Gisela’s Second Trip to Palestine (1932-1933)
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Grand Hotel Continental,
Munich
My dears,I can't help but write to you, we arrived here a second ago, and I don't think I could make better use of my time.
I am beginning to realize that the journey is becoming real, and I am deeply grateful to you for letting me go. Whether it was right or wrong that I did it so easily, I don't want to think about that now, but only to be completely open to experience everything intensely and perhaps return home spiritually richer and more open. I have it so outrageously good and am so deeply grateful to you for everything.
Uncle Jun is already in the house, but still sleeping, as is Aunt Frieda. The night with Anse was quite peaceful and quiet. She and Aunt Frieda together are a theater to behold. I read a very charming horse story by Tolstoy this morning, which Irma had smuggled to me, and otherwise looked out the windows. It was a gorgeous sunny morning. The southern German countryside with its small villages, which get their face through the church, has enchanted me again. Roederus are right, it is another country, another world. I have talked only 20 min with Aunt Frieda, she is quite tired from Hamburg (and USA) and has a need to be silent.
By the way, here it shines, the roads are muddy, while outside there is probably 2 cm of snow.
Uncle Jun has just arrived, not very hopeful about Aunt Noni, so far unchanged. I shall now probably go get some water in the form of a small discovery trip probably to our beloved old obelisk.
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My dears,
I hope to finish a few lines to you before the steamer departs, which is very nice, though not nearly as luxurious as the Anserna.
Venice has fascinated me again completely with its magic, and if I had not successfully repeated to myself a couple of times that I must behave like a lady, I would have been hopping all the time. Only here, too, it is downright freezing cold and gray, much colder than in Hamburg.
My Venetian dad was delightful, finally right in for tonight, only saw him for 10 minutes unfortunately. The poor man was terribly ill, stomach bleeding, lived only on milk for 3 weeks and looks pale as a bed sheet, skin and bones. He spoke better German as he did then, and imagine, he is also a Jew and even a Zionist.
I was desperately looking for shoes, followed by our sergeant, but here too everything was just too big, so that I could only allow Aunt Frieda buy me a photo for 8 pfennigs. Most of the stores were considerately closed for lunch, otherwise I would have been disgraced more than once. We had only 2 hours in all, which flew by much too fast with lunch. But we traditionally fed the pigeons, which sat down so brazenly on my head that my night cap (as Aunt Frieda calls my turban) disintegrated in graceful downfall. The church with its mosaics, wonderfully beautiful.
Passengers and trip flirts not yet sighted.
In Munich I only went to the "brown house,” which is located between our beloved Obelisk and the State Gallery. It is quite different as one imagines it. A yellow (by no means brown) old patrician house, which one recognizes only by two iron standards with swastika and eagle and an iron shield over the door, on which quite modestly, "Germany awake" is engraved. The hotel is yawning empty, the streets pure ice, the whole city makes an impression of a dead zone. We had a very lazy afternoon and evening, bathed, slept and ate in our night robes. (Mother, for once you were right, I needed my night robe!). For 2 hours, I was an ear for aunt Frieda, because this is how one can actually describe our conversations. I soon know all the dresses of your children and grandchildren and hundreds of insignificant stories, but I admire how you can tell even such a meaningless thing with a lot of charm and temperament. However, she has a great need for rest and is quite exhausted, and she is beginning to feel that I am more than happy to stop talking.
Ah, I have it so good and am aware of it every hour.
We will not meet Edward in Damascus, but on the 16th in Tiberias.
I think of you a lot
and kiss you affectionately,
Your child
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My dear family,
We are sitting here on the train from Cairo to Jerusalem. The last 2 days have been in the oriental way moving and beautiful. The see sights up to the end endlessly beautiful. I was met by an agent of N.Y.Times for the Near East, to whom I was recommended by Oatzes and Aunt Frieda by Magnes, with extra launch. Excitingly beautiful mess, our arrival in sunset and magical moonlight immediately after. Ride to Cairo heavenly fun. I sat with Sir Denison Ross, Head of the Oriental School in London, for whom I tipped his valet here in Cairo this morning. Museum lunch with the NY Times man. Mosseri came because he had read about our arrival in the newspaper. And sends his love.
Very soon, much more,
Your blessed Gisi
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Jerusalem
(We even tried to buy shoes in Cairo, where they are only made to measure).
My dears,The first afternoon in Jerusalem, and I am bursting with new impressions to share with you. Aunt Frieda is sitting in the living room with Magneses, recounting all the bereavements of the past year in great detail. I can ignore that.
The hotel is, I think, the most beautiful I have ever seen. Of enormous dimensions, bright, balconies with gorgeous view and a beautiful garden, in which there are unimagined quantities of Bougainvillea and roses in bloom. The drive this morning through the “promised land” was excitingly beautiful. Since we were less than 12 passengers in sleeping cars (only then the sleeping car stays until Jerusalem), we had to change trains in Lidda very early on. As a result, we saw the sun rise, with improbable caravans like silhouettes on the horizon, and before our eyes, right and left, groves of orange-laden trees. The harvest this year is particularly good. At the same stations as then, Arab children with bouquets of flowers.
Then up through the desert of the mountainous sea of stones. It is so incredible to see all this again. I have absorbed everything so intensely that it seems to me like a reunion with very familiar things that have never ceased to live before my inner eye. It is like a wonderful confirmation and a renewed awareness of what had become an unconscious essential inner part.
At the railroad Hadassah Samuel and her husband, Magnes and wife and Hexter welcomed us. After a short descent at the hotel we drove, as in those days, immediately with Hirschkowitz, our old chauffeur, to the university. The view from the natural theater as timelessly infinite and gripping as it once was. Unfortunately, the stage is only now covered with mariner stones, and right and left are 2 very wide towers. Columns are still being built in the curve of the stage. Since the building slopes sharply down to the hillside, a hall is built under the stage, for concerts and performances in winter, of which one notices almost nothing from the stage. I found it incomparably more beautiful at that time and think it a sin to destroy or distract the view from revealing itself. A botanical garden is now being built around the university, which, like the Warburg Forest, will become the botanical experimental station of the university (Chaim’s Faculty). The trees of the Warburg Forest, which extends to the left of the Natural Theater all around the University buildings, are also part of the Experimental Station. They are different varieties, which are watered, grown in different soil and observed. A new building, the Physikum on the left behind the nature theater is since then […] Unfortunately, it is green cement and not the beautiful stone, because of the earthquake danger as preferred for safety, since it has a metal framework.
Otherwise I was not outside at all today, Aunt Frieda had her so called “jour,” while I slept thoroughly, unpacked and bathed. The hotel is very empty at the moment (Bentwiches live here), but will be full to the last bed for Christmas. They have even had to cancel 50 reservations.
What fascinates me so much about this trip are the people with whom one comes into contact by chance, and what kind of life stories one sees passing by in a few days from all sides. Some examples:
On the way from Cairo to Kantara we had a head-waiter who immediately struck me as a “gentleman.” I got into conversation with him. He is Austrian from Graz, was in the officer school, after the revolution he became a bank clerk and landed here after the bank went bankrupt and his parents lost their money. He is quite happy, the work is not hard, he has 2 Arabs among him, earns quite well, has survived, speaks all languages, has kept his Viennese-German and is going back this year, for the first time after 6 years. His parents have already thought of the menu that will be served for his arrival!
Who will meet me at the train station in Alexandria? The cook man who accompanied us 2.5 years ago from Alexandria to Jerusalem and whom Anita and I called “our hero.” He asked about everyone, including Lilly, and pulled out of his wallet the photo of all of us on camels. I was happily surprised to find that there was still a copy and I almost asked if I can have it, but did not ask, for the reason had I was so honored that we were among the select few he carried with him.
