As I take the long way home down South America´s “gringo trail”, I occasionally
meet people coming the other way. One such was Snir[1], a little podgy from her
years of bad eating in the army, but still exuding a certain Ashkenazi charm. And
so we sat on the couch together and compared notes on our opposing journeys,
aliyah and yeridah. I have already said enough about my own reasons for wanting
to go to Israel, and Snir´s reasons were also predictable enough; Ashkenazi loathing
of Mizrachit culture and the arsim and frechot that go along with it...a culture that
Snir found doubly loathsome when compared with the bright lights of New York
and L.A., those magical cities which Britney Spears - Snir´s idol - calls home.
“Do you like Britney?” she asked.
“Of course!” I lied, “I just love the foul-mouthed slut”
“What means famath deslad?”
“It means good person”
“She is!” Snir enthused, “I use her songs to learn English. It is very hard!
I don´t understand all words of them!”
As it happens, I use the same technique, but with me the language is Hebrew,
and the singers are Zohar Argov and Eyal Golan. I was about to tell this to Snir, but remembering her scathing comments on the subject of Mizrachit, I decided against.
“I listen so much times to Britney that I know on my heart the words” she continued.
“Off by heart, eh?” I enthused, not knowing what would come next.
“Do you want me to sing a song of Britney?”
“Erm...why not!” I tried to remember the last time someone had made such an
offer and could not. Smiling shyly, Snir began to warble the well-rehearsed words,
and like the consumate performer that she was, not once took her eyes from her audience.
“Ooh, ooh baby
Touch me and I come alive
I can feel you on my lips
I can feel you deep inside
Ooh, ooh baby
You're fillin me up
You're fillin me up...”
I attempted nodding my head along with the tune, but stopped as suddenly as I had began.
If only she stopped looking directly at me, it wouldn´t be so...
“The way you smile,
the way you taste
You know I have an appetite for sexy things
All you do is look at me, it's a disgrace
What's running through my mind is you,
Up in my face
Ooh, ooh baby,
You´re fillin me up
You´re fillin me up”
I furtively wiped the drool from the side of my mouth.
“Would you like me to sing more one?” she asked sweetly.
“Erm! Sure!” I told her. “Just let me jump in the shower quickly! Be right back!”
[1] All of my attempts to explain what her name meant met with ignoble faliure.