Not everything happens at home is easy either.

“We don’t help anyone. Don’t get your hopes up.” – a security guard at the Social security organization told us.

“Tough. Really, Noam?” – I said to my son with a sigh.

“You can’t say more precisely. Let’s go knock on the door of my former school, Haya.” – suggested the son.

A few minutes later we did just that.

“Of course, I’ll try to help you, come back in a few days.” – suggested the school’s social worker.

“Yeah, looks like it’s a bummer.

Noam, from today’s conversation with the owner of the “Wanderer”, the hostel where we stayed, American George, I realized that he is ready to help us by lowering the price of housing?” – I asked my son.

“Yes, Haya, he is a good person, an altruist, he likes to help people.” – Noam replied.

But as it turned out, we were again in for an unpleasant surprise.

“Unfortunately, the hostel will most likely be closed tomorrow for a few days, we are waiting for the check, inspector.” – volunteer Ariel told us at the entrance.

“Which inspector?” – we asked with surprise.

“I don’t know, ask the owner, he will drive up now.” – offered the volunteer.

And indeed, while we were dumbfounded digesting the news, the entrance gate opened and a tall, elderly, gray-bearded man entered with a large plastic package in his hands, filled with buns sprinkled with sesame seeds.

“Help yourself, this is from my second hostel, I just closed it. Tomorrow, by 10 am, this one will most likely need to be closed. The inspector is expected, they called me, they said that there will be an inspection. Sorry guys, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, but looks like you need to find another place to live.” – George added.

“Do you know any cheap hostel?” – we asked one of the hostel workers.

“Yes, I know, “Anna”, it’s not far from here …” – he answered.

“Well, let’s go look for …” – we decided.

“We have already searched the entire area, but we failed to find a hostel with that name. What should we do, Noam?” – after an hour of unsuccessful searches, I asked my son.

“Shop workers usually have this kind of information.” – he replied.

“Exactly.” – I added.

“Shalom, do you know where the hostel “Anna” is?” – we asked the cashier of the nearest store, who was clearly bored with nothing to do.

“Guys, I don’t know the name of the hotel opposite, where there is a bamboo fence and red lanterns, but I would not advise you to go there, the other day I saw how a black man was taken out of there, perhaps other hotels in this area are less criminal, but I’m not going to advise you, you’d better see for yourself…” – he replied.

“Yeah, not funny.” – I said.

“Absolutely.” – added the son.

“We need to do something, dear, let’s go with things in the morning to the diving club and the “Starfish” guest house, where I used to work and we lived with you, I think they won’t kick us out.” – I suggested.

“I hope so too.” – he agreed.

No sooner said than done.

“Starfish” was located in a spacious two-story white villa with a large yard, and a spacious swimming pool, necessary for learning to dive.

To be continued…


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