Sir Denison Ross, whom Aunt Frieda met on the steamer, is an Orientalist and Head of the London School of Oriental Studies. He lectures in Cairo and at the end of the month at the local university. He speaks almost every language there is. His favorite poet is Heine; he knows some of his poetry by heart. He is unusually fat and short and has a bird's head. We meet incessantly, both of us being unable to find our way around the steamer even after 3 days. He is tremendously funny, just strikingly vain. In the Pullman Car from Alexandria to Cairo, where I sat opposite him, he complained all the time that Pirandello, with whom he had sat at the captain's table, had not taken the trouble to take an interest in him. This was the first time that he had not succeeded. He says things jokingly and yet a good part of him is bitterly serious. For example, he asks me with a deadpan face: “What is the crudest thing? “If you ride your bike with spurs on!” Stupidly, I asked him if I could type his lecture for him, which he promptly and naturally accepted, costing me almost the entire morning in Cairo.
Joseph Levy, who knew, through Magnes and George Oakes of our coming, picked us up in Alexandria by special boat, while the ship stopped short outside the harbor for the quarantine test. During the short trip, the sun was just setting in the fantastic, ever-changing colors. When the “Gange” docked, darkness had already fallen, magically illuminated by the full moon. Not only did we have this special boat, but the captain of the customs office, as well as another officer and passport official, and Levy himself paved the way for us. Levy is a fantastically smart, suave, but not entirely likeable man of no more than 29 years. Born in Palestine of American parents, he speaks English, French, German, Hebrew, Arabic, Italian and Turkish PERFECTLY and is the New York Times representative for the Near East. He came all the way from Cairo to pick us up, and was running his legs off out of his way. Yesterday we had breakfast with him in Cairo. He has a much older looking, not at all pretty, boring American wife, but she must be super smart since she was the youngest lawyer in America. There we met Pasha, so and so, a high Egyptian government official. A smart, charming person. A general steward and the American envoy and wife. The diplomatic life is ridiculous after all. This American was invited by the English High Commissioner (or whatever he is called in Egypt) already 2 times for lunch, but had to cancel because of other engagements. Yesterday he was asked again at 2 o'clock to the gulf, and did not dare, as (it was nevertheless true) he could not, since it could be regarded as diplomatic action. As a result, he had to split immediately after dinner. Grotesque, huh? I sat next to a Palestinian who lives in Tel Aviv and works in Jaffa as a government official. My Hebrew is wrong and slow, but if you speak slowly, and just give me time to think, an understanding comes right out.
Yesterday afternoon Messereh appeared, who had read about Aunt Frieda's and my stay in the newspaper, where it was written in bold. I was just at the hairdresser's, but he kept pressing Aunt Frieda on - he still had to see me, his nephew would be coming too. It was not only (as I suspected) love for Lola, of which he spoke insistently, but real shadowy intentions, which were only explained by aunt Frieda, much later. The nephew, whom I really saw just for a second, and whom Lola should also know, is small like in the Middle Ages, fat and is constantly twisting snakes. So the ideal husband and longed-for son-in-law. He will probably also be here on business for the next 14 days.
In contrast, I really deeply fell in love last night at Suez Canal. Levy had recommended us in Kantara to the Chief Commander of the Police, so again we were “saluted” by customs. My friend (namely the Chief Commander) is an abnormally handsome Egyptian with fez, as it should be, with whom I was walking for 2.5 hours (Aunt Frieda had become too exhausting to chapronieren) until the train left on the platform, and he told me the whole story of his life to the smallest detail. I had to promise him to let him know when we will return, and you may see him one day in Hamburg, as he wants to spend his vacations in France and Germany. He is a Muslim, sympathetic to the Zionists, went to school in Cairo and received military training, was in Palestine during the war, then briefly in London, and now for six years in Cantara, where the big event of the day is the two trains from Cairo to Palestine and back. It must be a ridiculously monotonous life.
The young Samuels are delightful, as are, of course, Magnes and his wife, who I think were really pleased with our coming. We have also seen Mrs. Kish, and Mr. comes in the next few days.
After, I immediately inquired at the university. He told me that he just had a letter from you, father, and wants to introduce me to his little kingdom and its problems in the next few days.
Oh, there would be so much more to tell, but it is almost 12 o'clock and you have had enough.
Very soon much news from your blessed child. Peeper will arrive tomorrow by plane in Tiberias. We will not pick him up, it is a 4 hour drive and the time of arrival is too uncertain. Will you send the letter to Lola and Anchen, I was too lazy to type.
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King David Hotel
Jerusalem
My dears,
Yesterday evening your first letter arrived. Heartfelt thanks. You are angels and God knows how I come to have such parents!
Today we are already 6 days in Jerusalem. Even though we have done almost nothing yet, since Peeper is still a bit mesmerized by Persia, I have already experienced a lot that I would like to share with you.
I will try to tell it once, not chronologically, but ordered factually, point by point.
Dead sea, potassium works.
For the extraction of potassium only natural means are used: 1) the water of the Dead Sea with its potassium content of 1-2%, 2) the sun for evaporation and concentration of potassium, and 3) the Jordan water for purification. The sun increases the potassium content in the open pools to 35%, from where it is washed with Jordan water for purification and separation from the remaining salts, such as magnesium and bromide. After this process, the potassium content has increased to 55%. In the last rinsing, which is now done under heat (oil heating), the potassium content is increased to 95%.
They have 270 Jewish workers and 150 Arabs, the former get 30 piasters per day, the latter - 15. They have a common canteen and all live in the same very modern simple barracks. Only unmarried workers are employed.
Exports are already made to the whole world, which is managed by agents in London. Nowhere in the world is potash produced as cheaply as here. The only thing that is still relatively expensive is transportation, which is done by trucks. There are plans for an aerial tramway to Jerusalem. The profit has far exceeded what was expected. An important by-product is bromide, which is used for photographic plates and medical purposes.
Cooperation with the German Syndicate has not yet been established because it is not advantageous for the German Syndicate, but they are on very friendly terms theoretically and believe that practical cooperation may be possible later. Next to the oranges, this Dead Sea plant, which is to be considerably expanded, and which is constantly being improved by simplifications that the local engineers are working out together every evening, is the greatest source of income and hope for the country.
Hitjashvuth haelef (thousand-family settlement).
The largest part of this enterprise, consisting of many small settlements, is located in Rechovot. From the available funds it is estimated that 600 families can be settled. We saw the creation of about 200, almost all of which are still under construction. Workers who work in pardes (orange plantations) are given means and material to build a small house, as well as 7 dunams of land and orange trees to settle. Partly they build the houses themselves under guidance, partly they are built, it is the same with the planting of the orange orchard. The houses are almost strikingly small, we only saw the floor plans, the overall outline of which is no bigger than one of our rooms. Part of the money will be used to help the colonies to buy more land and trees.
Experimental station at Rechovot.
This is the new institute that Chaim will run together with the agricultural department of the university. The possibilities and importance of this institute are really unlimited. Study of the soil, diseases of fruit trees and their control, insect pests, experiments with cows, their best feeding and the effects of the feeding on the milk. Since only artificial feeding is not enough, the aim is to increase the number of cows. For this purpose, experiments are carried out to find out the most concentrated fodder that can be grown in different areas, and which at the same time fertilizes the soil. The second question is the utilization of the milk, which will exceed the demand of the country and which, of course, cannot be exported as milk. So, it is necessary to make experiments on caesation and condensation of the milk. This is only one of hundreds of problems. To the station belong trial farms, that is, small farms, where the results of the trial fields and experiments are tried out practically and economically, in order to be able to give precise instructions to the Chaluzim (pioneers). Just as of now, already a significant department of the station, “the extension department,” is devoted to the inquiries coming from all over the country, about agricultural problems.
