As I sit here looking out of my freshly polished windows over the gleaming ocean and white sands of Tel Aviv, I think about my colleagues back in rainy Manchester, London and Leeds. I think about cramming on to the Underground in the cold every morning with thousands of others trying not to get caught reading your neighbors newspaper or hoping that you won’t catch your third head-cold this winter from the young teenager in his suit that’s obviously too large for him and can’t stop sneezing into his pink acrylic handkerchief.

My 15 minutes walk to work consists of walking past the local fruit and vegetable market in my suit with my briefcase, where I try to pick some fresh apples for the office and then past the Bank where the security guard always calls out; “Good morning Daliah”, and then continuing on into my building where the doorman doesn’t bother checking my bag any longer - its probably because he is too busy smoking his cigarettes. He always nods though.

My day skims past and by 13:30 I am ready to go down and grab a “Shawarma” or a fresh kosher chicken-salad. After two years in the building I have selected the tastiest restaurants out of the many food bars based inside my building. Benyamin always gives me a free falafel ball dolloped in fresh techina while I am waiting in the queue, never asks me to pay until the end of the month, and just throws a school notebook at me and tells me to sign it. As I run my own law office I definitely do not have the time to ever sit downstairs, and lunch is always noshed at while returning phone calls or emails to clients, and for two years now Beni has never refrained from asking me, “and will you be dining with us today Daliah?” When I decline the kind offer, he always ends the sentence by saying “this is the best portion I have made all day”. I smile and race back to the calls that I have missed in the 15 minutes having to wait in line.

It’s very hard to respond to the “Israeli” client who expects that as soon as he has paid you a minor deposit, you belong to him. Nevertheless I have discovered that by using my British polite attitude in a stern manner, the unexpecting Israeli client tends to respond positively and slowly in this way you gain their trust and tame them to civilized standards. The larger the client, the less anxious he is. The smaller the client, the more he feels he is your friend and does not hesitate asking you the most impertinent questions, such as if he can have your private mobile number, how old are you and if he can have his case finished by the end of the week.

My day ends when I cannot physically look at the computer any longer or if on the other hand I may have a random prior engagement. Recently I took up tennis lessons, and seeing as though the courts are a 10 minute drive from the office, I jump into a cab and by 21:00 am able to vent the efforts of my day into a firm bank hand.  

Due to the fact that dinner for two can easily be wrapped up at just under ₤10, my husband and I find ourselves eating out a few nights a week, or inviting friends in order to show off the culinary skills that I try to pick up from Jamie Oliver on BBC Prime.

Due to the fact that I return to the UK very often, I regularly ponder over whether life for us there would be safer, more prosperous or even more appealing. I have come to the conclusion that life in Israel is “real”. Life here opens your eyes. Your day may be a struggle, your career might be tougher to achieve, the language difference may interfere an you will certainly feel you are sacrificing certain elements of your comfortable life, but when all's said and done you only live your life once and the strength you are compelled to gather will only make you stronger. As Nietzsche said,” He who has a 'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'."

Daliah Sklar-Avnieli, Attorney (Tel Aviv)

Email: daliah@drsi-law.com
Website: www.drsi-law.com