There was Rashid St. We lived on it. And there were alleys, alleys, alleys. Houses, houses, houses. We lived inside. And our neighbouring house was a synagogue - a Jewish synagogue. There was a Jewish synagogue and Arabs liked us a lot, but there were also Arabs who couldn’t even look at us. We were scared of them. People prayed in it. The Jews would go to the synagogue on Shabbat and holidays. Our neighbours. I was here, it was there. We would go to the synagogue. Yes. We would go. They would read, tell people stories. This one this, this one this. You’re like this. Like here how the rabbi sits and tells stories, there too. It was like that. But there…my dad would pray and would also bring them food to the people sitting in the synagogue. He would bring food to give the children, the old people. All of them. We were good. Yes. One was good, one wasn’t good. They were like this. We would go out a bit, outside, sit outside a bit. We didn’t have a courtyard or anything. We would sit next to the house and Arabs would come and sit next to us. We…they didn’t mix, all of them. Everyone had their own place. We weren’t…one in this place, one in that place. We wouldn’t go there. They would go to work, they had shops, they had everything here. That one had a shop, that one had a shop. They would go to work and the rich would bring things home. They had houses. They wouldn’t take things home. One would have a house on his own. The rich people. But the poor people were alone. Each one was alone. The rich were like that. They had everything. There…they had light. Everything. But not like us. We didn’t have…we didn’t even have gas to work with. That’s how we were. We would pray on the ground and do Shabbat. They would make tbit, put a pot this size on the fire, and that was Friday night and Shabbat. That’s it. But the rich had everything okay. All of them. We are, let’s say in Holon…they lived…in Yafo. That’s how rich people were. They weren’t next to one another.