The division between the University and Rechovot is, on the one hand, that the first basic years are given with an introduction to the different areas with the necessary theoretical knowledge in Jerusalem, while Rechovot, already more practical, that is, follows the requirements and respective problems of agriculture, on the other hand, but it is also a merely geological area division, because of the diversity of the soil. For example, the Warburg forest, which is planted in the infertile, rough soil around the university, serves the problem of reforestation of the areas deforested during the reign of the Turks.
Givat Brenner
This is a kwuzah composed mostly of German Jews. It is a type of colony that we did not get to see on our last trip because it is by no means a showpiece in what was practically achieved. This is not to say that they have not done fabulous things with the means at their disposal. It is a colony that has received only the land from Keren Kayemet and not a penny of support. It is sustained solely by the meager earnings that the pioneers get from working in other gardens and the now gradually growing yield of orange trees, which I believe will bear first this year. Some of the people have been living in tents for 5 years, some in barracks where 9 people sleep in one small room. They all have the same number of clothes, the newcomers have their superfluous clothes taken from them. Everything is kept in the common wardrobe, where everyone has a shelf. To this colony belong at the moment 180 pioneers, 30 children. They have a large modern house in which the children live, and they are cooked for separately. In this Kwuzah, many (relatively) are unmarried. Usually a kwuzah, that is, some families, closes up after a certain time - and does not accept newcomers, so they do not get on the green branch for 5 years, but just with this austerity and this always renewed enthusiasm and fresh forces, they are doing superhuman things.
Hexter took us to Rechovot for a meeting that was the funniest thing I have ever experienced. There were about 10 men (the whole, I think, Palestine economical Corporation) discussing the individual cases with the pros and cons of support. Of these 10, one did not know Hebrew, one did not know English, which excluded these two languages. Remaining was German, but two could only speak Yiddish. I understood them when English was spoken, even Hebrew, but not a word when they spoke German! No sentence was finished in the language in which it was started! It is fascinating how they mix not only different nationalities here, but also the different classes.From Friesland, a director of the Palestine Mortgage Bank, the elder son of one the oldest pioneers who has a huge pardes and is quite rich, then Hexter and other characters.
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My typed letter has not been finished and remained sitting there, and astonished, I am looking at a mountain which I would like to tell you, and if I ever manage it, then only with a pen. Unfortunately, I followed Maudi’s sweet advice not to write too much, but I (am) bitterly sorry, because so much piles up that one does not know where to start.First I want to tell you about the travel plans, which have been set in the meantime. On January 4, we will leave here and travel with the Hesperia to Naples. From Naples to Florence, where we will stay for about 3 days or a week, and perhaps meet Vera and Chaim. From there to Paris on 10 days, from where I will go home, while Aunt Frieda and Peeper will go over on January 25 with the Europa (or Bremen) from […]. My enthusiasm about Paris is unfortunately not as great as it should be for 3 reasons:
1) I’ve never been to Paris and don't want to blur my impression of Palestine by making such a big new impression. 2) Do you go to France as a German nowadays? 3) Paris without Maudi showing it to me - is not Paris.
On the other hand, I will not have the chance to see it again in the foreseeable future. I told Peeper this morning in all honesty what I just wrote to you, and he says that Aunt Frieda is so looking forward to to be showing me Paris and spoiling me that she would be upset if I told her I'd rather not. What do you think?
Peeper tells very interesting stories from Russia and Persia. He was especially fascinated by Russia. Russia and Palestine are really the only countries where something powerful new is being born and grows, and a common ideal awakens and drives unimagined forces.
All 3 of us are tremendously independent, everyone does what he wants and that is just wonderful. To Rechovot and Brenner Peeper and I met Hexter alone, while Auntie was invited. Now Auntie is with Edwin and Hadassah Samuel eating leftovers from dinner party last night, and Peeper is with Glücks with a very lovely young American couple who live in our School of Archeology where the husband is a teacher.
I am particularly fond of Edwin Samuel, Herbert's son, who is currently Vice-Governor of the Jerusalem District (but will probably become Governor of Haifa or Jaffa District). He knows an enormous amount about the country and its people, as well as history and art, and it is a pleasure to go see things with him. Unfortunately, they are a bit tense with Magnes and his wife, who are not very happy that we are with them so much. Last night they gave a little party in the delightful little modern house of Senator - in whose house they are staying for 2 months. I had a very good chat with Arloseroff. Gluecks were also there, Neunoch and wife (he is also in Government-service), we met him back then at Sachers.
In the afternoon I went to tea at Bonne's, whose house is almost next door to Senator’s in Rehavia. Rehavia is a newly built, very lookie villa neighborhood, just outside Jerusalem. You can't imagine how much has been built in the time since we were here.
Across the street from our hotel is a huge palazzo of the YMCA (Young Men Christian Association). The houses are all (by that I mean the small ones) in modern German settlement style, which looks really good in this gorgeous stone. Bonne's house, like most, is single story (just parter) very small and cold. By the way, the weather is just like in Switzerland. Fresh cold air and wonderful warm sun, in the shade, however, very cold and at times very windy, which is supposed to be a foretaste of rain, which, however, has not yet arrived. He (Bonne) is extremely satisfied with the development of the science archive and he already stands out with his orientation material.
Benturch was astonished to find here material about the Muslim Congress, which he could not get in London.
Bernee got a trip to Iraq from the German scientific foundation, which he will start next week. (Pardon my “Aunt Malchen” style, but it is so much easier).
Yesterday morning Magnes gave Peeper and me a thorough tour of the university. This university cannot really be compared to any other continental one, because its raison d'être is much less the teaching of students and much more the “service to the country,” its problems and its special possibilities, and it is from this point of view and for this purpose that the students want to learn.
Therefore, it is one-sided, but in the relatively short time has already world-wide reputation in its fields of research. Tomorrow is a ceremonial degree conferral. Magnes has set up a lovely room in the small vault on the roof of the library with a divine view on all sides to celebrate their silver wedding anniversary next year.
Yesterday afternoon Peeper and Nebi and I were in Bethlehem (Nebi is Edwin Samuel, it means Prophet in Arabic, so they call him that because of his last name), Aunt Frieda had Hadassah ladies.
Monday, as I said, we were in Rechovot with Hexter. The only thing I haven't told you about that day is our lunch at Kwuza Schuller, a lovely little colony, mostly Austrians, supported by the money of “thousand families” through land purchases and trees. The difference with Givat Brenner, which is very close, was astonishing.
Sunday morning we went to Museum, directed by Meyer (?), a professor of the University, the Museum soon moves to a new building, sponsored by Rockefeller. Then with Bentwiches and Samuels to the Dead Sea, which I wrote to you about already.
In the evening Peeps and Aunt Frieda at Kisch, I was nursing a cold which has since passed. Saturday we drove to the Mount of Olives (we came down on Shabbat) and to the Garden of Gethsemane. Incredibly peacefully beautiful. I wished I knew my Bible better. In the evening there was a concert and the ball, which I found not so uplifting. The type of Jew you can find anywhere in the world.
I don't like the tea music in the hall at all when you get home. The comfort of the hotel is fabulous, but somehow it goes against the grain.
Friday evening we went to Magnes. I have already written to you about that. This is a very packed newsreel.
