When I was six I start to school "Hess" in Petah Tikva, which is a secular school, but I soon realize that, like my father, I'm different. It is the feeling that accompanies me there. I can not say why. (...) at the end of the year my father decided that I should move to school "Netzach Israel". His decision a little puzzling, because he sent me to a religious school though we are not religious. We kept the Sabbath and Dad put on tefillin before he went to work, he also wore a "kipa", but on Saturday we drove to the sea.
"Netzach Israel" school was ethnically mixed. Mirkin teacher taught there, and Littman teacher, and the teacher Susana, the teacher Gloskh. And my friends are Leibowitz and Lark and Gideon Ben-Ami and Dov Croitoru. Sephardim and Ashkenazim, and the same strict rules applied to everyone (...)

But the sense of difference continues to accompany me. Even from a distance of more than five decades, I find it hard to characterize it: personal differences? Social differences? the conflict of being absorbed and/or integrated ? Is the new organ successfully implant, am I israeli now? It stands out in everyday things. For example, when my mother called me from Iraq; Or nutrition classes where you learn how to eat and what to eat, and I'm ashamed to say the word Iraqi Cuba; Or that I was dead scared of being seen eating pita not sandwich. For me, these things were the end of the world. In literature classes I listen to stories of the Baal Shem Tov and Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav, and I learn Bialik as a religious man in all respects. I know by heart all the troubles of Rochelle and Berale and Suraleh, and somehow begins to invent a new biography in order please people around me, in order to fit. In my house they listen to eastern music, I feel that I am ashamed of it. I so do not want to associate that with me I want to be like everyone else, before I even becomes Cantor Rabbi of the class. I control my tunes and flavors, and really believe that the landscape of Ukraine are my past, and the snows of yesteryear are part of my childhood, and I lived in the past in a shtetl.

But at the end of a school day when I get home, I can not ignore the conflict, and when I look at the other kids, they seem to live without conflict.