Simon's Diary

Israel 2004

Day 7



Today has been a quiet one. I've either been sleeping or writing the diary. One of the problems about doing this diary is whether to have an agenda, a kind of aim or story line before I start it. I try not to work like that, but instead just to see what happens, to reflect on what comes up and hope for the best. Through most of this week I wondered if there was a lack of focus, and I felt like I should be trying to write something meaningful but to try to do something like that is more than likely going to come out badly. Fate maybe has an agenda of its own.

The hotel offers a service where if you pay $15 you can log in to a wireless network that allows the user to access the Internet. The room we had was on a floor that can't use this system so for me to use it meant either changing rooms, or sitting in the lobby. So tonight after the main proceedings of the day had finished I went down to the lobby and signed up for the wireless Internet access. It took me about an hour to get it to work and even the it was very slow. It was only when using the reception desk to call the help line that I realised it was working fast from that position and it was mainly an issue of signal strength. I obviously couldn't sit at the reception desk so I compromised and sat in the lobby. My original position was tucked away at the back but now I was in the front area, in the line of sight of anyone passing by. Boris had gone to bed by this point and on the whole the hotel was quiet. Prostitutes were coming in and out, sometimes they were leaving the hotel just 20 minutes after they'd arrived. The woman on the reception desk made me a cup of tea and at 4 in the morning one of the security guards made me a cup of coffee. By this point I was actually ready to stop and make my way up to my bed, but the offer of a free coffee made me stay. It was at this point that an email came through from my half sister's daughter Amalia to tell me that she had given birth to a bay girl in March, and that she had been pregnant when I visited her last July. I had been thinking about her lately and because she had moved I was not able to contact her easily. The significance of this is that Amalia's daughter is the first of the fourth generation of a family that are still alive. Boris was the youngest child of his family but ironically it's his granddaughter that's produced the first great-grandchild. What's even more ironic is that Boris isn't a family man and outside of gene's there's been very little contribution by him towards this occurrence.

Boris' mother lived in Latvia, she was one of sixteen children 13 of which were killed by the the Flu epidemic around the early part of the century. Boris came from a family that lived in poverty, fragmented by the war and one where his father was absent and irresponsible and his mother died painfully from Cancer when he was just. Even as a young boy Boris had been mischievous and was often scolded by his mother. If he was a child now he'd probably have an ADD label and be medicated just to give everyone else a moment of peace. I often think of people as either planets or stars. Planets are sturdy and nurturing, and stars are no good to live on. But without the light and energy from stars planets would either be very dull or even become barren themselves. Boris it's true has not been a good father to his children but that is not the only way to look at someone and in many other respects he has been significant to others through out his life.

Boris had been a soldier at 14, had fought in the Israeli war of independence in 1948, has spent a life time traveling, had learned to speak over 12 languages, was a good street fighter, was a activist in the communist party in the 50's and instigated a few Strikes in his time, he was later known as a healer, and possibly has some psychic leanings, if such things exist, he was a painter, a singer, a womaniser beyond belief, and many other things beside this. Sadly for me he was never the father he should have been but while he was not a planet for me to grow on, he does shine light upon me, and even as a child what my mother told me about him had some effect.

A few years ago I got hold of some of the paper work about me from when I was in "Care" as a child and much of it focussed on my mother and showed a power struggle between her and one particular social worker who had a desire to get me away from my mother. One f the things I remember reading was a report that stated that what my mother had said about my father was just fantasy and couldn't possibly be true. But it was.

For me there was life before finding Boris and life after. Whilst earlier I dismissed Boris' effect on Amalia as possibly being insignificant the truth is that from the other perspective that of a descendent of someone it's actually extremely important to know about our genetically influenced predisposition. So much of who I am is similar to Boris, and that is without having ever meeting in any form that could be influential.

So tonight not only was I sitting with relatives that I've been introduced to over the last few years but a couple of others, namely Eduardo's children, Jessica and Jonathan.


Jessica and Jonathan


Jessica - Boris thinks she and I have a similar look, poor girl! -

Family meeting in the hotel


Boris and Eduardo two old men together suffering from indigestion


Who ate all the pies? OK I did and I had a chocolate mousse.


The old grumpy man himself Boris

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