternal grandfather, why am I called “single” on my identity card and not “divorced” (we got married in the Conservative rabbinate), etc.
I already took out the credit card to pay, until she said: “Great, now pick up the girl and sit in front of the camera.”
“Which girl?” I asked.
“Yours, isn’t she with you?”
“What not! Should I have brought her?” I was surprised.
“You’re kidding, aren’t you? Of course you had to, how would they photograph her? She must be present.” I took all the documents from her hands in a very awkward silence, muttered something stupid like “I’ll come tomorrow”, and walked away in shame.
Believe me, “Maariv” readers, it’s good that I don’t run this country or even a branch of Aroma, what shame and what was I thinking?
I’m not a particularly spiritual type, but apparently this is not the time to issue a passport, and between us? I didn’t want to that much either. This is our country, if it’s good – then it’s good for all of us, we’ll walk together along the paths of the country, we’ll sing homeland songs and sometimes we’ll throw crown chairs at each other to diversify, and if it’s bad and shit, then we’re all one hand, and we’ll all wallow in it until our children come home.
On the way back from the Ministry of the Interior, I called my sisters on a conference call, I told them what had happened. One wasn’t surprised and just whispered, “I’m shocked that you have a career.” The other laughed a big laugh, and finally we decided what each of us would bring to the 10th eve of Shvet that we would celebrate together. Needless to say, no one has left or will leave.
I entered the spice shop. “Do you have a box like this of dried fruit for Tu Beshavt?” I asked.
“A second,” he answered me. He is a member of a Yemeni family that everyone buys from in Shikon Ha Mizrah, and it always seems as if he gets annoyed that buyers disturb him during his day.
He turned up the volume of the radio, pointed to it and sang along with Shlomo. “A person should have a word / a little place in the world / love that is not forgotten / and a real voice for prayer / and a perfect moment / to give and take / and not be afraid of fear.” I would have happily joined him, but there was another rather handsome customer standing in the store and I was ashamed, so I sang with him in my heart and was happy About this beautiful and strange homeland that welcomed us to it.
#country #Marcel #moral