Cruising the streets of the city.
(photo credit: BENITA LEVIN)
“GOOD MORNING. We’re going bungee jumping and wall climbing and something else.” That was the SMS message I received first thing from my 12-year-old son. He and his friends had gone camping near Acre in the north the previous night, as part of birthday celebrations for one of his classmates. The birthday boy’s dad was with the group of excited youngsters, so I knew there was a responsible adult in charge. But I couldn’t help but smile wryly at the casual matter-of-fact plans my eldest child was making – clearly bypassing any need for permission or even discussion with his parents about his rather daring and adventurous sounding plans.Even less amusing was the vague term “something else?” What exactly could that mean, in context of the somewhat dangerous pastimes of attaching oneself to a belt before jumping off a precipice or trying to scale a wall. I consulted with my better half to see if he shared the same concerns. He did sound a little surprised at the said plans that were being laid out by our firstborn, but was quick to add that he was sure the boys would have a lot of fun. (I understood at that point, why some teenagers we know had chosen to break the news to relatives about their respective plunges out of planes and over lakes only after the said deed had been safely completed, and all were safe on solid ground.) Later that same day, our son returned to our home in Ra’anana, beaming. Of course, he and his friends had loved every minute of the daring escapades and assured me there was nothing to worry about. It made me think of the freedom he and his sister were enjoying in their new home. Just 18 months into our new life in a new country with a new culture, and the restraints and rules of before were long gone out the window.
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