Molly and Lana arranged a great trip to a Kibbutz through the Reform movement, arranged by the rabbinical students at Hebrew Union College. We departed from the college and met the Rabbi accompanying us, known as "Gingey" for his flaming red hair. He was truly a welcoming and wonderful soul, and if he weren't living in Israel, I would convert to Judaism in the hopes of being in his congregation.
We drove about 4 hours to Kibbutz Yael in the Negev, stopping along the way to dip our feet in the Dead Sea and to get ice cream at Kilometer 101.
Kibbutz Yael is like an oasis, sprouting up in the middle of the desert with the Red mountains as a dramatic background. The first thing we did was to tour the crops of the kibbutz, which actually were located on Jordanian land, but settled in the 1994 Camp David Accords. The pomello groves lies directly next to the boder, with only a barbed wire fence separating the desert belonging to Israel from that of Jordan. A kibbutznik who had been there since the beginning- 1977- explained to us about this very strange fruit the pomello, whih has failed to catch on in the U.S. due to its inconvenient size and packaging. He told us an amazing story.
Alongside the fence marking the border are the roads used by the IDF and Jordnaian forces to patrol the border. One day, the kibbutznik drove out to the groves to find IDF forces congregated in deep discussion. They informed him there were troubling footprints leading from the Jordanian side into the groves, around the trees and back out again. The kibbutznik was not surprised- the soldiers wanted some pomello, and he was pleased to allow them to have it. However, to protect everyone involved, the kibbutznik putout a box the very next day full of pomello. A sign attached informed both groups of soldiers, in Hebrew and in Arabic, that the fruit was for their consumption. He began re-filling it almost daily. Months passed, and once again, driving out to the groves he noticed something strange; a white mercedes swiftly approaching through the desert from the Jordanian side. A well-dressed man got out and addressed the kibbutznik in Hebrew, introducing himself and the mayor of the nearest Jordanian town. He thanked our hero for providing the fruit to his soldiers and asked to meet he and his family the next day for lunch. The families met, the wives talked and the fathers played with one anothers children as they would their own. Further proof of what I have believed, but has been so tested here 1.) Most people want peace 2.) Everyone can connect on a basic level 3.) It only takes a small act of kindness to get a huge response. Apparently, I should add to that "everyone likes pomello", because they do. We were allowed to climb the trees in search of our own pomello, which i gleefully brought home to share. Peace through Pomellos.
We stayed in adorable guest houses with bunk beds and enjoyed a Shabbat services in the Bet Knesset on the kibbutz, and a decent Shabbat dinner in the communal dining room. We changed from Shabbat clothes to sweats in order to sit before a campfire in the desert, but the stars were obstructed by some clouds. After some stories, Molly, Lana, and I grabbed some beers at the kibbutz pub, and then I headed to bed early.
Saturday, after a traditional Israeli breakfast, we had services and some religious discussion, which was interesting. We also headed out to see another commodity of the kibbutz- Dairy cows and some sheep. We had the fortunate (or unfortunate) luck to see a lamb born, it being the season for such things. This new sheep also took his first steps to our applause, which scared him sufficiently to cut those first steps short. Gingey, who got a degree in Agriculture and lactation before getting his rabbincal education (?) also led a tour of the milking facilities. Israel has very advanced agricultural technology.
I love the idea of the kibbutzim and would definitely work on one as a volunteer for a time, maybe if i can't join the Obama campaign...
My Mom and Dad would love to live on a kibbutz- my Dad because he loves Marxism and my Mom because she loves flowers and quaint houses.
The visit was such a nice break from the city; especially the tension, the mistaken identities, the explaining, the cats, and the incessant talk. It gave me hope to keep believing in the things I came here believing (the best things, at least, the things that should not change). The people we met and the successes they have had there were really inspiring. I can only imagine how beautiful it is to be that kibbutznik, to have made something out of nothing in 1977, that in 2007 is flourishing as its very own little society.
1 comment:
What about when you saw that wild goat?
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