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LL's avatar

OMG. I read the Aleppo Codex which led me to read Spies of No Country, which was deeply unnerving because he mentions meeting someone at a mall in a city right outside Tel Aviv. Based on the description, and the fact that the guy was originally from Iraq, I was.pretty sure this was the mall in the corner of Jabotinsky and Bialik in Ramat Gan. There are old people who gather at the McDonald's there every day who schmooze (ha) in Arabic. My mom would take us there to hang out because my grandmother decided to opt out of air conditioning and we spent most of August in Israel with my mom's family. Anyhoo. When I was a kid I would just hear Yiddish accented Hebrew at home and then my aunt would take me shopping and I would hear Hebrew with a strange accent. My aunt told me it was Arabic.

Also. My grandparents almost lived in Bat Yam but my grandmother hates it there so they moved to Ramat Gan.

Also I didn't realize so few people went to a kibbutz. My grandmother's only relatives who survived the war were cousins who made aliyah in the 1930s and all went to 1 kibbutz. Each had 1 child, only 1 of whom stayed in the kibbutz. He had two kids, only one who is still on the kibbutz.

Oh. My dad went to Israel to live on a kibbutz when he was in college. I don't know why that stopped. Probably a result 9f the 6 Day War, when Israel stopped being a liberal darling.

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Dvoralai's avatar

Great conversation - do bring Motti back!

I spent a few summers back in the early 1980s at a religious kibbutz - Alumim (located near the Gaza strip, ooffff) - working in the vineyards, chicken houses and even the machinery workshop (not the usual tasks permitted for their female visitors) - learning some hands on skills while i studied to be an agricultural engineer at a university in the UK. We don’t hear much about kibbutzim anymore, a shame.

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