ABSTRACT
When I left Egypt in a hurry in 1949 and emigrated to Israel, I was determined to put behind me for ever the chapter of my life in that country. I decided to cut myself off from the past. I threw away all the fancy suits I had brought with me and purchased, with the very few pounds I had in my pocket, khaki trousers, biblical sandals and a wide belt, which almost everyone in the country wore. I wanted to become a pioneer, a peasant who dedicates his life to tilling our ancestral land. More than anything else, I wanted to look like the tough unpolished sabras (youngsters born in Israel) in my outward appearance, behavior, way of speaking and even my way of thinking. At the time, they embodied for me everything I dreamt of being. I boiled with wrath when people called me ole hadash (new immigrant) and even more when they described me, with a touch of contempt, as 'oriental Jew' or 'Egyptian'.