This morning we went with Nebi to the Omar Mosque. The Solomon's stables below the square are fantastic, you have no idea of their dimensions… In Solomon's time, by the way, they were not stables at all, but simply ... (cut) to the place of the temple, and only the crusaders used them as such. Underneath this temple square are still two old gates of Jerusalem, as an ordinary mortal one cannot get into these cellars at all, where one discovers the oldest columns and(?), but Nebi has access to everything.
In the meantime Peep and Glueck are sitting in my room, Peep shows him his Persian photos, since my room is the only warm one, the others are all so exposed to the wind that the heating is of no use.
I did not write to Anchen for her birthday, she should forgive me. I am still thinking of her. I hope to hear from you again soon and love you dearly!
Your child
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My dears,
Before we start on our trip to the colonies, early the day after tomorrow, you should have a few lines. We will travel with Mr. and Mrs. Magnes Sunday 25 December along the coast through the new colonies northward to Haifa, be there Monday and return Tuesday through Emek. That means Aunt Frieda is going back with them, Peep and I will stay in Giwa, a Kwuzah, until Thursday, which I am terribly looking forward to!
The riots and fights of 1929 are by no means forgotten, but much worse than the short time of the fights seems to have been the depression of the aftermath, which turned into a paralysis probably for half a year. They were never afraid, and they are not today. On the contrary, each one of them proved with determined resistance: “Now straight ahead!” And all the new houses in Jerusalem were built in this spirit immediately after the riots. A countrywoman said only: “We wanted to show our people at home that we belong here now more than ever.” A great many precautions were taken. In the colonies themselves, which for the time being have only one house, the house for kids, and the rest live in barracks, the roof of this house has a balcony walls is an entrenchment, from which in case of need one can hide and lock oneself in. Every colony, every barrack are guarded at night. We know that tension is always there and that it can explode, but we also know that we are putting everything and our lives for the land.
Yesterday was the 2nd graduation ceremony since the university was founded. It was a very nice, simple short ceremony.
Last night we went to the High Commissioner. The new house, which is outside Jerusalem, is incredibly beautiful and large in dimensions. I had Arloseroff at the table, who has taken over Kisch's post and whom I find particularly clever and nice. One was somewhat skeptical about how this man elected from the labor movement would do as a representative and is now joyfully delighted. He also has a pretty, cheerful wife and in my opinion is much better than Kisch. He is the new type of aristocratic Jew, who in no way loses touch with his labor movement. He is good friends with the High Commissioner's Aide den Camp, etc. He comes, strangely enough, from East Prussia, where he grew up almost exclusively among Aryan aristocrats. He became a Zionist only during the war. He is only 34, but looks 50. On my other side sat Sokolow, he may be very smart, but so unimpressive, speaks English so horribly, quite miserable creature he is, even if that is natural at his old age.
The High Commissioner is highly sympathetic and enormously popular, he spoke only a few words to me across the table. It is amazing how the traditionalists keep themselves in this English Empire. The toast to the King and the chronic snatching of the person you are talking to to give everyone a chance to talk to High Commissioner. I had a good chat with Sokolov's son-in-law, who works at the Potash Works.
Lionel’s sister only came yesterday morning. I plainly ignore this “sister-in-law”! Then we went to the Pardes Felix Warburg, which is really incredibly beautiful. The only investment that has brought something in the last year and even 6000 British pounds. Not too bad!
We were a large picnic party consisting of Samuels, Magnes and wife and son David (less adorable), Glücks and Hexters.
The manager of the garden is a splendid old man with long hair who, unpaid, has turned a rather poor Arab plantation into a real paradise (that's what “Pardes” means). Our Jaffa oranges are embryos against the local ones! Aunt Frieda was really transfigured and suddenly decided, in her bliss, that we wanted to postpone our departure. We have now really […] on the nail and only leave on the 14th with Ansonia, about which I am of course so happy.
The invasion of the “250 Empress Of Britain tour” has arrived. Peep and I are going to Bethlehem tonight (it is December 24). The really big celebration of the Greek Orthodox is not for another 14 days, but it should be much more beautiful.
I have received both of Father's letters from Berlin. In the meantime you have received the report on the Potash story, and I will speak to Scholem at the end of the week.
My sense of duty goes so far that today on the holy Sabbath I walked the 1.5 hours to and from the university with Bonne', in order to once again absorb everything that needs to be reported.
He recently wrote you a somewhat depressed letter, which he showed me. In the meantime, the sky looks a little rosier. The Finance Minister of Palestine, who also uses the archive, is advocating a government subsidy for the production of a monthly magazine and the government would publish bank reports, etc. as well. This would be a big deal. At Mr. Antonis […] an Arab, representative of an American company is commissioned to report on “current development of economics and politics in the Near East.” In order to do that, he feels compelled to open an archive, and wanted to see how Bonne's archive was wound up. He was so impressed by the wealth of material that he was afraid of stirring up competition. Bonné is now trying to get him to do joint work, which would certainly suit the Americans and would mean a lot for the archive, because he has large funds at his disposal. The only thing that stands in the way is Arab nationalist sentiment: “We can do just as well without the Jews. “
The archive is built according to the Hamburger's system, which will tell you a lot, but was new to me. To get an idea of the activity, I read the inquiries of the last 3 days.
Dr. Simon inquires about capital investment. He sees a great danger in the large supply of short-term settlers and the lack of long-term ones for which there is a great need. Since the former is exploited to flirt with the latter. (Could one not transform this somehow from short and long, asks the Bangmiense […] the wise father?) More about it face to face.
What he wants from you is that you convince Magnes that the archive should be put under the wings of the university, which, I think, would mean at the same time that Bonné would become a faculty member. He claims that the couple of 100 pounds that the Archives would need in an emergency could easily be given from the University's budget of 40,000 pounds.
I must get ready for Bethlehem. Tomorrow I will think of our Annele.
Will you be so good as to send this, as also the previous letter to Lola with a return request.
Deeply yours, your blessed child
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My darlings,
Today it is only 2 weeks that I have been away from home and it seems like a year. -
Peeper and I just returned last night from Gewa - a Kwuzah - where we lived for 2.5 days. What an experience these 2 days have meant is hard to put down on paper in a short way. One is always overwhelmed by how many problems and fateful events this small country brings. It is almost confusing, because the more you see, the more problems there are for the sake of which you have to overturn the house of cards, which you had just artfully built around the last problem and its predecessors, and look for a new framework in which everything fits again.
I have by no means found a frame for everything so far. People are not better here than anywhere else. The only difference is that here everything is lived and experienced more intensely, and everything is so vibrant and alive that it is constantly and visibly shaped by the influence of each personality. Somehow one bangs one’s head against walls a lot less than in the muddled Germany or Europe.
Gewa was founded 11 years ago by 15 people who lived in tents for the first 4 years and went through incredible things. Today 60 adults and 30 children belong to Kwuzah. Most of them are married, but some are single. They only accept new members after a probationary year and do not want to expand because, in contrast to their neighboring Kwuzah En Chared, which has 470 members, they want to preserve the form of a large family in which the voice of each individual is important, while in the large Kwuzah clique-ism is already starting to happen.
The Emek, as you will remember, has no oranges because the soil is not suitable. They are starting with grapefruit, which promises great success. So the colony grows vegetables: potatoes, tomatoes, cauliflower, eggplants, etc. The good harvest for sale, the bad for their own needs. Also sesame and grain. A fairly large milk works and 1200 chickens. In the meantime they are so far that not only they have a very nice dining house, with dining room and kitchen, and an equally modern children's house (also again at the same time defense castle) - these 2 houses, which immediately stand out, are the hallmarks of every Kwuzah - 3 modern small dwelling houses, each with W.C. and handstone, as well as a shower house, stables and wooden barracks, but for the most part they have had their parents join them, some of whom only speak Yiddish and work here somewhat voluntarily to spend their twilight years.
