Sunday, October 29, 2006

Romanian arguments



There is no fall in Tel Aviv. There is no true winter. There IS a cold, wet season, and it has just started.

When the leaves fell in Tulsa and the rain came, the smell of the season would dance around your nostrils. The air would become more crisp and feel a tad cleaner. The rain came to Tel Aviv- all weekend long- the smell of watered down feces and wet cat danced through the streets, a bit ghoulish and bothersome during wet nights and alleyways with no lights. The streets, however, ARE cleaner and so are the cars and those fruity, flowers that dropped from the trees and made you slip on the concrete are also washed away. Tel Aviv doesn't have proper drainage, so you're feet are always wet and your ceilings soak through.

Our ceiling soaked through that is. The dead woman does not want to be forgotten. Whereas at one time I felt a bit saddened about the concept of a lonely soul with no one to miss her, my sadness has turned to disgust at the fact that the yellowish water dripping from the ceiling was not from polluted rain. It was from a polluted individual who left hoards of rubbish on her terrace. Her 20+ cats were leaving their droppings outside and when the rain came, the rubbish held the rain water on the roof-with no where to go, except to mix with the cat poo left behind, and soak into my roomates bedroom. Nasty Nasty woman.

Shabbat was relaxing, the rain was falling so hard, there was no where to go other than to bed. It was one of my first Shabbats I've spent at home without guests. I am learning to be able to keep it by myself. Which is quite lonely, and the neverending rain didn't help, but I emerged well rested with copious amounts of energy and thoughts of social darwinism (from the book I was swimming in).

More often than once, I found myself sitting on the kitchen counter, with the window open analyzing the melodies of fighting I heard next door. A romanian couple reside across the hall from us and they speak to one another in screaming and yelling. At first, I was convinced that the husband, who is a diplomat, was a wife beater. After many sessions on the sink on Saturday, I have changed my views. His wife is a madwoman.

Just as I hit a pleasant meditative state during my second nap that day, her erratic screams hit the record high decibals. I was sure she was being beaten and ran to sit on the sink.

In my head, I was playing out the scenario: The diplomat had a humble wife and two young children back in Romania, although his wife was humble and beautiful- she wasn't enough to quench his insatiable appetite of political scandal and lovemaking. After all, she was raising her two children with one on the way and her diplomat husband was always on top secret missions. One of his last missions he was paired up with a beautiful Zoologist, they were trying to trace a group of poachers in Africa who were selling the local zoo sick animals and causing random plagues in small, rural towns in northern Romania. That is where their affair first begun- because his loneliness for his humble and beautiful wife who was rearing their young children.

With time, he became addicted to the zoologists seductive ways, for she was also a very beautiful and fiercely intelligent women. His hunger for her milky skin drove him to want her day and night/ night and day.But even with his thirst for her, he would not leave his wife, for he loved her in a way that was beyond the flesh- his very own soul grew with hers. He knew he was a wrong man, but he is only human, no?

So evil, intelligent, seductive, milky-skinned Zoologist informs humble, beautiful wife that she is the one porking her soulmate and beautiful wife is soulfully defeated. She locks Diplomat husband out of the house, out of the bank account, out of her and the kids lives. Diplomat is a torn and beaten man and knows what he has done will never be forgiven. So he stays with seductive zoologist and takes the next case which is to spy on the AM/PM grocery stores in the center of Tel Aviv (the romanian officials believe the Russian mafia is over pricing the kosher cheese and sending the funds to an arms group in russia who, in turn AND unbeknownst to them, sends the profits to Iran.)

And that brings it back to the reason why I am listening to their arguments: zoologist seductress has no work visa and spends her days walking their bulldog. She hates him and their life together. "this is no way to treat me! our lovemaking skills are nothing anymore!!" she yells at him. "You have become a shadow on the wall@##$". Then she goes on screaming like a banshee about how she deserves more and he's scum and he doesn't say anything anymore and just lets her scream and slap him because yes, he is indeed scum. and the only woman that ever loved him, that would ever give him everything he ever wanted in payments of love and warm kisses has locked him out of her life.

And they do this about 3x over Shabbat. I almost had the nerve to knock on the door and tell them they are upsetting my Shabbat experience. I don't recall my parents ever yelling at one another. At the kids, hell yeah- but at each other? never. if you can't communicate, shouldn't you learn to? Some of us are taking naps in the cold weather alone and these people can't appreciate they have one another for even a few hours. Spoiled monkeys....

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