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Ted’s Aliyah, Day 5

Again, this is not MY writing, it is the only-slightly-deranged musings of my very talented husband, Teddy (Akiva) MacLeod.  If you like his writing, check out his art (sort of!).

IMG_00002396 Day Five (Sunday)
Woke up again to the comforting Hebrew words of the lifeguard on his bull-horn this morning. “Hey, you MORONS, don’t swim out so far!! Don’t you know there are sharks in the area?”
Went downstairs with the kiddies and were told to come back at 11:00 for a big “clown” show that they were putting on for all the kids in the building. So we came back at the designated time as the show was beginning. The show, which consisted of the typical speaker setup that all Israeli shows have, (playing upbeat, yet mournful music), a laser light machine, a bubble machine, a small stage decorated with a playful pirate theme and the “clown”. The clown being a guy in a sweaty t-shirt and a silver hat.
The clown did a few kid-friendly tricks such as setting a book on fire and making things with balloons, among others, a toilet seat that he hung around a kid’s head. Then he really put the kids through their paces with tug of war games and potato sack races, all within the fifteen foot confines of the stage.
My kids sat watching, probably in horror, at all this culture shock. At the end they had the dancing part of the show. Imagine a room full of about 30 Ethiopian kids dancing first to the Macerena, followed by the embarrassing Gangnam-style, with a few stern Russian teachers trying to encourage my two little white-bread, home-schooled children into participating. Forget it!
Later on in the day, we went to the beach before supper. I was hoping to tire them out, so the bedtime routine would be easier, which it never is. It usually ends with GZ shouting that he “ISN’T TIRED!”, followed by a little bit of bothering of Naomi, before he finally settles down.

(the picture isn’t Ted’s, it’s mine, and shows Naomi Rivka’s school, which I found on my way home from the optometrist, where I went to fix Gavriel Zev’s broken glasses – which they did for free, and even complimented me on my good Hebrew!!!  Note to self:  “ofen” means nosepiece.  I think.)

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