They and the children get EXTRA good food, in my eyes quite unnecessarily extra good, because the ordinary food is already excellent, only you have to get used to (which is not difficult for me, but for Peeper is) to eat your fill of ONE course, of which you can have as much as you want. 50% of the “comrades” are vegetarians, in the past there were even more, and if there are 2 times a week fish or meat, the vegetarians get eggs. The way of life is as follows:
At 6 o'clock it is “Get up!” From 6:30 (2 bells) to 8 you can have breakfast. So the work usually starts at 7 o'clock, that means who has to go to the distant fields to plow, gets up at 4. At 11:45 lunch and rest until the bell rings at 1 o'clock. Those who are on distant fields take their food with them. At 5:30 it is the end. Shower, change clothes, eat at 6:30. All the children are there when the meal is served, even if they do not eat with adults, but until 7:30 is about the only time they can be together with their parents.
However, parents can always come and get them when they have time, and you often see a child standing with his father when the father is working. I have never seen anything as crazy adorable as these kids. Peeper was also completely enraptured and just couldn't get over the fact that they didn't look Jewish at all. We did some theater for them one evening, that is, Peeper did his elephant and fish and tricks with money and I was - incidentally - an interpreter. They are also so 100% happy, these children. I have not heard a single one cry in the 2.5 days. Their age range is between 2 weeks - 9 years. They have a vacancy for 2 teachers in place, no comrades this year yet, but next year. There is one someone’s only son of 15 year who inspired Peeper a lot. He also looks crazy lovely. Something like Peter Hylton's type, beautiful eyes, snub nose, stunted figure and real worked-through hands of a peasant. He is supposed to be a fabulous mathematician, reads a lot, speaks ONLY Hebrew. Peeper suddenly felt he would like to do something for this boy's education. But we suddenly realized that nothing can actually be given to this boy. Why show him a lot of wrongly lived life that might crush him under its wheels, or use up a lot of his strength to resist it? Why put him in an atmosphere where one studies for exams, not for science, not with enthusiasm? (As Jonathan Magnes now feels so strongly in California.)
His father belonged to the Gabima (Jiddisch Theater), now paints a lot and also wants to get an acting group together among the Chaluzim in Emek, his mother was burned to death 2 years ago by a gasoline explosion in Gewa. In the cemetery of Gewa lie 4 people. None died of natural death. 3 suicides. One woman from lovesickness. A girl 15 years old, beautiful, physically and mentally exceptionally mature, wrote poetry, had Buddhist ideas and feared she would become like all women. An old man, who came late to Gewa, with complexes that he could no longer be of use to the community as he wanted and would be a burden to them. He did not want to leave. At the same time, he was a particularly clever and fine man.
That was the last thing I expected to find in such a colony. But Jews, even as peasants, are complicated creatures.
The colony has types of all classes. There is, for example, a very charming American 20 years old from the south, who had been at the university in Florida, but on a vacation trip through Europe happened to include Palestine as well. After 2 weeks in the country he let his mother to return alone. She persuaded him, after he had been here for 2 years, to at least take his degree and come over for only one year. He went over, with the firm intention of doing it. After a few months in America, he was so disgusted that he just abandoned the university and is now back here. His parents, formerly filthy rich, have lost a lot and have bought a pardes here, on which they intend to move in the next few years. The boy is supposed to manage the orange grove, he does not want to “manage.” He wants the kwuzah. At the same time there is no enthusiasm in this boy, tremendous pessimism towards Palestine's development, indeed he sees the weaknesses in everything. He says so openly - “if I have to live at all, then here.” He is a very fine boy, who has been through everything and for whom no physical work is too hard, but whom life in the big world would crush. He plowed all the days we were there, so we saw him only in the evenings. Then he plays chess and is beautiful with the children, takes part in the evening discussion of tomorrow's work and then sinks into bed. He is something like Wolfgang.
Our roommate was quite different. You should know that Schmuel, Peeper and I slept in the same room. For them it seemed to be a natural development, not a word was said about it. I just had to […] inwardly, when I thought that Erich and I should not sleep together! So the good Schmuel came from Poland. Blond, very good looking, small, stocky, spoke very good German as he was educated in Vienna. He came to Palestine as a Zionist, that is, out of idealism, but in the meantime he has become very practically realistic. He wants immigration of Jews as many as possible. He does not believe in an active policy of understanding with the Arabs, and I believe that this is not possible with the type of Arabs with whom he comes into contact. You have probably heard about Nahalal incident. The Arabs threw a bomb through a window. Gradually only steam has developed, and when the father, coming home with his child, unwittingly examined the steam, the whole thing exploded, and both father and son have died after serious injures. Such a senseless meanness as the unfounded bomb can make one doubt. In the vegetable garden of Gewa they steal senselessly. The other day the shomer called the police and they caught 11 Arabs. What to do with them: beat them up. If the shomer sees an Arab at night, he immediately shoots into the air. Nothing can be achieved with debate. That usually chases him away, if he does not have weapons himself. In Gewa they are armed to the teeth - everyone has a revolver under his pillow, and one does not go unarmed to the neighboring village in the evening. This colony defended itself particularly well during the riots. Many comrades were in the Jewish Legion during the war. By itself, I think, each colony is supposed to have only 2 guns, but the police, who were also in Gewa the other day for a check-up, know very well that there are more. People used to put their dirty shoes in front of the door in Gewa. The result: the Arabs have stolen them all one night, with a trace one has followed their trail, found them in the next village, where they had “no idea” on the question, where the shoes came from.
But I wanted to tell about our Shmuel, to whom we were entrusted.
The first afternoon he showed us around everywhere and then took us to the neighboring colony to his girlfriends. That is to say only one fully deserves this name, she is the wife of an Embassy-clerk in Rechovot who lives in Tel Aviv. She had placed her son in Gewa, a delightful boy who speaks German and Hebrew equally well. She and the friend with whom she was staying on vacation are from Berlin.
Another is wife of the local veterinarian. Our Schmuel did not come to bed one night before 3 o'clock. 2 nights he was in the neighbor village with this girlfriend, one evening he accommodated her in Gewa, somewhere in Kinderhaus. He actually made no secret of this either, her stuff was even in our room the following morning, whether this trophy of his victory was meant to impress us, I don't know.
I plucked potatoes with him, cut off the cabbage, washed it, picked tomatoes, packed them in boxes, packed potatoes. The work was insanely fun and the people were lovely.
The women are terribly nice, but make themselves look just too enviably unpretentious. My Hebrew could have been worse. Although most spoke some German, I insisted (like Maudi with her Italian) on speaking Hebrew. I would have loved to stay longer, 1) you don't get closer to people so quickly, 2) that's the only way my Hebrew keeps improving, 3) I love the work, but we had left Aunt Frieda alone long enough, Peeper didn't get as much out of it, he didn't do farm work and doesn't know a word of Hebrew. If you want to stay longer you have to be there 2 months at least, for it to make sense. I would awfully like to do that sometime. There are a lot of really fine personalities. The books they have on their shelves are overwhelming. 80% agricultural books, 20% philosophical. If the painter likes to paint, they use him as a guard at night, then he can sleep half the day and paint half the day. One is a writer, writing for a Hebrew magazine, and so on.
Sunday we drove - to finally move into the chronological order - Beatrice and Judah Magnes and David M. along the coast to Natanya.
Natanya is a new colony right on the midland sea and a steep, partly hardened sand wall leads down.
It is enormously reminiscent of Campen, except that the sea is incredibly much bluer. Mrs. Moul has a lovely little modern house there in the middle of her pardes, where we lunched.
