Alex Mitchell - The 13th Tablet

‘Quite right. Take a seat and I’ll be with you in a minute.’ They sat down on mismatched plastic chairs.

‘Liat, this is the tackiest sandwich shop I’ve ever sat in.’

‘Yes. A true pearl in a sea of mud.’

‘Is that a political statement?’

‘No, a culinary one.’

‘Just checking.’

‘Thanks. I remember the last time we had a political discussion. I thought I was going to tear your eyes out.’

‘I was pretty close to slapping you.’

‘But we’re all grown up now, aren’t we?’

‘I don’t know. Are we?’ They laughed, then, without any warning, as was her habit, Liat launched into a monologue on the modern history of Tel Aviv. Mina smiled at her old friend, thinking that people don’t change much over time.

‘The name itself, Tel Aviv ‘ Liat began, ‘means ‘the hill of spring’. In a way, it is an apt description of a city that sprang from the desert. Although it began as a suburb of Yafo, an association called the ‘Ahuzat Bayit’ founded Tel Aviv in 1910 on sand dunes north of Yafo. A good example of the early socialist beginnings of Israel, the land was divided into parcels by drawing lots. Believe it or not, commercial enterprise was banned throughout the new city, it was practically communist! But the emigrants did not stick to these principles for long, or it might have become a hill of winter rather than one of spring. The book Alteneuland or Old New Land by Theodor Herzl, who is, after all, one of the founders of the Jewish emigration movement, was a tale of rebirth. In that sense, it’s pretty close to the Hebrew meaning of Tel Aviv. In the early 1950s, the two cities of Tel Aviv and Yafo merged into one to form Tel Aviv-Yafo’.

‘That’s what’s surprised me so far,’ interjected Mina, ‘the contrast between old Yafo and Tel Aviv’s high towers and modern buildings ‘.

‘Yes. The architecture of Tel Aviv is linked to the influx of German Jews after the modernist architectural movement was banned by the Nazis in the thirties. The immigrants built hundreds of Bauhaus constructions, all white or yellow, which gave rise to Tel Aviv’s nickname: the White City. Today Tel Aviv is the second largest city in Israel, and because of its odd Old New culture, its beaches and swanky cafes, it has a youthful and hip feel to it.’

‘You’re not referring to this snack-bar, I hope.’

‘Duh.’

The two women walked the old, narrow streets of Yafo, talking about the good old days. After a while they arrived at Tel Yafo, also known as ‘ancient Yafo’. The site dated back thousands of years and had been excavated by many archaeologists since the 1950s. The remains of a gate were found there with an inscription by the Egyptian Pharaoh Ramses II, dating back to the time he conquered the region. A replica of the gate lintels had been erected by archaeologists in their original location.

Mina was enraptured by the abundance of history in Israel, the rapid succession of events and the inexorable downfall of great empires. The Egyptian empire was countered by the Hittites from Anatolia in modern Turkey, but was not finally vanquished until Alexander the Great invaded it in the 4th century B.C.E. Then it was the turn of the Romans, who gave the names of Syria and Palestine to the region. Israel was the name of Jacob in the bible. In a way, it was both an ancient and a recent name. Crusaders followed, then the Ottoman Empire and finally the British took over, until they relinquished their Palestinian Mandate in favour of the creation of the new state of Israel in 1948. What a wonderful mess! Liat seemed to guess what Mina was thinking.

‘I’ve always thought of Israel as a palimpsest,’ said Liat.

‘I know exactly what you mean, the way history is written over and over again on the same parchment.’

‘Mina, I know I should wait patiently for you to tell me about Mosul, but I really want to know what’s going on.’

‘Things are in a terrible state. You wouldn’t believe the daily tragedy.’

Liat was about to say that things weren’t exactly rosy in Israel, but thought better than to comment.

‘Although I’ve never been in the line of fire, and luckily I was in the States last month when most of the carnage took place, I’ve witnessed the results. The bombed areas, the distraught families.’

Mina went on to describe the continuous fear that people wore on their face like a grimacing mask, and before long she had portrayed the destroyed monuments, the lootings and the little hope she had that anything would improve in the near future.

‘I narrowly escaped being shot myself.’ She bit her tongue.

‘What do you mean? On the street?’

‘Yes, on the street,’ Mina lied.

There was no way she would involve her friend in her ongoing troubles. Liat sensed there was something odd going on, but she let it drop. Mina would talk to her…, but not now.

‘So tell me more about this interview? Are you ready?’

‘I’ll tell you tomorrow, after I’ve made a fool of myself. I haven’t prepared for it enough really.’

‘What are you going to wear?’

‘I bought a few things in Amman.’

‘Your usual stuff?’ Liat asked, with a raised eyebrow.

‘I’m a bit short of cash until I get the grant money.’

‘Well, I’m not. I’m taking you shopping.’ She took Mina by the hand and they walked back to the car.

After a few solid hours of shopping, the two women were laden down with bags and walked into a bar. They were both happy and giggling like schoolgirls. They had missed each other sorely, but had not realised it until today.

‘I’d forgotten how tiring it was to shop with you. I’m exhausted,’ Mina said.

‘But happy?’ asked Liat.

‘Oh yes. Very happy.’

Mina dropped her bags and gave Liat a big hug. They sat down and as Mina looked at the drinks menu, she spotted the name of the bar. It was called Noa.

‘Is the name of this place really Noa?’

‘Yes, like the builder of the ark. Isn’t it funny?’

Mina didn’t respond. She could not help noticing these small signs, which were starting to stack up like an omen. Maybe her choice of studies and her recent adventures had more to them than a mere scholarly pursuit. Was she fated to track the history of Noah? Her rational mind usually fought against such superstitious ideas, but she could not shake the strange feeling she was part of a larger story here. She had thought she was following in the footsteps of Benjamin of Tudela. Maybe she should have checked first if he had been following someone else’s footsteps himself.

‘Are you alright Mina?’ Liat asked her brooding friend.

‘Yes of course. Let’s order some drinks pronto.’

‘What’s the rush?’ Liat asked, half-yawning.

‘Too much time spent in a non-wine-drinking country, that’s what!’

Two bottles of wine and some tasty nibbles later, Liat and Mina slumped back into one of the sofas. They propped their feet up on the coffee table in front of them and admired their newly bought Ferragamo high heels.

‘They’re lovely, Liat,’ Mina slurred.

‘Yes they are.’

‘If you don’t mind my asking…’

‘What?’ asked Liat.

‘With the fortune your parents left you, do you still need to work for a living?’

‘What you really mean is why am I working?’

‘Well, yeah.’

Liat thought about it for a moment, and then simply replied, ‘Because I enjoy it.’

‘Good answer!’ She could sense that Liat was about to ask her what she was hiding and the amount of alcohol she had drunk would make her an easy prey to thorough questioning. But Liat was as tipsy as her. Instead she asked her about Charlie.

‘It just didn’t work out,’ said Mina.