1988-1989 Rothberg Yearbook

A Semester in the Life...
As the Aussie "convict” mob sauntered wearily off the airport mini-bus, they weren't prepared to
be stifled by the "David Niven", very cultured British lads and lasses. Little were Aussies to discover
that the Brits were actually a bunch of closet meat-head, beer swilling, cavern obsessed alcoholics
and sex fiends. This was only the beginning of what proved to be a very happy association
Yoel, our director, G-d and F-letter perpetrator carefully defined our status at our first BASP
meeting — we were a special group of hand picked individuals, in contrast to the past groups, who had
given BASP such a horrid reputation. Yoel had difficulties competing with Pete, Marc, and Simon's
(Goldstars in hand) raucous laughter. I don't know about the hand-picked bit, but we were definitely
individuals. Ask Sara Anton, whose phobia about her eyeballs popping out and being stepped on has
made her subject to extensive group counselling. Pete, "Alio, Darling, I'm a homosexual" Clements
was completely unaware of the potency of his utterance when interjecting in Tali’s self-description —
Pete to Tali — (interrupts) "You are gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous". We all thought Tali was
completely unimpressed, as indicated by several shades of red Little were we to know that the direct
approach would lead to infatuation.
Brits and Aussies mixed, friends were made, romances blossomed (Lisa and Simon had achieved a
head start by taking advantage of the flight to Israel), and roommates thrown together to discover each
others filthy and intensely annoying habits, characteristic smells, etc. Habits ranged from blowing
one's nose into ones extended y-fronts, farting, burping, accumulating vast quantities of rubbish,
terrorising each other, and feeling the crazed impulse to plaster ones walls in Goldstar bottletops and
Camel cigarette packets.
I wonder if our parents know what we’re doing here. Proudly, I can state that we adhered strictly to
our contract. To "gambling, drunkenness, and the use by anyone of every illegal drug is strictly
forbidden in the rooms or dormitory grounds." This is testified to by poker evenings (Tuesday nights)
and Simon (where's the Vaseline) Usikin’s mysterious fainting spell one particular "sick" evening.
Rumour has it that he was suffering from "gastro-entoritis" and is said to have undergone a liver
transplant at Hadassah Hospital. Another gambling performance was made at the infamous Cavern,
where "rubber-guts" Oppenheim broke the world record for downing, then upping, a pint of beer. Will
Tony Grunfeld ever forget the beach party, or will he ever remember it? Also, it is rumoured that
Grynberg is opening a bar and a la carte restaurant with Elliot. We certainly know why we're here — to
have a good time and, hopefully, acquire some wisdom and knowledge along the way. Unfortunately,
most BASP students suffer from a perpetual identity crisis. Unfortunately, no one knows who we are,
besides Yoel, who wishes he didn't know who we are.
A typical scenario:
Librarian — What programme are you on?
BASP student — BASP
Librarian — What? Mechina? OYP? 4YP?
BASP student — No... BASP (emphatically).
Librarian looks quizzical and eventually concedes to write down "BASP"
Certain prominent people on campus deserve a special mention. Andy, a great guy, who constantly
has exams and an elusive wife. We're slowly trying to council him through his difficulties. Andy is
usually good to go to with problems, especially when he innately responds "F---off, I've had 10 exams
today."
Some lecturers w ill remain with us forever. Lily Pollack, Israel's South African import, is also
known as the Voice of Israel. Shrieks of Zionism at 8:15 in the a.m. are poor elixirs for "sick" Monday
night Cavern hangovers — BASP students nauseously clutch their throbbing heads in one hand, and
cups of coffee in the other. Mr. "the diagram is wrong" Sapir is our intrepid Historical Geographer.
We're finding finding the course really difficult. Apparently, next week the course is being terminated.
Mordechai understated Middle East Nisan — what can I say?
The odd dose of illness, sickness, disease, are all synonymous with living under each others asses.
The chicken pox epidemic is soon to lead to the establishment of a BASP leper colony, kindly founded
by Justin Donn, Katy Filer, and Mark Jutsen.
Luckily, BASP students can escape the campus to the "Hyatt". What would we do without that
revered edifice? Ourv last bastion — of luxury. BASP specimens can regularly be seen hanging around
in sportsjackets or swimming costumes in this now familiar environment. Synonymous with this are
visiting parents which, in turn, is synonymous with a good feed.
BASP students are soon to change their names to "the jet-set". Hello Egypt, Greece, and Turkey.
Hello mum and dad in England, we couldn't stay away from you a whole 5 months. Wait, I'm sure
Mandy's still on the plane to Australia, she left a week ago. Was it a boy or a girl? From the regular
pilgrimage to Dahab, many of us have learnt the meaning of pissing out of our asses. Now, the Brits
have found their pigments to proudly display at home.
Yes, when we head for our respective homelands, how will we ever forget the loud, impatient
American family in the Post Office, the extremely cute little red-headed counter woman at the
supermarket, schnitzel and pasta 7 times a week, Olivia nakedly exposing herself to Justin's parents,
love triangles, shabbat meals at the Kotel, French boyfriends, scares of being kicked off the course, and
the Cavern.
If not next year in Jerusalem, then I'll see you soon in Sydney, Melbourne, London, or Manchester.
Mark Jutsen
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