When I came to Israel, my first sensation was the blue sky. I never saw a sky as blue as that. Then, I didn’t see many rivers, which surprised me again. I didn’t see many forests. But on the other hand, all the writings, whether in the streets or in the paper, was in the Hebrew language. That was like entering — again — a new world. I saw Israeli policemen. And we came. My father, who emigrated before us a couple of years to prepare our coming, was living in Tel Aviv. Tel Aviv was totally white and summery and lovely. They called at that time, “Tel Aviv is a small Paris.” I have never been to Paris, so I was sure that Paris is even smaller than Tel Aviv. And when I got bar mitzvah’d — 13 years old — my parents bought me a bicycle, and I would — touring the streets of Tel Aviv to see if they were building a building, if they planted a new tree. I felt as though it would be my estate, as though it would be my life.