-Then along the coast to the north. All this land now belongs to the Keren Kagemeth, and is being settled in part by the Hityashvuth Haelet. It is said to be the best soil in Palestine, with room for many new settlers. A real road through does not yet exist here, and we had to take a Bedouin with us to show us the way to Chadera. The Arabs are, I think, by nature the most unfriendly people there is. It was so typical that this Bedouin only came to help us under the condition that he must be paid in advance.
At 5 o'clock or close, we arrived in Haifa. Mrs. Magnes and David had stayed in Natanya. There we lead directly to Mrs. Weizmann at my request. She opened the door for us herself, is very fresh and deeply indignant that Chaim is not there for her birthday. The apartment just as stuffy as it was then, amazing how Chaim and Vera have changed. Dr. Biram had not actually gotten up from strep throat yet. He had a coat over his pajamas and bandaged neck, so I left him at Magnes' insistence. He seems to have an enormous amount of students and can't take in as much as he wants to, that's all I can say about him.
The hotel in Haifa on Carmel, although it has changed name and owner, is still just as uncomfortably cold and awful as it was then. Haifa itself has changed enormously, with endless modern new buildings and a long harbor. Struck and wife came briefly, but I used the time to talk a bit to Magnes tete-a-tete. His Bendi failed Cambridge. I feel so sorry for the boy because he really tried his best, and it should be the same for all Palestinians because the learning and working system here is so different.
Monday morning, before we left Haifa, we went to see a weaving school that a young American woman who married a Palestinian has opened to give the Chaluzoth good activity in their free time. Her husband is a teacher and has written a book about Palestine. Lovely people.
Then through the Emek Valley to Beth-Alpha, where we saw the truly magnificent old synagogue. Almost as much as by the synagogue itself, I was fascinated by the young worker who, coming directly from the cow-stable, with great enthusiasm brought to light his almost fantastic knowledge about the excavations and their significance. The government has built a special house for the site-keeper.
Then to En Charod, where a Schomer rode up to our car as soon as he saw Magnes, and said that he would soon come to the university, because the herbarium collection was very important for his experimental garden. He then persuaded us to go and see it. This experimental station and nursery, which is now important for the whole Emek, was started by the Kwuzah some years ago from their savings, and is now one of the biggest income sources. It is the same kind of work as Rechovot, only here the climate and soil are quite different, and more practice- than science-oriented.
At noon we went to Gewa, where Magnes and Frieda left us after lunch.
Strangely strong class differences have formed in the short time since we were here. The ball the other day, which had vole'e the people to the tea, given by the “Young Women Hebrew Association” in honor of Aunt Frieda and to cover the budget, was showing an international class infinitely separated from the Chaluzim. The best examples are Hadassah Samuel, an outspoken creature of luxury, and Arlosoroff, who is also gripped by social vanity, gradually losing the hinterland. Hadassah's grandmother was Chaluzah, Arlosoroff comes from the labor movement. Will this class continue to grow and what else distinguishes it from the rest of the world? Do the Jews only want to build an elite class because they were admitted somewhere before and want to display the same platitudes? I do not like to and do not want to believe it. On the other hand, our Shmuel in Gewa had such a strong worker-socialist feeling that he sees us as capitalists (or even Nebi Samuel, who was there before us for a week), despite being Jews, as another world.
The other day a Palestinian Jew came to En Charod. The children surrounded him and asked who the strange-looking man was, to which they were told - a Jew. Thereupon the whole herd danced around him and chanted delightfully at him “A Jew, a Jew!.” Isn't it a strange situation that these children, growing up carefree here in the colonies, don't know that they are Jews, it is so taken for granted that you never talk about it - that when they see the embodied distortion of your comrades of generations earlier, they laugh at them.
The university. There again is a problem, which, if you understand Magnes' struggle for life, you see best. The aim of this university was and is to create an intellectual humane center for all Jews. This means giving them first class “people” who care as much, if not more, about the education of the students as they do about knowledge in a specialized field. Nowadays you can get reputation only if you specialize in unknown fields. (Definition of a specialist: A man who knows more and more about less and less!) Well, one does that: what happens? One is no longer comprehensive. How do you choose the areas? According to the demands of the country. A new restriction. The question is: should we continue to be important in mathematics, as the experts in this field who were at the university have shown, should we emphasize oriental research, which offers a lot of material here and is important for the whole Jewish community, or should we focus on agriculture and science, with which the importance becomes more local for the time being. Should one build a college and emphasize the educational part more, or should it remain exclusively research. - As many questions as there are, there are as many different parties. Magnes has a damn hard time, especially because he doesn't speak the same language as these people. He sees the big line and has to try not to get it too distorted in compromises by realities and practical difficulties.
By the way, our Schmuel in Gewa is at the moment just married for the 2nd time on paper. There is actually a law that those who marry a Palestinian are allowed to stay in the country. So girls who came to the country without a permit go this way and get divorced after 3 months. Great, huh?
I spoke with Scholem yesterday. Since you were here, father, in his view, nothing new happened in this area. He has been receiving the publications of the Warburg library for years and sends them to Hamburg. If something should come about in the future, he will always try everything to work as closely as possible with the library.
Last night we saw the Gabimah in Anuchah: “Your People.” A tailor's story, since that's what this guild used to call itself. A superior performance. I spoke to Meskin afterwards. Their situation is incredibly sad. We will see them again next week in Tel Aviv.
Thanks for Mother's long, sweet letter from December 21, and for Erich's two letters. I am moved by the resumption of his bet and have not smoked since the letter arrived the day before yesterday afternoon. I have left Mrs. Schwabacher's account not once, but 10 times. Mr. Weseloh, Nebelung and Cyreacus know about it: Depositenkasse Winterhude, Dresdner Bank.
Ah God, I could go on writing for hours. But I hear father's sighing “stop” over THIS length.
Transition smoothly into the new year tomorrow, my most intense wishes and thoughts are with you.
Please send this letter to Lola, Anchen and show it to Dachi.
Heartfelt, your child
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Dearest Family,
I see from Mother's letter to Aunt Frieda that you have not yet had my Jerusalem Epistle, and I curse the distance. As soon as I have experienced something, I wish you could share it with me immediately, but my God, I am only human and cannot create experiences on paper.
I think I know now what attracts me to this country. - There are more real people here in the square meter than anywhere else. By that I mean people who live their lives and whose beliefs, thoughts and actions are in harmony. They try to live their worldview and solve their problems. But it does not remain with this, in your eyes perhaps egoistic solution (nevertheless I personally believe that being an example is the only effective influence on the transformation of mankind) 1. […] by the many people, who live in this sense, such an atmosphere is created, which is alive to the last drop (in contrast to stagnant), that the life of each individual finds a response, and the individual does not swim like everywhere else in the world against the stream, but co-shapes the river bed, 2. because all together are tending the same child, the newborn land, the homeland, which is at the same time soil and teacher for their new becoming-human, forcing them to break down nature and thus […], that is, bringing them closer to the real values of life - and thus giving them a guidance in many COMMON problems to solve, which here, where one begins with everything anew, are still in such a way as they can be solved , can be tackled, because not yet everything is banal, as otherwise in the world, and therefore also does not lead to nonsensical compromises. I don't want to say that it is a paradise, no place in the world can thus isolate itself nowadays, and perhaps here, more than anywhere else there are threads flowing from all over the world, which are covered with dirt. Whether these positive forces, which have united here, are strong enough a) to hold out purely practically, b) but also in times of upswing know how to preserve the real values, I can not say, but I feel so eager to help, to prove my theoretical gifts here in practice. Certainly, the really strong and great one, wherever he is, can overcome all difficulties and opposition, and there is a certain weakness in the fact that one needs the environment and assistance for the realization of a gift, but just in the situation in which the world is at the moment, the individual goes down, is crushed and is at most a drop on a hot stone, which evaporates without a trace and can come to the visible creation only when he sets out on the same path with others.
