from their children that Israelis didnât like kissing every new acquaintance.
All that week the man toured Barcelona with her, showing her all the cityâs beauty spots, and she had to admit that Barcelona was much prettier than her hometown, Haifa. In the afternoon they made sure to turn up, in accordance with family tradition, for lunch at two thirty, with freshly squeezed orange juice, and to dinner at nine. Twice after dinner, they went back to her home early and stayed up chatting with Mercedes and Jorge, but he didnât stay the night.
She found it quite difficult to get used to the fact that she was required to show up twice every day at his parentsâ home for meals, but the food was always so tasty that she decided she shouldnât complain. She told him she wanted to learn Spanish, and he enrolled her at the university for a one-month intensive course for foreigners.
A month later she was already able to chatter whole sentences in Spanish; Mercedes was terribly proud of her and said that she had never encountered anyone who had learned to speak Spanish so quickly.
She reckoned that she had found Spanish so easy to learn because she knew Romanian from her parents, and the two languages are very similar. More than anything, she loved to talk with Paula, his Italian aunt, who also felt herself a foreigner, having lived in Barcelona for only ten years, and could sympathize with her occasional homesickness. She especially missed her sister.
His sister arrived with the French boyfriend she had met at the Hebrew University, and together they took their fatherâs car and set out for a two-week tour, which covered the length and breadth of southern Spain. She was happy to be able to speak Hebrew all day long. His sister was very pleasant and modest, not at all the person she had heard screaming at him in French on the phone. They loved touring with her and watching her excitement at every new town and township they visited; it was, after all, the first time for her in the big wide world, whereas the man, his sister, and her boyfriend had been born there. She was like a small child discovering a wonderful world for the first time, and she infected them all with her enthusiasm.
The first time she walked into a church, her breath caught. They took photographs beside each and every town square, and she posed alongside every statue they saw of the VirginMary or any of the many other Spanish saints; she pulled all kinds of funny faces to amuse her parents when she got home and showed them the pictures, so they could experience with her the wonderful time she had in Spain. In Toledo she was moved to tears at the sight of the old Jewish synagogue, which has remained in all its former glory; she was overcome with emotion and started crying, as if it were a place she had already been to in the past.
After a fairy-tale two-week trip, they returned to Barcelona, right in time for the Jewish New Year. She and his sister helped Luna a little in the kitchen, and more in laying the table. They were given precise instructions as to how to place the napkins and the best silver cutlery and, of course, the Rosenthal dinner service from the dresser, which was removed from the dresser for traditional holy days.
It was the most impressive meal she had ever participated in, and the food, naturally, was traditionally Jewish. The chicken soup was served with thin noodles or soup almonds that his mother always bought in Israel, since soup almonds are a purely Israeli invention. The second course was an excellent dish of gefilte fish, prepared by Luna with sharp horseradish that she bought in Perpignan. They used to go to Perpignan every four months to fill up their refrigerator with various French foods, such as fine salamis, mustards, cheeses, and of course, butter. His parents still missed French food, even though they had been living in Barcelona for nigh on thirty years. Thus, three times a yearthey traveled to Perpignan
All that week the man toured Barcelona with her, showing her all the cityâs beauty spots, and she had to admit that Barcelona was much prettier than her hometown, Haifa. In the afternoon they made sure to turn up, in accordance with family tradition, for lunch at two thirty, with freshly squeezed orange juice, and to dinner at nine. Twice after dinner, they went back to her home early and stayed up chatting with Mercedes and Jorge, but he didnât stay the night.
She found it quite difficult to get used to the fact that she was required to show up twice every day at his parentsâ home for meals, but the food was always so tasty that she decided she shouldnât complain. She told him she wanted to learn Spanish, and he enrolled her at the university for a one-month intensive course for foreigners.
A month later she was already able to chatter whole sentences in Spanish; Mercedes was terribly proud of her and said that she had never encountered anyone who had learned to speak Spanish so quickly.
She reckoned that she had found Spanish so easy to learn because she knew Romanian from her parents, and the two languages are very similar. More than anything, she loved to talk with Paula, his Italian aunt, who also felt herself a foreigner, having lived in Barcelona for only ten years, and could sympathize with her occasional homesickness. She especially missed her sister.
His sister arrived with the French boyfriend she had met at the Hebrew University, and together they took their fatherâs car and set out for a two-week tour, which covered the length and breadth of southern Spain. She was happy to be able to speak Hebrew all day long. His sister was very pleasant and modest, not at all the person she had heard screaming at him in French on the phone. They loved touring with her and watching her excitement at every new town and township they visited; it was, after all, the first time for her in the big wide world, whereas the man, his sister, and her boyfriend had been born there. She was like a small child discovering a wonderful world for the first time, and she infected them all with her enthusiasm.
The first time she walked into a church, her breath caught. They took photographs beside each and every town square, and she posed alongside every statue they saw of the VirginMary or any of the many other Spanish saints; she pulled all kinds of funny faces to amuse her parents when she got home and showed them the pictures, so they could experience with her the wonderful time she had in Spain. In Toledo she was moved to tears at the sight of the old Jewish synagogue, which has remained in all its former glory; she was overcome with emotion and started crying, as if it were a place she had already been to in the past.
After a fairy-tale two-week trip, they returned to Barcelona, right in time for the Jewish New Year. She and his sister helped Luna a little in the kitchen, and more in laying the table. They were given precise instructions as to how to place the napkins and the best silver cutlery and, of course, the Rosenthal dinner service from the dresser, which was removed from the dresser for traditional holy days.
It was the most impressive meal she had ever participated in, and the food, naturally, was traditionally Jewish. The chicken soup was served with thin noodles or soup almonds that his mother always bought in Israel, since soup almonds are a purely Israeli invention. The second course was an excellent dish of gefilte fish, prepared by Luna with sharp horseradish that she bought in Perpignan. They used to go to Perpignan every four months to fill up their refrigerator with various French foods, such as fine salamis, mustards, cheeses, and of course, butter. His parents still missed French food, even though they had been living in Barcelona for nigh on thirty years. Thus, three times a yearthey traveled to Perpignan
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