For All Those Reasons
People ask: why did we move to Yeroham, an unremarkable desert town far from Jerusalem and Tel Aviv? We have no beaches; only sand. We have no culture, just a lot of Moroccan extended families drumming on taraboukas. We don’t even have a yeshiva, only a couple of broke kollels.
Reason number one: My husband is the only one here whose name is Yerucham.
Reason 2: My daughters married Moroccan men; to get ready, they had to grow up with Moroccan girls in a Moroccan school. Obviously.
Reason 3: We needed a place that accepted haredi wannabees, kids who refused to wear socks, and teenagers who did whatever they damm wanted, since the other places kicked us out for all those reasons.
Reason 4: We needed a cheap rent--our investments in the other places disappeared when the committee kicked us out.
So naturally, Yeroham is the perfect home for all of us. Well, almost: Meanwhile the kids grew up, and only one of our married kids lives here. The others moved to Jerusalem, Kiryat Sefer, Beersheva, Spring Valley, and, well, I’m not sure: could be Goa or Paris.