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2016
מאי
105
אדריכלות ישראלית
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1-4
פרויקט השנה - מקומות
95
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editorial
editorial
The leap year aborted the May issue on Independence Day. Don't dare write anything negative, I muttered to myself,
think positive, as if you were writing the text for the lighting of the beacons to the glory of the state of Israel, and our
neighbors. Symbolizing the sharp transition from Memorial Day to Independence Day, the moving event enjoys maximum
national consensus and, as someone worried about losing even one subscription due to a typo, or a cynical comment that
occasionally overcomes me, I adopted the idea.
And it goes like this: I am Zion from Jerusalem (or vice
versa), the son of Sarah, Hagar and Abraham from Beer
Sheva, remnant of the Exodus from Egypt, descendant
(undoubtedly) of King David, his wife Batsheva and her
husband Uriah the Hittite, who fell in battle - proud to
announce that we have a great place, wonderful weather, as
clear a sea as Greece, fantastic people who always leave the
place clean and tidy when they leave, intelligent members of
Knesset, a Prime Minister who is humble from the armpits
up, honest ethical ministers, faultless mayors, unprejudiced
Rabbis, a Wall in which to insert notes, courts that provide
an abundant living for more than thirty-thousand families of
attorneys, comfortable, quick and safe public transportation,
and terrific architecture.
Happy and satisfied with all the gifts we’d received from ‘You
have Chosen us' or his wife Evolution, we took a trip to dip
the eggs that remained from the Seder, in what remained
of the Dead Sea. We chose Kalia Beach – only 57 NIS per
head– and sat down near the lifeguard who periodically
announced in his mother-tongue: “Ya Mister, come closer so
I don’t have to bring you out drowned".
Although signs clearly said not to dip your head in the water, we blundered a bit because of the muddy pits, but never mind,
they say that the black mud, which takes two weeks to get rid of, is good for wrinkles.
The cool breeze caressed the burns below the belt with the tenderness of a Mother Teresa, while bathers, decorated with
mud – mainly residents from Nablus, Jericho, East Jerusalem, and other religions – reminded us that the beach, until not
long ago, was under the rule of the king of Jordan. And this really didn't spoil the chummy atmosphere, the likes of which
has not been seen on the Mediterranean shores of ping-pong rackets and barbeques since Herod’s time, not to mention
other holiday spots saturated in garbage.
We searched for a knife… to cut the spinach-stuffed pastries, generously offered to everyone by a woman, who came out
of the water fully dressed, as if we were guests at her daughter's wedding.
The calm, peaceful atmosphere reminded me of my Polish neighbor who always said that a good neighbor is better than
a bad relative. And she was right. The random event filled our souls with hope for a better future, perhaps even more
effective, than - God forbid - any threatening slip of the tongue.
And to the glory - of - the state of Israel!
Architect Dr. Ami Ran
salted eggs