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Chaverim Boys Choir Live!
Jewish boys & girls will love this brand-new Jewish kids book series, Chaverim Boys Choir, as they step backstage & get the inside scoop on the fun & excitement of 25 boys as they tour, perform & have a blast!
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Meet the Chaverim Boys Choir in The Annual Israel Concert Tour
Tzvi Farkash shook the snow from his boots and hung up his coat on the sagging rack. He joined the group of boys standing around the studio, waiting for rehearsal to begin.
“Brrr, it’s cold out there,” he said.
The other boys nodded in agreement. It was a cold night. But inside the studio it was warm, and there was no other place the boys would rather be.
Daniel Hertz, the choir head, was sitting at his desk in the corner looking over some papers. He was very punctual and always started practice promptly at 6:30. There was an air of excitement in the room. In less than a week, the choir would be taking their annual trip to Israel. They were booked to perform almost every night all over the country. CDs of their performances would be recorded and sold worldwide. This was the last rehearsal before the tour.
At 6:30 sharp, Daniel stood up and clapped his hands together in his classic “quiet” signal. “Okay, boys!” His face broke into a wide grin. “You know the dances and songs perfectly, right?”
Tzvi’s loud “Yes!” joined the others.
“And you know how we come in, go out, jump, sing, dance, and bow at the end?”
“Yes!” they all shouted again.
“Good! Then I think we’re ready.”
Daniel was what Tzvi’s mother called “a real professional.” He settled for nothing less than perfection.
But he chose the boys carefully, and he tirelessly and patiently worked with them for many long hours and weeks. He was very proud of his boys, and they knew it. They gave him their best in return, and all in all the Chaverim Boys and their choir head made a great team.
“Okay, then, now for some technical details. Don’t worry if you forget anything — it will all be on the handout I’m giving you tonight. Now what day are we leaving?”
“Thursday!” everyone yelled in unison.
“What time?”
“Nine o’clock in the morning!” the chorus came again.
“That’s right — and don’t be late. We have a plane to catch. Where will we meet?”
“Here!”
“Good. Now listed here” — Daniel held up a sheet of paper — “is everything you need to bring (don’t forget your toothpaste). There’s also a permission slip for your parents to sign. It says that we’re providing food, we take absolute responsibility over all of you, where and when we’re meeting — which you know already — and when we’re coming home. Eric will hand out the sheets now. Give it to your mother as soon as you get home!”
Daniel handed the papers to Eric Fisher, one of the older boys, to pass out. After they had tucked the handouts in their pockets, Daniel said, “Now, as you know, in Israel we’ll be performing six concerts. We’ll visit the Kosel, of course, and we’ll do a bit of touring. We’ll be taking videos for the DVD in parks and the Old City and at a few tourist attractions, so bring an extra white shirt to wear for the recording. We’ll be staying in hotels — five boys to a room, and we will have a minibus at our disposal. You know your costumes — you’ve tried them on. Which reminds me — the mustard-colored handkerchiefs have been replaced with matching gold ones, baruch Hashem.”
Sighs of relief filled the studio. “Whew!” Shmuel Leib Stern sighed an exaggerated sigh.
“Which costumes do you think were the most popular, ever? From any choir?” Tzvi asked curiously as he thought about the gold handkerchiefs.
Shuey Mendelson didn’t have to think twice. “The Miami Boys’ green ones,” he said firmly. “You know — the ones they wore in ‘We Will Prevail.’ ”
“Those green and white ones?” Baruch Eliyahu Kahn made a face. “No, I think the Shalom Boys had the best ones in their concert ‘Yachad.’ They were cool — all silver and black.”
“I agree,” Dovi Goldstein said. “They were...striking. You can’t deny that.”
“Personally, I liked the Yeshiva Boys’ black and white clothes on the front of their first album,” Shai Lazar said. “They were natural, simple, and neat.”
“Those weren’t costumes!” Yosef Shmueli snorted.