The day before yesterday, we went to Tel Aviv, which has grown just strikingly and is very crowded. You can't find an apartment or a house, we spent most of the day with the painter Rubin, whom Mother America met. Aunt Frieda bought two of his paintings. I think they are sometimes good, but never great. He is not a significant painter, but a fine man. He took us to see the Mayor of Tel Aviv, a 72 year old man who is also the director of the small museum, where he has 2 little rooms upstairs where he lives. He looks 55, rides through the streets of Tel Aviv every morning at 7am to see if they are kept clean. He showed us quite proudly his bond of Tel Aviv, which is taken in America in 1921 and pays its interest service well and timely every year. I advised Fischer on a postcard to take an interest in this paper after he told me about the success of his life, the Tientsin-Pukow payment! I also visited Bamberger. Oh God, what a Polish economy! A room where his parents-in-law were sitting, she wearing a wig, as a fromm one, he and endless children in kippas and all imaginable utensils in total chaos in room and also on the balcony. They arrived with 4 small children, the smallest is still nursing, the husband is still unemployed, volunteers in the morning at the Tel Aviv Chamber of Commerce, and in the afternoon eagerly learns Hebrew with a teacher. He is in desperate correspondence with the Anglo-Palestine (Hoffin), that is, he writes and expects promptness, and after 14 days he goes in person and says he still has no answer, at which he is kindly put off. He has not seen anything of the country, except Jerusalem. Actually he is not so unhappy.
In the afternoon we visited Hadassah Samuel's parents, where we met Shunarga (?) Levin, who sends Lola “his love” and you “his regards.”
He is the best speaker I can think of, wielding a fiery anti-Bolshevism speech, not letting anyone else get a word in between and is being consumed by his inner fire. He is really sick and, when he has spent all of himself, collapses. He has fantastic charm, but he is somehow not a great person. He should go around the country with an elaborate program, Jewish-Arab understanding, and exhort the Jews to actively tackle this problem.
In the evening we saw the Dybbuk, which was given especially for us in the same small theater where we heard the “Eternal Jew” at that time.
I had never seen it and was deeply impressed. Afterwards we met the whole Gabimah and Margot Rosner Klausner, who was in my ear for a long time with all the problems. The situation is briefly like this. A few months ago they really wanted to close Gabimah. Then they made a last attempt to appeal to Palestine itself and to secure annual donations. The success was greater than expected. 1000 Pounds have already been raised, 1000 are still in prospect and the campaign is by no means exhausted. This has given them enormous courage to see how the country needs and supports them, and as a result they have 2 new plays in the works. One “Jud Suess,” Feuchtwanger himself will be coming in the next few weeks, the second is a Bible play. But, of course, they are by no means out of the woods. The actors got 12 pounds each last year, and are therefore each personally horribly in debt. They claim that one thing could save them - and that would be the construction of a theater with possible housing for the actors. Because the rent of the Jerusalem theater, as well as the Tel-Aviv theater, is so high that they can hardly get by if they want a theater and the ticket prices are kept low. They are unhappy about 3 things. 1) The promised money (from Germany) has not arrived despite the results received. 2) It was demanded that some actors be left out. However, since the Gabimah lives like a kwuzah, it is simply impossible to kick people out against their (the group's) will. It is like cutting a tree lengthwise and saying: keep growing. Besides, some of them will leave voluntarily in the near future. 3) they have been told not to take an expensive (that is, good) director, against which they are quite adamant. Because their art is so completely built on the harmonious whole, which the director sculpts from them down to the smallest detail, they would not be the Gabimah, if it were simply left to the ingenious individual performance.
- She is persuading Lola to write often about everything, because in this way they would quietly lose contact, and only in this way could one explain her last suggestions, since they were based on not knowing enough of Gabimah. I only repeat what Margot Rosner was putting into my head. - Personally, it seems to me that another problem is more important. One must be clear whether the Gabimah should remain the theater of World Jewry and thus something special, or whether it should become local Palestinian theater. The latter would mean that they produce at least one play a month and not only Jewish plays. There is a great demand for this since the Arben (?) Theater went out of business. In my opinion it would be a pity. One should build them the theater here, but they should keep the stamp of uniqueness. (It is the same problem as that of the university).
From 18-24 we will be in Paris. Peeper wishes that the rest of his belongings (including crown jewels in Maudi's safe, as well as mail of which he keeps that Erich sits on) to be sent to Paris, Ritz Hotel.
Have me as loved as I have you,
and please send this letter to Lola.
Sincerely, Gisi
Thanks for your letter, father, about not specializing too much in oranges. In the Settlement of a Thousand Families, as well as in the colonies, there is “mixed farming,” that is, enough to feed oneself. After all, there is an enormous amount of private industry that is purely focused only on oranges, which is a great danger. However, I will inquire more precisely.
Pardon my writing, but I am still crying after my pen and chronically struggling with any other…
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The letter has of course been left sitting around.
Maudi, Aunt Frieda really wishes more than sincerely that you come to Paris, and how happy I would be, I need not say. Please, please, dearest Scnue, Schnuepfel, Hascheptu, Mauz-Schmauz, be a sport and come! One should celebrate the celebrations as they fall!
Please, let me know Aliescha's address,
sincerely
Gisi
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Jerusalem
Dearest family,
the last lines from Jerusalem. Tomorrow we leave the promised land and have been here a full 4 weeks. I am too thankful to be sad and feel quite clearly that I will come again. We have seen and done much less this time, but we have discussed a lot, and I think we have gone a little deeper into the issues. I feel (and this may sound very pompous and conceited) that I have advanced inwardly, not by four weeks, but by at least a year, if one can take the measure of time, and I look forward unspeakably to being able to tell you all about it soon, to sharing it with you and discussing it.
Hexter and Mrs. Bentwich will be traveling back with us. I am especially looking forward to the latter, she is exceptionally bright and we have great discussions about socialism. She stood for the Labor party in the last election.
Yesterday we were with Magnes, Hexters, Mrs. Novaminsky, Mrs. Bentwich, Sieffs (who arrived here 3 days ago) and Hadassah Samuel at Be'er Tuviah, the largest settlement of the “Thousand Family” scheme. There are 45 families, 300 souls, each settled with 8 dunams of orange land, 4 cows, 100 chickens and land vor vetegalbes. The condition for admission was to be married and have 25 pounds of assets. Next year they already will begin to repay. Here, then, your “mixed farming,” father, is carried out par excellence. It is one of the most southern colonies.
Mr. Sieff is really a smart, educated man. By the way, he has given me the chance to make a bit of living. He is looking for Sperr-Mark, since Marx & Spencer buy a lot in Germany and wants to pay the foreign Sperr-Mark owner directly pounds at the old pound rate. Can we not take care of this, and if not us - Rosenthal? I promised him to write about it from Hamburg. There must be some catch, otherwise the German banks would surely have been scrambling for the business.
I made a long visit with Edwin Samuel to Ben Schemen, which has grown enormously in the meantime, and is really kept immaculately. They now have 250 children living in Kwuzot of 20-30.
Very soon I can tell you all in detail verbally, now I must pack, sadly.
I hope to see Maudi as a surprise in Paris.
