Newcomers in an Ancient Land by Paula Wagner

Author:Paula Wagner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2019-09-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

MOVING TO KIBBUTZ DAN

By February of 1964, the ulpan on Ein Hashofet was coming to an end, which also meant René would be returning to his army unit on Kibbutz Dan. After my late night oui to his proposal, it went without saying that I would go with him. Still, I worried about what to tell the Feins. They already knew René was my boyfriend, but I hadn’t discussed any future plans with them, in part because I sensed they hoped I’d stay on at Ein Hashofet. As the time grew closer, I gathered the courage to tell them I had some news to share.

Avram wore a serious look as he ushered me into their small bungalow for tea the following Shabbat. He and Frieda had once lived in a tzrif like mine, but now, as vatikim (senior members), they shared a two-room apartment with a tiny kitchen. Frieda looked up from making tea to greet me with her usual reserve. Naomi and Ruth rose to meet me in the living room, but their welcome seemed lukewarm. Seeing them all together gave me the uneasy feeling of a family conference like the ones my father would call whenever there was a family crisis. As Frieda poured the tea and Ruth passed around a plate of marbled coffee cake, we made small talk. But soon an ominous silence fell over the room until finally Avram cleared his throat.

“Vell, you haf something to tell us?” he intoned, sounding for all the world like my father, except for his Polish accent.

Anxiety mounting, I blurted out my news: Now that the ulpan was coming to an end, I’d decided to go to Kibbutz Dan with René. There, I’d said it!

In the excruciating pause that followed, the Feins exchanged agonized looks, as if none of them wanted to be the first to speak. It was Ruth who broke the silence.

“Paula, our family has been thinking about your, uh, relationship with this young Frenchman. To be perfectly honest, we’re divided about it, so we’ll each speak for ourselves.”

Divided? I bristled. What business was this of theirs, anyway? But as I waited for her to continue, Avram cut in.

“You see, Frieda and I—well, ve vorry that you are still very young. This, uh, Frenchman, maybe he doesn’t mean the best for you.”

Instantly, my defenses rose like the ramparts of Akko. Why did they insist on calling him a Frenchman when he was an Israeli citizen just like them?

But now that the subject had been broached, Avram and Naomi launched a volley of misgivings, reinforced by Frieda’s knowing nods. Their fears pierced my shield of anger like shrapnel. Only Ruth held her peace.

“As friends of your parents, we feel responsible for you . . . René is too old for you . . . he’s taking advantage of you . . . only looking out for himself . . . he’s lazy, sexy, and manipulative like all the French . . . he’s not to be trusted .

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