Page 19 - Kol Bogrei Habonim - October 19

David’s friends and colleagues were roped in to help in alfresco cooking, and the countless attempts to light a
their own specialities. David’s close friend, Gerry
Kochane was a good all-rounder and maintained
contact with the local Habonim groups. Ralph
Degroot gave a course on Social Economics, and I can
only remember the Law of Diminishing Returns.
David Best, who later became a much sought after
architect in Israel, was in charge of the handicrafts
class, alas not my forte and in spite of Trojan efforts, I
remained a hopeless case.
We were truly blessed when Chaim Rabin – a visiting
scholar from Oxford University – gave a series of
lectures on Israel. He was so erudite and yet so
modest, and we listened spellbound to his brilliant
talks delivered flawlessly without any notes!
David was also a gifted teacher and we fully
appreciated the way he skilfully guided us through the
hoops and hurdles of Hebrew grammar. He gave us
clear explanations of the vagaries of passive verbs –
never an easy subject in any language – and
particularly difficult in Hebrew. Who could forget the
time when he announced with a smile: “And now for
all the exceptions to the rule!” It was his patience and
his encouragement, combined with his wit and
unquenchable sense of humour that saved us.
Dr Sandler, a well-known expert on sex education,
gave us a revelatory illustrated talk on sex education.
The Habonim bush telegraph system must have gone
into overdrive when our seminar room was packed
with ‘outsiders’ equally keen to learn the ‘facts of
life!’ Our attention was not so much riveted on the
speaker, but on the poster-sized graphic diagrams,
which Dr Sandler had pinned up on the wall. It left us
mind bogglingly speechless!
But it wasn’t all noses to the grindstone – far from it.
On one special occasion, we were invited to a musical
evening hosted by the hospitable Bernstein family.
Mrs Bernstein, a fine pianist and a graduate of the
Royal Academy of Music, entertained us with a
splendid and varied piano recital and afterwards
accepted a number of our musical requests with great
aplomb. We were then treated to a delicious
homemade buffet supper, greatly appreciated by a
band of hungry students.
An important part of our part of our training was
weekend camping in the beautiful Derbyshire hills.
There was no shortage of rain in that region and we
developed a whole raft of new skills: dealing with
sagging guy ropes, leaking tents, and more
importantly, keeping our ground sheets dry. We took
it in turns to prepare our meals where the delights of
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fire, often resulted in burnt porridge!
In the meantime, I couldn’t shelve a nagging feeling
about my boyfriend, Sam. His regular newsy letters
from Israel had become fewer and further between. I
think I must have suspected the worst and wasn’t
completely surprised when he wrote to say that he’d
got a new girlfriend. I was jilted; a new and
unpleasant experience. I confessed all to my lovely
Grandma when I went home one weekend. Without a
moment’s hesitation she announced “It’s beshert” she
said. Beshert is a Yiddish word that means fated, or
meant to happen; not at all comforting to hear. I was
indignant at the time. Sam was a nice good-looking
Jewish boy and I happened to mention that Sam’s
family were Litvaks – from Lithuania (Latvia).
Grandma didn’t take well to this information because,
completely unknown to me, Polish Jews hated the
Litvaks, so in her view it was ‘good riddance’ to Sam.
I don’t think my ‘broken hearted’ condition lasted very
long – to be honest, it had little chance because, like all
the other girls on the course, we were in thrall to
David!
At 28 years of age, David was regarded as possibly the
oldest bachelor in Habonim. Needless to say, we girls
were all smitten and enjoyed endless discussions about
his future partner. We decided, altruistically, that she
would be a tall, dark, beautiful girl with a fine
academic mind to match his own. (How wrong we
were!) It is hard to pinpoint the time when David and
I developed an ‘understanding’ – a platonic one of
course. Living under the same roof was a good
beginning, since we were already on friendly terms
with each other and with everyone else. It may have
started innocently enough when I volunteered to sew
on a shirt button for him. My sewing skills were, and
remain, pretty basic but David was most grateful.
Then we joined a group, rowing on the lake at the