“Each kid just came in his own Shabbos clothes. How boring!”
“In their second album they had better costumes,” Yosef’s big brother, Emanuel, agreed. “Red vests look good.”
“The Miami Boys have also used red,” Dovi pointed out.
“Shira Chadasha has great gold ones, don’t they?” said Lipa Benson, Eric Fisher’s best friend. “I saw them singing with Yaakov Shweky.”
“So did I,” Eric seconded. “But I think our gold ones are much better.”
“Let’s not compare, boys,” Daniel said, putting a stop to the conversation. He cleared his throat and continued where he had left off.
“We’ll be practicing on stage before the concerts, so you can practice with the mikes and lights and get the entrances and exits down. Got it?”
Everyone nodded, looking excited, though some appeared a trifle anxious. Tzvi noticed that Pesach Werner was biting his nails. He tried to ignore the fluttering in his own stomach.
“Okay, that’s it for today. That means that the next time I’ll see you is the day we’re leaving. Don’t forget to eat, sleep, and, of course, to study well in school!”
“Yeah, sure.” Shaul Berkowitz giggled.
“Whoever pays attention in class the week before a concert say ‘Me’!” Shmuel Leib Stern challenged.
The studio was silent. Everyone collapsed into gales of laughter as Daniel, hiding a smile, began shooing everyone out of the room.
Just two more days until their departure time... Let the countdown begin!
“Hey, Tzvi, can’t you take me?” asked five-year-old Dalia. “I bet I could fit in your suitcase.”
“I bet you could,” said Tzvi. “But who would put you to sleep at night if Mommy wasn’t there?”
Dalia’s face fell at the thought of going to sleep without her mother nearby. Tzvi tried not to think of how he would feel when he was 10,000 miles away from his mother in Israel.
“ ’Bye, guys,” he said in a gruff voice. “I’ll take lots of pictures.” He gave his mother a kiss, hugged his father, and pinched Dalia’s cheek. Dalia had been allowed to stay home from school that morning to say goodbye to her big brother. His other sister and his brothers had gone to school and had already said their good-byes.
When Tzvi arrived at the studio, he sat on the floor with the other boys listening to the instructions Daniel was giving.
“The most important thing is: stay with me! Moishy Stein will be joining us again as my assistant on the tour. He’s meeting us at the airport. Okay, now remember: don’t get lost, and completely ignore anyone who may want autographs or other such nonsense! Remember, we are Torah-true Yidden, and we will behave as such and make Hashem proud.” He lifted his wrist to glance at his watch. “The minibus should be here by now to take us to the airport. Let’s go.”
He opened the door, and the boys filed out and boarded the minibus. Tzvi joined the others waving to their parents and siblings from the wide windows. Dalia was waving her doll’s hand. The doll’s little hand was the last thing Tzvi saw before the minibus turned a corner. Daniel stood up and gave the boys a safety pep talk, and then an encouraging pep talk, and then told them to settle down and relax for the short ride.
MP3s and playing cards crept out, and soon the bus was filled with laughter, chatter, and singing — the sound of the Chaverim Boys going on a trip.
Tzvi was sitting behind Daniel. He watched as Daniel took out a small Gemara and learned quietly to himself.
Tzvi looked out the window, and his seatmate, Ari Cohen, challenged him to see how many cars they could count as they drove by. Ari was Tzvi’s best friend. He was the same age as Tzvi — ten — and they both lived in Lakewood and were in the same class at school. Before they knew it, the airport loomed ahead of them.
“Okay, boys, I’m assigning everyone a number,”
Daniel said into the bus’s mike. “You know the procedure. Whenever I call out your number, you raise your hand and call ‘Here!’ We don’t want to lose anyone.” He grinned at them as he proceeded.
Once everyone had an assigned number, Daniel reminded them, “Once again, rule one: stay with me always. Rule two: listen to everything Moishy and I say. Three...have fun!”
Everyone cheered as the minibus screeched to a stop.
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