Yours sincerely blessed child
Gisi
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[Palestine stamp]
[photo of the King David Hotel, Jerusalem]
Dear Erich, Thank you very much for your letter with the new proposal, about which I was deeply touched for 3 days, but now I am a sissy again. I simply cannot be bothered to think of not smoking, while there are so many problems just itching to be solved by me. Keep me your goodwill anyway. I will be back on the 25th,
This is the back of our palace, please show it to the parents.
As always and ever,
your darling.
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Semiramis Hotel, Cairo
Dearest family,
Actually it is not worth it, to write any more. But both Auntie and Peep are still getting dressed, and so I have my freedom of speech for a time being.
As you can see, we have become unfaithful to the Shepherd. Supposedly because one should see the pyramid and Sphinx here in the morning when waking up, what we have already failed for 2 mornings. But we see the Nile on whose bank the hotel sits, and that is already a not so despicable sight.
Yesterday we did some real sight-seeing with a dragoman. That is, several mosques, of which 3 are quite beautiful old from the 13th century. In the center is a large 4-cornered open space with an enclosure, and as it should be, a washroom for ablution before prayer. Around the square there are 3-4 rows of columns, whose archivolts and capitals are all in the most beautiful patterns. The most impressive thing is probably the dimensions. Another mosque has this floor plan [drawing of the floorplan] Each of these 4 squares is for the 4 different sects of Mohammedanism. The central square, as in all these mosques, is uncovered. The most beautiful ornament is the heavenly ancient Kufic script.
Yesterday was very exhausting. Why? Because from noon to evening I was surrounded by shadows and was driven into the arms of my bridegroom Victor Mosseri. I did not believe that such a thing still existed. I think I could have limped and squinted, and the match would have been considered good after all. At the same time, I must say, I would make the better deal, because the “young man” has everything, and can do everything you can wish for! 1) He is stinking rich, which shows itself to the outer viewer in 2 cars, a big house. He is in the large cotton corporation of his father, who died 2 years ago, in which he works from 8 in the morning until 2. In the afternoon he works scientifically and experimentally in his laboratory, which is in the basement of his house. He is a chemist, that is, more agronomist, and is currently discovering mathematical laws for the growth of the plant. His father was a scientific bomb and the son seems almost same famous already. He is also the editor of a magazine in this field, for which he writes articles. He is Italian by nationality, like all Mosseris, speaks English, French and Italian perfectly, besides German, Arabic and Hebrew, went to school in France and studied at Cambridge, where he was apparently known as a genius, and represented Cambridge in fencing. Besides, he is a good tennis player and a member of the club in Cairo, where polo, tennis, squash and golf are played.
But now to the short description of the comedy: as you know, I was just at the hairdresser when Jagnes Mosseri visited us on the outward journey in Cairo in hotel. They waited until I was ready, and I was introduced to my Victor, completely unsuspecting! A little man, squirming with formality and politeness. He has quite a head, something like Siegmund. Then we left, had to promise high and holy to let them know when we would come on the rowing trip, which unfortunately Aunt Frieda had done. In the afternoon, after a visit to Dr. Meyerhof (Lola's recommendation), I arrive at the hotel to find uncle and offspring sitting there. The offspring tells me about his work, asks if I would like to see the laboratory: Yes, with pleasure! Uncle Mosseri says - yes, I will give you 3/4 of an hour. The young couple roars in a smart car towards the future home, I get everything explained to me. Uncle Mosseri then ostentatiously says: he is going to the opera tonight, whereupon Victor sweetie says - he has nothing planned, Auntie then says with great presence of mind: unfortunately my children have sleeping sickness, so that our main person does not dare to make any suggestions. The following day we are of course invited there for lunch. Victor picks us up with his two cars. Uncle Mosseri, Auntie and Peep drive in Isotta Falcetti, the young couple is left alone in a nice little Opel, which he drives himself. After lunch with its 102 courses, my Victor wants to show me his club. I have the flash of inspiration to say that Peep would surely be very interested in it. Then we pick up Auntie and drive to the heavenly garden at the barrages, a nile dam, north of Cairo. (Maudi, the vegetation would have fascinated you.) But oh horror, my Victor is coursing around me with his photo apparatus from the left and from the right, I convulsively cling to Auntie, so that he cannot get any of me alone, and he says - his device is less suitable for groups. He now suggested that I should have tea with him at his mother's, who has not gone out since his father's death, or we should all come back to his uncle’s. We all replied unanimously, we had to write letters, unfortunately, but perhaps he would quickly have a cup of tea with us at the hotel.
Whereupon, looking deep into my eyes, he says: “If YOU want it!” and now he says he would go to Palestine, where he has never been, within the next 3 months. I have made him do that, he had never heard anyone talk so sincerely and enthusiastically about Palestine.. I literally did not say a word about Palestine, except “we had a lovely time.” He will send me the photos and tell about his impressions in Palestine, and so a correspondence will start, and in the course of the year he will come to Berlin shortly and maybe, if he is allowed, to Hamburg. (He is in fact invited to organize the agricultural part of an exhibition in Milan). - So, and “now please let me, despite it is not very polite, spit 3 times.” Here is the difference of today's youth and that of 2 generations ago. O, no, better to be buried alive!
You know, politeness is a curse. I have noticed that on this whole journey. Because if I am polite, then I can only be nice and charming, and not express what I want to say, and if I want to be honest, as I can only be, then I am impolite and I should not be! I can't speak this language. I was really desperate in this atmosphere, my God, what could I do, I couldn't say “I see your intentions, go to hell!.” The whole thing was actually ridiculously funny, but I finally lost my sense of humor when he was again standing at the track at 8 o'clock in the morning with a book in his hand. I ostentatiously grabbed Hexter, who was with us, and whispered to him - come out to him, but it all helped nothing.
Enough of that, we're getting further away from Cairo, yes, thank God, every minute.
It's strange to be back on Ansonia. Every corner reminds us of our old trip. The ship rocks decidedly more than the “gears” did, but so far I’ve been fine with that. The ship is very empty.
Thanks for Maudi's letter of the 30th. I could not understand why I did not get enough letters, only now I realized that you heard too late that we postponed our departure.
It would be nice if Erich really showed up in Paris, but he MUST bring Maudi with him.
Much more in person. I look forward to seeing you!
Your child
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Paris
My dears,
Thanks for Mother's and Father's dear letters, which I have been already longing for.
Franz Halm's death is shocking. One would like to know if it was necessary, if it was predetermined? I really liked him. I have already written to Beate and Rudo.
Place Vendomé, Place de la Concorde Champs Elysee, Rue de la Paix - so this is what I was allowed to see for the first time! God, that's really CONNECTED, one is floored and can only exclaim “Yes!”!
It is the first time that I see a city, which is not arbitrarily house next to house, each its style, a picture, but something that was wrought for the sake of the total picture and only then one thought about any practicality.
Yesterday at 2:30 we arrived here and then immediately walked through the streets. The evening was with Lippmanns (Americans who know you) at Prumier. Oh, I wish I had a rubber stomach! Then with Peep headed to Pope, the police man with whom he had traveled, and with whom we now go to a Persian antiques’ store. For lunch we both went with Pope to a formal meal in a French house, which was given in his honor. This afternoon with Chaim. Tonight with Paul Sachs and wife, Otto Schuff’s arrival, tomorrow morning in the house, Saturday - Erich.
Venice was freezing cold, we went to Academia delli belli Arte. Some heavenly things there […] Saw my doctor briefly. The sea voyage was very nice, one afternoon three quarters of the passengers were seasick but your hero held on.
It is good that I am already bankrupt, otherwise I would buy Paris!
I am looking forward to seeing you and I have VOLUMES to tell you.
Soon flies into your arms
Your spoiled happy child,
(Mother, I literally adore you on […] and […] and imagine everywhere what you would say!)