How do you say goodbye?

Luckily shalom means both hello and goodbye in Hebrew because it’s a week of both departing and returning. Today we discussed the “reverse culture-shock” that comes with going home, and it finally sunk in that this amazing semester is over. I feel so fortunate to have lived and learned here at Kibbutz Lotan, and as I sorted through my several thousand photos from the past four months in preparation for our closing ceremony I hardly recognized myself from August – I am not the same person that I was in August. Packing my suitcase felt almost silly because the few souvenirs I got are not even close to a reflection of the experiences I’ve had, people I’ve met, and knowledge I’ve gained during the program. While for me this is not a goodbye, more a lehitraot (until we meet again) for Israel, since I’ll be coming back in two weeks, the weight of leaving the Kibbutz is overwhelming.

I won’t be able to describe, or even know where to start explaining the realities of the last four months might be the scariest part of this transition. My memories will stay with me forever, but what are memories if you can’t share them? So...now...I go home and people ask, “How was it?” “What was it like?” “What was your favorite part?” Am I supposed to summarize four months of my life in a few sentences? Forty seconds and then the conversation changes direction? Here are a few of my favorite memories:

• At Qasr a Sir, a bedouin community in near Dimona, we stayed up late into the night hearing booms in the distance, cluelessly loading news sites to figure out what is going on even though we are both literally and metaphorically powerless in the electricity-less village considered “open space” by Israel’s Iron Dome defense system.
• Waking up the first morning, after our late night arrival, and exploring the Bustan neighborhood for the first time in the light.
• Buying 10 cucumbers, 6 tomatoes, 2 onions, 4 red peppers and a pomegranate in the Mahane Yehuda Shuk (Jerusalem) for around 20 shekels ($5 US) and making an epic salad in the apartment every single night for two weeks.

The most important thing I learned this semester is to be present. That doesn’t mean to take everything you’re given and accept it; it means to fully experience every moment. Ask questions. Develop an opinion. Challenge yourself. Learn something new. Be spontaneous, reflect on and value every mistake and every success. 

My War

At breakfast today my friend opened the newspaper and saw a picture of someone she knew standing in front of a tank. The sidebar for every page, she could not escape the disturbing image. While I’ve been trying to keep up with the headlines – 3 Killed in Kiryat Malachi, Woman Wounded in Ashkelon, One Third of Palestinian Casualties are Civilians – this is my experience with the war. Here on Kibbutz Lotan, a tiny and distant place that most Israelis have never even heard of, there is no threat of violence; the “floods” yesterday were more dangerous for us than the war, but that does not mean we aren’t experiencing it. My connection to the operation feels like much more than surreal headlines, as I watch my friends get called for reserve duty in the IDF, recognize their friends in the paper, or even wait in anticipation as they dread their call-to-the-army this fall. 

I spent the last week in a Bedouin village (Qsar aSir, near Dimona, was recently recognized, with a population of almost 4,000). When discussing the plight of this minority – a significant portion of the Negev numbering over 200,000 – one man said to me “Being a Bedouin is not a nationality; it is a way of life.” I asked him what this way of life has meant in the past, and what it means today, and he told me that being a Bedouin means not fearing: not fearing to stay on your land, not fearing to defend your family’s right to security, not fearing to stick-it-out until the end. As we heard booms in the distance and read that one might have landed in Dimona (about a 10 minute drive away), I couldn’t help but think how fearless these people are – sticking it out here, without electricity or even a bomb shelter. Unfortunately, their fear is less about war with Hamas and more about their human rights under the Israeli Government. 

As I continue to consider making Aaliyah – moving to Israel at some point in the next year or two and serving in the IDF – my war is the decision. Do I want to commit to and defend a country that is constantly in conflict with its neighbors? Do I want to live in a country where I see human rights, such as those of the Bedouins, being blatantly ignored? How can I face disturbing headlines every day, and worry about my friends across the country? My gut tells me yes, do it, but I don’t want to make ignorant excuses for this country I love so much – I want to have an informed opinion on “self-defense” and “social justice issues” within the country, and work to make it a more peaceful place.

with the Bedouins

One Minute Warning

I heard the sirens as I left the library, thinking I would go find somewhere to get coffee. On the Ben Gurion University campus in Beer Sheva students started moving briskly towards the stairwell down to the safe room – I was alone, so I followed the traffic without question. It wasn’t scary, almost exciting, as we all crammed into a small basement which was occupied by some religious men praying. The students around me didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, and after two minutes they returned to their daily activities... it didn’t even seem as if anyone was talking about what happened. I heard the missile go off in the air as Israel’s Iron Dome defense system prevented it from hitting the city. However, some students on campus didn’t even know anything happened – one even asked me if it was a drill in the library, because she didn’t hear any sirens.

