A meeting one day that was supposed to produce kisses, instead gave rise to a detective operation. A rumor has passed that in one of the houses on the roof there is a brothel, perhaps in a different definition. Opposite the building in question stands a huge building with four entrances. An old stone house and the huge roof, connected as one large area. We left the girls waiting and climbed to the roof. Running crouched along the railing to get to the place. From there you can look out towards the almshouse in question.
Emek-Hazitim Street in Haifa is a street of many exploits and stories. The experience of kissing was done with the help of the game of spinning a glass bottle. The information about a brothel in the heart of the neighborhood caused the bottle to be thrown into the corner. We have not seen anything and it is impossible to see anything. According to the stories that ran around, one could think that the upper floor was made of glass and one could clearly see what was going on inside the apartment.
We would also settle for a fleeting dark figure with an overcoat and brimmed hat. In the coming days we still occasionally climbed to the roof, we no longer went forward crouched for fear of being exposed. We hoped we might see something impossible to see. Very quickly we returned to our games where we achieved much better results and we forgot about the disgrace.
Who did not know Rahab the prostitute, not personally of course, but the expectation at school to hear the teacher say the word. An uproar in the classroom. It is true that commentators stood up and explained that Rachav sold food and the nickname Zona is a derivative of food. Others thought that due to her profession she socialized with many people and the two spies thought they would enjoy it twice. Once to take advantage of the wealth of information she gathered from the greats of the country who came to enjoy her grace and once her services. The midrashic literature presents her as having legendary beauty and performing exploits in her bed.
I hesitated about writing Moshe Kabiri's full name and remembered that he himself was proud and was ready to tell the story to anyone who was willing to listen. We sat a group of friends, all of us much more than before enlistment. Each one with plot stories of truth or maybe not and it turned out that one friend remained a virgin and might end up enlisting before he knew a woman.
All the members are 'seven' occupations (niha) and the suggestion, without any choice, to turn to Rahab, the bread seller, fell on deaf ears. The only one who told the truth, however bitter it was, was Moshe Kabiri. The solution to the financial problem was that each member would contribute some
Ma'at and together we are funded to join the experience that he did not have on his own.
We had to choose Dichi, or Tuta, or maybe the beautiful chubby Khedva at twice the price. The three of them worked in the area of the health fund next to the Amphi cinema. Dichy was Hungary with a beard. Her husband ran around her and made sure that no harm was done to her. It did not hinder his courage, which was short, thin and exhausted. They spoke Hungarian and six words in Hebrew, which made negotiations difficult. Tuta was battered, sick and could barely stand on her thin legs that had bent over the years and looked like she was galloping on a horse in the wild west.
She transferred all her income to Tarzan, who waited for her at the 'Falafel Musa' cafe on Hanaviim Street until the wee hours of the night. Her meager wages and a few moles she hid from Tarzan's prying eyes were used for drugs.
His amazing story about Tarzan, who died in the end in a despondent affair, has already been written for a long time. We waited for the beautiful chubby Hadeva to finish a project in the dark courtyard of the health fund and went out into the street straightening her dress. Two representatives approached her for negotiations. The beautiful Hadva who was more beautiful than chubby understood the purpose of the meeting and received a therapeutic sum without a tax invoice. I am guilty of not remembering how much it is, maybe we would collect the debt with interest, linkage and improvement. A business mistake that resulted in a loss of investment.
The gist of the story we collected money from all the friends and the virgin friend was sent on a mission. After a few nerve-wracking minutes he emerged from the darkness all jubilant and speechless. After a while, Moshe Kabiri joined the army and perhaps because of the new manhood that was born in the dark courtyard of the health fund on Halutz Street, he joined the paratroopers and became an expert medic in close combat and as a thank you for our contribution to the cause they very cruelly demonstrated on us elimination exercises that almost achieved their goal.
Between myself I ponder, what would happen if I were a candidate for Prime Minister and someone malicious, and there is no shortage of such, would reveal a small cluster of my childhood misdeeds. I probably wouldn't have been allowed a position as a third assistant to a tailor fixing hems on the top floor of the basement in the wholesale market of Damascus Lower III.
Without a 'completed graduate' certificate, our friend passed the performance test with great success and the vision is the beautiful and smart children and grandchildren he brought into the world.
PS - I note with great joy that I acquired my expertise in Haifa's nightlife by being a musician who plays at night and in the middle of the night he used to look for a taxi to take him home.
Nice story, where is Haifa at night?
PS Write: I hesitated to write.
Chal: I was debating whether to write
A great story, written beautifully and fluently and it's hard to believe that all of this happened in Haifa, which is said to have been a "sleepy working-class city"