Carly is very excited about turning 59. It is a special number. Not only is it a prime number, but it is the last one before she enters into the next decade. Her 60s, which is when people retire. Although Carly is technically semi-retired already, she is still working part-time in the UK for the NHS at her beloved Whittington Hospital. As she now has her Israeli Medical License, she can see paediatric patients in Tel Aviv, but they haven’t really been particularly forthcoming. So far, only one patient per month in the first 60 days! But both were really interesting, and Carly felt she was able to help them and make a diagnosis. Not necessarily the ones the parents wanted to hear! The first one had ear pain, but he seemed not to care at all when Carly carefully placed her stethoscope into his ears for him to listen to his and his father’s heartbeat. Her stethoscope is so tight that it even hurts Carly’s ears. The child was fascinated and did not complain at all. So not much real otalgia (ear pain) going on there. The other one was a delightful, lively child who had an itchy bottom and kept one of his fingers almost permanently down the back of his pants to scratch his nether regions. This seemed at odds to his mother’s apparent microbe obsession which prevented Carly from removing her son’s shoes to weigh him, in case the clinic floor might be full of germs and harmful to him. Maybe this mother thought that germs from outside the body are so much more damaging than those from inside his bottom. Carly just sighed to herself, “How wrong some people are”.
But this story is about her birthday and not Carly’s antics as a doctor. Carly decided she should throw a party. She had already had three parties since her arrival in Israel, six months previously. There were two Jaffa craft evenings designed to bring together women of all ages who wanted to knit, sew, and embroider. They were both super successful. Then she was persuaded on the back of these parties, and having an apartment suited to such events, to host a New Year’s Eve (NYE) celebration. These gatherings always follow the same theme. Carly finds the street art of her favourite illustrator (Imaginary Duck) and uses this with the text. There are quite a number of slightly different ones around Jaffa, so she isn’t about to run out. The NYE one was well attended. This was her first one with a few men – husbands could come to this. Everyone brought food and lots of people drifted in and out. Certainly, there were people who had other parties to dash off too. And, also, several people, like Carly, who prefer to go to bed early. Not that Carly could do this on NYE when she was entertaining her friends in her flat. She hoped everyone would disperse at around 5 minutes after midnight. Maybe earlier? Carly is always optimistic she will get to bed early, but she knew she must stay awake for the year change from 2023 to 2024 before ushering everyone determinedly out of the door.
There were lots of people at the party. When people decided to leave Carly was very clear. She thanked them. She hates it when party hosts reprimand party attendees for wanting to leave before the end. It is a bit of a mantra for her. She wants people to say goodbye and not feel guilty. After all, they have all made an effort in getting there and Carly feels she should thank them for coming. Only the last six die-hards remained at 23:30. So, they all sat down and chatted about their plans for 2024, what they enjoyed and didn’t enjoy about 2023. Together they did a countdown, and it was easy for everyone to kiss everyone else as is mandatory as there were so few punters left. They also lit sparklers and whizzed them about in the air whilst drinking fizzy wine.
One minute later a siren went off. Talulah, Carly’s faithful hound, was already in the bedroom. She is a very sociable dog on the beach or park but not so keen on parties. Who only knows where the cat Bobbin was at that time, but the six humans all bundled with their drinks into Carly’s safe room (the mamad), which conveniently doubles up as her bedroom. The party continued in there with six people lounging on her bed and Talulah curled up underneath.
Carly sighed. No one was going to leave by five minutes past midnight, as the rules stated that you need to stay inside for 10 minutes after the siren starts, allowing time for rubble to stop falling. Luckily, most people lived nearby, and the one person from slightly further afield could easily catch a bus. All in all, a very successful party and Carly was in bed by 00:20. She bargained with herself that she could do the clearing up in the morning.
So, the stage was set for Carly to host her own birthday party. By now she had amassed quite a lot of friends. Nearly all new. Mostly Anglos. Often through her dog and now more often through other friends who she’d met through said dog Talulah. She chose another one of the Imaginary Duck illustrations of a girl with her cat and suggested people bring food and drink.
To ensure she used language that was funny and appropriate rather than too direct and rude, she checked it first with a friend. She asked people from 19:07 as this was a prime number and she was hopeful they would all have left by around 22:07. Obviously, some could not come as they had other commitments. One of her friends berated her for making it on a Thursday as this was her art night out. Carly apologised for when her birthday fell and said she would be fine for the next few years when 21st March wouldn’t be on a Thursday…
The weather was a bit mixed, so the food came in from the garden and later went back outside when the drizzle stopped. Some people made marvellous cocktails, others brought along white chilli chicken, smoked salmon held together with chive stalks and there were lots of desserts too. Carly suggested her old school friend light her cake and lead the customary singing. There were actually three songs. Happy birthday in English, the same tune but translated into Hebrew and Carly’s favourite one “Happy birthday ooooh, happy birthday ooooh, people die every day, happy birthday ooooh”. Recently her good friend Nina has added a line before the people dying; babies cry every day, etc. Carly likes this addition. It is slightly less negative. Carly was delighted with how many people came. She thoroughly enjoyed herself and left opening presents till the next day. That way she could open them and thank people all at the same time. This is very important. Thanking people for presents. Yes, nods Carly. This is imperative.
She was given some jewellery, some scarves – one fabulous and one ghastly – and two restaurant meals. Nina took her to a wonderful beachside classic Jaffa eatery the next day for lunch. Delicious, with wine and lots of girl chats and laughter. Two other friends decided to treat her to a very special evening. They planned it well ahead of time so it wouldn’t clash with netball. This is a Sunday sacred event for Carly although she was shockingly bad at this game having not played since school 42 years beforehand. But she is necessary for the team to make up numbers. They settled on a date in early May. It was a wine and cheese evening. “Well, that is pretty standard”, thinks Carly. However, it was at Talaga’at. A centre in Jaffa for blind people who work in a specially designed restaurant and perform in a theatre. You had to lock away your phones, so they didn’t ring and light up and ruin the experience. You went into a dark corridor and then walked in holding firmly onto both shoulders of the person in front of you. Pitch black. One of the hosts sat you down and told you to carefully inch your hands forward to find the plate with the cheeses and the three glasses of wine in front of it. One red. One rosé. One white.
Being a person of limited patience and eager to get going, Carly sampled the wine to the right. Carly expressed silently to herself that it was white. She was almost certain. Then she wasn’t completely sure and so rather than embarrass herself (not that anyone would see her going bright red), she didn’t tell anyone. In fact, she was wrong. It was red! Amazing how much significance colour plays in what you drink when it seems clear to all sighted wine lovers that red is completely different from white or rosé in taste as well as scent. The latter two could be confused with each other but not red. Well Carly didn’t know the difference and was rather mystified. And a bit upset, as she does so like to be RIGHT ALWAYS.
The hosts all had amazing stories to tell. The best question was about how blind people dreamed but all of them there did originally have sight as children and so did dream visually. Carly wonders how people who are blind from birth do dream. It was fun to learn new things, and experience drinking and eating in a novel setting. Carly was very grateful to have had such a wonderful and celebratory birthday.
