The Curious Story of Noga and the American Colony

Tucked between Jaffa and Florentine is a relatively unknown little neighbourhood called “Noga”, (originally the Noga Compound). It sits on the east side of Jerusalem Blvd, and south of Neve Tzedek.

Jerusalem Blvd itself was built in 1915 as a vanity project by Hassan Bek, known as the “Tyrant of Jaffa”, who was reputedly envious of the impressive Rothschild Blvd being constructed in the new city of Tel Aviv. After he extracted hefty taxes from the local populace, not to mention forced labour from his unfortunate Jaffa residents, he did get his own boulevard, which he firmly expected would be the pre-eminent roadway in the region. The fact that the road went nowhere  in particular, except to some orchards further south did not seem to trouble him.  It now goes to Bat Yam, a much more useful destination, but it never did become as beautiful as Rothschild, as can be seen from the two pictures that follow.

“Dizengoff and Me” on Rothschild Blvd’s wide median.  Note the lovely Royal Poinciana tree in the background.
Jerusalem Blvd. 

And it was not originally called Jerusalem Blvd either; it was named Djamal Pasha Blvd after the Turkish Supreme Commander.  This name did not last long, since the Ottomans unwisely backed the Germans in World War 1, and were expelled by the British towards the end of the war.  In 2018 the British took control of the region and  renamed the street, not surprisingly, King George Blvd.  In due course, after Independence, it was renamed Jerusalem Blvd.  As a result, the main street in Jaffa is now “Jerusalem Blvd”, a nice counterpoint to the fact that the main street in Jerusalem is “Jaffa Road”.

During the Mandate, the British set up their headquarters in the “Noga Compound”, which became an area of workshops, garages, and army administration buildings, a real mishmash of architectural styles.  Sometimes you can see, in a single structure, the three different styles of building that dominate the area: Ottoman on the main floor, eclectic on the second and modern or Bauhaus on the third. (They built “up”, without much concern for architectural harmony.)  After the British left, the neighbourhood was neglected and fell into disrepair, leaving it a perfect place for young artists and students, ever in search of cheap housing and studios, to remake into the trendy, artsy neighbourhood of today. Its many new shops and art galleries, can still be found cheek to jowl with old car repair shops and other dilapidated buildings…so it is not fully gentrified…yet. It is not cheap anymore either, but that is another story.

Just up the hill from the shops and galleries, is an odd little neighbourhood with narrow little car-free streets and old wooden houses that have a real New England look to them: very unlike anything else in Tel Aviv, or the rest of Israel for that matter.  It is a tiny little area, but packed with history, of the relatively recent and peculiar sort, that is often found in Israel.

Its story began in Maine  152 years ago in 1866 (yes, there is a good reason for the New England look). There, a charismatic former actor turned “priest”, by the name of George Adams, established his own church and persuaded 157 of its members to follow him to the Holy Land (in Ottoman Jaffa!).  Here, they were promised they would find Paradise, the land of milk and honey, and moreover, could settle in and wait for the Second Coming. They bought land, packed up a ship with tools and their own prefabricated wooden houses, and set sail. It was a difficult 42 day journey.

When they arrived, the Ottoman officials did not exactly greet them with open arms, and would not let them settle on the land they had purchased.  They were directed to put up tents on a beach, which unbeknownst to them had been a burial ground for cholera victims! This was a very bad beginning; several people died right away.  Later, they did move to the land they had selected, where they built their houses in classic new England style. It did not take them long to learn, to their dismay, that wooden houses are far too warm for a Mediterranean climate, that their tools were not suited to the cultivation of local products, and that George Adams was a thief, a liar, and a drunkard, who had taken all their money.  Two years later, the sad remnants of this little group made their way back to Maine, leaving their wooden houses and their dreams behind them.

The Maine Friendship House built by the settlers. It is occasionally open to the public.

Shortly afterwards,  in 1868, messianic German Christians known as the Templers arrived, took over the little wooden homes, built a handsome church, and settled down, also in preparation for the Second Coming.  In fact, their whole purpose in moving to Israel was the  belief was that their very presence would help to hasten that event. They were much better prepared than their American counterparts, and in the end established eight German Colonies throughout Israel. They were accomplished farmers and industrialists, and their experience with creating farmland out of the swampy, malaria infested countryside was very helpful to the first wave of Jewish settlers who arrived in 1882-1903.  The Templers remained German citizens however, and fought on the German side in both wars.  This led to their deportation by the British in the 1940s.

The Templer Church

One of the more eccentric individuals to move into the Templer community was a Russian exile, Baron Plato von Ustinov, who arrived in 1878.  (With a name like Plato, he was bound to be an unusual character!) He converted a Templer building into a palace and then into a hotel, which once hosted Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany, who stayed there on his way to Jerusalem. He also built a tropical garden, complete with free-roaming monkeys and parrots. I am not sure how the sedate Templers felt about this, but a number of the Jewish artists and writers in neighbouring Neve Tzedek quite enjoyed the garden and its odd residents. All that is left of the garden today is an impressive Bengali Ficus tree. Ustinov eventually married a Jewish woman and his grandson went on to become the well-known actor, Peter Ustinov.

The Bengali Ficus planted by Baron Ustinov

The building below is the old  Ustinov palace, and the blue plaque nicely illustrates the changes that took place in this little corner of Tel Aviv/Jaffa. Since I had not yet mastered the zoom feature of my phone camera, the text is unclear, so I have listed the plaque’s contents below the photo.

The plaque reads as follows: American Colony,  1866.  German Colony, 1868. Baron Ustinov’s palace, 1878.  Hotel du Parc, 1895.  English High School, 1926.  British Palestine Police, 1934.  Israel Defense Force, 1948.  Bed and Breakfast,  1970.  (Although the plaque does not mention it, it appears from the sign over the door that it might also have been a French travel agency at one time.)

The neighbourhood is now a charming residential area, albeit much under construction, and with the advent of air conditioning, wooden houses are no longer quite such a liability.  A new community known as “The Village” has been designed in the old colonial style around a lovely central piazza, featuring one of the original restored buildings. It is a fitting tribute to the short-lived American Colony, and wholly unique in Israel.

You don’t see this every day in Tel Aviv

Just like the rest of Tel Aviv, Noga has no shortage of cafes and restaurants. We tried Par Derriere, an attractive and airy deli/wine bar,  with a charming interior featuring lots of distressed wood and brick. In the front, there is a store where you can buy pickles, meats, cheeses  and wine (of course),  or sit at a long well-stocked bar (naturally), or entertain yourself playing pool.  In behind, (“par derriere”), there is a network of several  casual patios, some covered, some not…each one with its own bar…because you just can’t have too many of those. We had only to look at the place to imagine the party that no doubt unfolds here every night. We had lunch outside, and enjoyed the best sandwich (without question!) that we had in all our stay…brie, homemade onion jam, and arugula…all on a crisp half baguette. The combination was magical.  If I were doing it again I’d add a glass of chilled rose.

Par Derriere, by day, where we spent a lovely hour or so.  Just opposite our table,  a Frenchwoman  of a certain age spent the entire time we were there on her phone, dog at her feet…conducting business in both Hebrew and French, pausing occasionally for a puff of her cigarette or  a sip of coffee.  Or to give a quick kiss to her younger boyfriend who was on his way out.  Just like Paris…except for the Hebrew.
Par Derriere, by night. (From their website)…As you can see, we would not 100% fit in.

This little neighbourhood, mostly overlooked by tourists, is well worth a visit and can easily be tacked on to a tour of Jaffa or Florentine.

 

 

 

 

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