views from the galilee

Street Cat

"On Saturday afternoon I rode my bike along the Herzliya beach, with my dog running beside me," said Danny Hakim. "When we got to the Sidnah Ali mosque, my dog was suddenly surrounded by a pack of street cats.  He went for the smallest cat and bit it on the chest.  I quickly got off my bike to see if I could help the luckless creature.  While I was busy examining the cat and slowly realizing that its minutes were numbered, the custodian of the mosque suddenly appeared next to me.  It turns out he had witnessed the entire unfortunate incident from the roof of the mosque.

"'It's your fault!' he cried, 'You must pay!'  His wife followed him out, screaming and yelling, 'The poor cat!  Our poor cat!'  I was amazed at the excessive sense of sentiment towards what had, after all, until a few moments earlier been simply an abandoned street cat, one of many... "

Danny Hakim took a deep breath, smiled apologetically, and continued his story.  "I told the angry couple that I was sorry and I apologized.  I asked them what they wanted me to do.  The mosque custodian declared that first we must bury the cat.  We took spades and buried him, digging energetically side by side.  It was a bizarre sight: a Jew and a Muslim burying a street cat one afternoon on the beach of Herzliya. When we had finished burying the cat, I asked him what else he would like me to do.  'You must now pay for the cat that your dog murdered!'

"I explained that it was Shabbat," continued Danny, "and on Shabbat I don't carry money.  I told him that I would return the next day and bring him the money."  The custodian refused.  "If you can't pay immediately, then leave your dog with us as a guarantee that you will return with the money!"  Danny refused to leave his dog, and repeated his promise to return.  "I deliberately kept my bike helmet on, in case of trouble... "  I should mention that Danny Hakim is a karate master (a 6th Dan black belt, world championship silver medalist) and is also someone who works to promote peace.  He is the founder and chair of Budo For Peace, an organization that creates bridges between Jewish and Arab youth via martial arts training.

My friend Danny Hakim told the story of the street cat during an evening of job interviews for a new manager of Budu For Peace.  When he reached this point in the story he tossed the conversational ball to the interviewee and asked him, "What would you have done at that point?"  The interviewee kept his composure, thought for a moment, then answered, "I would have gone the next day to a pet store to ask how much a top-quality cat would cost, photograph the price with my mobile phone, and go back to the mosque and pay the custodian double the price of the cat in the store... "

Everyone in the room turned to Danny.  "So what did you do in the end?"  Danny said he still hadn't done anything.  He intended to get advice from a few more friends and then decide.
A week later Danny told me how the story continued.

"I asked for advice from three Arab karate trainers that I know.  I asked a Jordanian trainer and two Israeli Arab trainers: one a Bedouin man, and the other a devoutly religious Muslim woman.  The Israelis didn't think it was a big deal and advised me to pay the custodian a small sum and then forget about it.  The Jordanian advised me to buy a new cat for him."

"When I came home from my short trip to Jordan, I went back to the mosque with an envelope containing a 50 shekel note in my pocket.  I wanted to see how the custodian would react when he opened the envelope and saw the amount of compensation.  At the steps of the mosque I was spotted by a giant of a man who resembled a sumo wrestler.  He asked me what I wanted.  I asked to see the custodian.  He called out to the custodian in a thin soprano voice that was in surprising contrast with his huge size, and his call disturbed the scores of cats that ran around the mosque.

"The custodian appeared and he recognized me immediately.  He invited me in and asked me to join him on the patio, while introducing me to the mother of the dead cat.  His wife came into the room, looking as if she was still mourning her loss.  He sent her to bring refreshments.  It was a bright day and the air was clear and cool on the beach of Herzliya.  We both sat and drank bitter coffee from small cups, enjoying the view and the weather.  My host slowly opened up and told me about his life and his family.  He has lived at the mosque for 25 years, and has 8 children and 13 grandchildren.

"Now I broached my reason for coming.  Despite the mild weather and the pleasant atmosphere in the room, I preferred to complete my business before the sumo wrestler returned.  I told the custodian about the advice I had received from my friends.  I said that as a goodwill gesture I had brought with me a compensation payment for the dead cat, and I handed over the envelope with the cash.

"The custodian opened the envelope, looked at the money, and said that he didn't expect a monetary payment, because no amount of money could bring the cat back to life... and in the same breath he asked me if I wanted to donate the money to the mosque.  I told him it was his decision.  We sat for a while and drank more coffee, a kind of meditation in honor of our new friendship, discussed our joint hopes for life in Israel, and then parted as friends."

Danny ended his story of the street cat with a deep breath. "Danny," I said, "what lessons do you take from this story?  How does it relate to the reality of our life here?"

"Oho..." responded Danny with his Australian-Japanese accent.   "There are several lessons!  But the central lesson is the one of taking a conflict and turning it into an opportunity.  He is a devout Muslim and I am a believing Jew.  He lives in a mosque on the beach of Herzliya and I live in Herzliya Pituah. The conditions for conflict are ripe and present in the differences of background, language and religion, even before the sad incident with the cat."

"I could have ignored the conflict between us after the bloody meeting between my dog and his street cat. I didn't have to go back to the mosque.  I could have forgotten the entire thing and never seen him again.  That's what most of my Arab friends advised me to do.  But despite that I chose to turn the negative meeting into an opportunity to create something positive, to break down stereotypes, to build trust and mutual respect.  I chose to confront the conflict face to face, to try to replace it with understanding and harmony."

"I also had to deal with my own fear," acknowledged Danny.  "I had butterflies in my stomach when I went back to the mosque with the money in my pocket.  I didn't know what kind of reception I would receive.  It would have been easier to listen to the fear that told me to keep away from that threatening, angry place, not to return to the scene of the incident.  But instead of giving in to the fear I chose to overcome it."

"And so," concluded Danny Hakim, "after we sat and finished our coffee together, the custodian and I, in his home, and I had apologized and accepted responsibility for the incident and shown willingness to pay compensation, we showed each other basic respect and also opened up our hearts to each other a little and got to know each other personally as human beings... that was when the dead cat become part of the past and instead our joint future became the central topic... "

Any possible connection between Danny Hakim's story and the various religious, national and sectarian conflicts in our stormy neighborhood and the possible courses of action available to us--will be the sole responsibility of the reader to determine.

Sagi Melamed lives with his family in the community of Hoshaya in the Galilee.  He serves as Vice President of External Affairs at the Max Stern Yezreel Valley College, and as Chief Instructor (4thDan) of the Hoshaya Karate Club.  Sagi received his Masters degree from Harvard University in Middle Eastern Studies with a specialty in Conflict Resolution. His first book will be released this spring. He can be contacted at: melamed.sagi@gmail.com.
February 2012