I was not equipped to jump into the deep water, I could not swim. I could not judge the currents. I was unaware of the turmoil or the dry statistic that every third couple in the Western world is drowning. I had no idea what was going to happen. But an internal clock ticked, announcing that the time had come. After all, everyone did it!

So it was, when I casually suggested to her, near the Amiad junction on the way to Mount Hermon: "Maybe we should get married?"

That same year, I starred in the written press. I even got a daily spot to produce and host on the Galei Tzahal IDF radio station. And, as if that wasn’t enough, while sitting at the news desk, I got a phone call from a secret source. The voice on the other end of the line sounded familiar. My body tensed.  "Have you decided where you will spend your honeymoon?" "We," I replied, emphasizing my partner's future weight, "intend to vacation with horror relatives on the island of Yukada in Turkey."
"And what about a honeymoon in Egypt?"

"Have you decided where to spend your honeymoon?"

"We," I replied, emphasizing the weight of my future partner, "intend to vacation with her mother’s relatives on the island of Buyukada, in Turkey."

"And what do you think about a honeymoon in Egypt?"

I thought he was joking, but his countenance remained serious. Before my eyes, I saw the menacing metal teeth of the Russian giant in the movie "The Spy Who Loved Me," chasing through the antiquities of Luxor after Bond. James Bond.

I interrupted the film I was imagining, when Yoel explained: "We want you to contact some colleagues from the Soviet press. And," he considered his words for a moment, and continued, "your biological father lives in Lithuania, if I am not mistaken." He watched me as if expecting me to confirm his words. But the truth was that I did not know, I had no contact with him since I was born.