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Photo: CD Bank
'Both times we danced together for three and a half hours.' (archive photo)
Photo: CD Bank

The diaper scene

Say goodbye to magicians, clowns and party bags - the latest hit amongst preschoolers: Trance parties at Tel Aviv nightclubs together with their parents - The kids get buzzed on a slushy at the bar, the parents flirt and together they hit the dance floor

“I want to be like big people,” announced six-year-old Omri, resting at the bar of the Laser Club in Tel Aviv. “Adults go to dance at nightclubs and now I do, too. It's great - instead of dancing to (silly children's songs) we dance to real music,” he said as he swallowed the rest of an ice slushy.

 

A few moments later, his mother dragged him onto the dance floor where they danced like there was no school tomorrow. After an hour he broke away again towards the bar leaving his mother jumping on her own. “Isn’t she the best dancer in the whole world?” he asked with unabashed pride.

 

At four in the afternoon, just before Shabbat ends, children and parents begin to arrive at the club on HaMasger street in Tel Aviv. For NIS 20 (USD 4.35) per adult and NIS 30 (USD 6.50) per child (including a slushy and a glow-in-the-dark bracelet,) parents and children get the chance to boogie until eight o’clock. The party, run by a “Yeladisko”, or children's disco, includes two performers to show the new recruits how to get down. Entrance to children over age 10 is forbidden.

 

The youngsters did not know what to expect. The sight of a security guard wearing make-up made some of them clutch their parent’s legs even tighter.

 

Inside they were hit with near-total darkness interrupted by sudden bursts of sparkling lights and music that was as far away from the traditional birthday party as you can get. Parents sprinted towards the dance floor as if they had been waiting for this all weekend. Some children got into the groove right away, others needed a bit of time and some little ones, aged three to four, cried and begged for home.

 

No more Power Rangers

 

The founder of the preschool scene is Lilach Ofek Achai from Tel Aviv, 32, married with two children.

 

“Last summer I went to a wedding and bar mitzvah with my five-and-a-half-year-old son, Yotam," she said. "Both times we danced together for three and a half hours. Yotam is a stubborn kid, he's not interested in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Power Rangers. I never imagined that he would lead the dances with his mother. Our interaction really moved me. He was like a person that had undergone a liberating experience. He couldn’t stop talking about it.”

 

On the dance floor the rug rats are going wild to the sounds of Speedy Gonzales, and Ofek Achai signals to Yotam that she is will join him in a minute.

 

“I said to myself,” she continues, “instead of being upset that we don’t have any weddings coming up, I will to take the initiative and create a place where parents like me can dance with our children. The parents will experience a different kind of quality time with their children and the children will get to dance in a genuine nightclub. From the moment I began discussing this, parents got excited and I decided to go for it.”

 

What does Yotam think about all this?

 

“He was very excited. He became a partner in the planning and decided, for example, what flavor the slushies should be. When the first party was over, he asked when we will do the next party. I knew then that I got it right.”

 

On the dance floor, some 30 parents and children move to the sounds of “Adon Shoko” (“Mr. Chocolate”) by Arik Einstein, various hits by Roni Superstar and “Ani Frecha” (I’m a Bimbo”) by Ofra Haza. The adults sing along, the kids rock-and-roll, but one four-year-old girl cries bitterly that she wants to go home.

 

Her mother explains that the noise scares her and the lights hurt her eyes. Attempts to convince her otherwise are futile and the girl, who has been dressed in her party clothes since noon, drags her mother home.

 

Ulterior motives for some parents

 

Not surprisingly, most of the dancers are mothers. The few fathers attending the event watch from the side, one or two are moving without much enthusiasm as a favor to their children.

 

“Seems that anything to do with children’s activities still, automatically, falls on the mother. I have to think of a way to make the fathers active as well,” mumbles Achai.

 

There is, however, another aspect to the parties where fathers, specifically, have been more active.

 

“A covert dating service has been created for divorced parents that came with their children and found each other. Two couples have gotten together,” says one parent.

 

Amongst the children, however, no hot romances have been reported and no numbers have been exchanged at the bar.

 

“Apparently children have a problem when their parents are around,” observes Achai. “Everything here is focused on strengthening the family bond. That's why the age limit of the children is 10. Older children are too embarrassed to dance with their parents.”

 

The music is mainly of Israeli hip-hop and trance, just like a regular nightclub.

 

“Before I was a mother,” says Achai, “I worked in a preschool for three years and noticed that children connect incredibly to non-children's music. I consulted with preschool teachers and put together a list of rhythmic songs. It turns out that children really connect to trance music. I instructed the DJ to play only happy music and not anything sad or heavy.”

 

What about mizrachi (Middle Eastern) music?

 

“Not so much. Not for any specific reason, its just a matter of taste. I haven’t put a complete veto on it, we play a lot of Sarit Hadad songs that the children love.”

 

In the meantime, five-year-old Shiri has taken over the dance floor, her hands over her ears in an attempt to dull the pain of the loud music. She stares in amazement at her mother who is dancing in jeans and a tank top and looks more like a young girl at a wild party.

 

The preschooler is trying to get her attention, but her mother is completely entranced. After a few long moments, her mother notices her daughter, picks her up and the two begin to go wild.

 

A few drinks with the kids

 

Goni Tamir, six-years-old, danced for about an hour until he couldn’t take the volume any longer. His father took him home and his mother, Sivan, stayed with Noi, his twin sister, who didn’t mind the driving bass booming in her ears.

 

“At the last party they both danced and had a great time, and today, for some reason, Goni doesn’t feel like it. I like the parties, it's a good idea. We only get to dance with our children in preschool. Here it’s the real thing, it’s not childish. I dance here the same way I dance without the children, I drink a little, get into the mood. The truth, what’s wrong with starting the week this way?”

 

Isn’t it too young to start the whole club scene at age six?

 

“Not at all. What’s wrong with dancing with your mother? What’s wrong with trance music? If its fun for parents then it’s also fun for their children.”

 


פרסום ראשון: 12.19.05, 01:02
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