Page 20 - Kol Bogrei Habonim - November 12
P. 20
HANDS UP WHO WENT TO HABO*
ANGIE JACOBS, LONDON
Hands up if you went to Habonim in the 70s. My Sloop John B was my favourite, but I could
hand is up. Hands up if your mum pronounced it never get on with the one about the Court of
HaBONim rather than HaboNIM. My hand is King Caractacus. Then there were the games –
still up. I loved it, I would do anything to go Machanayim was fun although there was always
back in time and re-live those days of heady, one kid who was a bit rough.
good old fashioned fun youth. We learnt about sharing – each putting money
I started going by accident. Every Sunday into the “kuppah” or kitty for food. The premise
afternoon my parents would host what we used was that you put in what you could afford, but
to call The Glee Club. The attendees were my everyone got the same amount out – Socialism at
grandparents plus half the residents of the Leeds its cutest. Again, I probably wasn’t the most
Jewish Old Aged Home. All good menschdik generous or honest of folk. Wow, Sunday
folk, like my mum and dad, but at 10 years old I afternoons sure was a sugar high. But G-d sees
couldn’t get out quick enough. I would kiss them everything and I’ve suffered with a slow
hello, politely accept any donations, wipe the metabolism all of my adult life.
lipstick off my face and skip on out to the Sadly, I only went to Habonim for two years. My
Moadon. I’d arrive back just after 5 o’clock as friends all started going to BBYO and I,
my dad would be piling them into his Volvo. I’d pathetically, followed them. I hated fashion, I
finish off all the Scotch Pancakes and hated make up, but still I went. Like Pam Ayres
Florentines while slowly helping my mum to wished she’d looked after her teeth (seventies
clear up. poetry People, stay with it), I wish I’d kept going
Youth groups were big in the Provinces in the to Habonim.
70s. Each had its own identity and agenda. But let’s not get too maudlin. Let’s get back to
Habonim was about jeans and Zionism. the best part about Habo – the camps. As soon as
Ostensibly it didn’t matter what you wore – I started attending Sunday afternoon meetings,
clothes weren’t important. Fashion was for the madrichim started asking me if I was going
BBYO. But turn up in C & A jeans for Habo and to WA. Who knew? I may have been. I
there’d inevitably be someone sniggering behind eventually found out that WA stood for winter
your back. (Usually me, I’m ashamed to say.) activities – winter camp. These camps were held
The hard core Habonimniks wore the uniform. in boarding schools and held over the New Year.
In fairness it was available for us all, but I only They were fab. In fact they were better than fab,
progressed to the sweatshirt, or slopshirt as it they reached the highest accolade –
was called then. I really fancied one of those “aceoberream”. Having the most protective
blue shirts with the lace-up necks, but I was only parents of any of my friends and in fact the
ten and it just would’ve been delusions of whole world, I never thought that I’d be allowed
grandeur. to go. However, the Leeds madrichim visited my
The meetings were great – well-planned parents and assured them that it would be 100%
activities and lots of fun. We’d learn songs from kosher – food AND activities. I could go. As
ridiculously long rolls of paper that the tallest long as I called home every day and reversed the
Madrich would Blu-Tac onto the wall. charges, I could go.
20