The night before I stayed with a friend in Beer Sheva. Before going to bed she showed me where the safe room in her house is. If the sirens go off it means we have exactly one minute to get to the safe room. Nothing happened that night, but tonight is a whole different story. Things are escalating in Gaza and rockets are going back and forth from both sides. We are no longer in Beer Sheva, and are totally safe here in the Bedouin village, but calling all our friends and updating the Haaretz news site every few minutes to follow what seems to be a serious situation. It feels very real, for the first time, and the complexity of the situation is so frustrating that I feel helpless. A Hamas leader said on television tonight that “tonight a rain of rockets will fall over Beer Sheva.” I don’t feel any danger will come my way during the program – we have even switched our plans for tomorrow to make sure we are extra safe going back to Lotan, but being here and feeling the heaviness that comes with the rockets really makes me feel connected to Israel. We commented this afternoon on how many airplanes were flying so low over where we are... little did we know that many of them were going to Gaza.

Interesting that our month of “social justice” ends with a real escalation. It feels nice to be returning “home” to Kibbutz Lotan tomorrow. I have learned so much this last month, and tonight makes me recognize that while I know SO MUCH more than I knew before (about the situation in Israel), the more I know the more complicated it becomes. 

Hofesh and Return to the "Real World"

After hitting 4 cities in 4 days on our hofesh (break), it is exciting to be able to call Jerusalem “home” tonight as we return to our apartment in Bet Shmuel. Of course stopping for fresh vegetables from the shuk on the way from the Central Bus Station, we cooked a nice dinner and are taking a much needed break from our vacation – we are all very tired. We’ve been going around to visit various friends from the Green Apprenticeship in their homes around Israel. Friday we took a long bus ride up to Metula, then the next day to Haifa, followed by Tel Aviv and Rishon LeZion. It is really interesting to see the reverse culture shock that comes with leaving the program – while we’re still studying with Living Routes, the GA participants are returning to their lives and it seems very scary.

It’s really a wake up call to witness “normal life” after living in the Bustan for 7 weeks. While many of our friends are starting compost piles and backyard gardens, and finding ways to apply the lessons to their daily routines, it seems like everyone is struggling to adjust. We, too, feel guilty when we flush 10 liters of water down the toilet (instead of our compost toilets). It is hard to re-enter the world when you can recognize how much more wasteful you are than you want to be. However, we have been trying our best in the Jerusalem apartment to continue being resourceful and responsible. We’ve produced several huge bags of compostable food scraps, which we bring to the community gardens where we volunteer, and we’ve actually been doing a great job of not cooking too much food. There are so many simple things that make a difference – like bringing your own bag to buy groceries, and using a rag instead of paper towels. Yet, so much needs to be done on a larger scale in order to live sustainably. 

Unfortunately, neither of our candidates propose truly good environmental policies. It’s hard to accept that the better of the two "clean" energy policies involves increasing oil, coal, and natural gas production. I understand the economic benefits of localizing production of these fuels, but looking long term (although, not that long) the environmental impacts of these are in no way a sustainable or practical solution. I support Obama’s current efforts in increasing solar and other renewable energy sources, but it very much disturbs me that "energy" and "environment" are two completely separate issues to his campaign (as separated on this site)... they are completely related, and looking to solve the problems separately will only create deeper negative effects.

Hike on the Banias River while visiting Hilla in Metula

Harvesting Olives with Rabbis for Human Rights in the West Bank

More Gardening in the German Colony in Jerusalem

Community gardening with the "Garin Dvash" in Jerusalem

Freedom Riding and City Gardening

Now that I’ve finished cleaning the kitchen of our awesome Jerusalem apartment I finally have a minute to catch up on blogging. The last week has gone by incredibly fast, yet it also feels like forever since we were at Lotan. I really love the city – we are in an awesome neighborhood, and I really feel like I’m starting to know my way around. We do our grocery shopping in the shuk, where you can negotiate three giant pomegranates down to about six shekels ($1.50 US). There is a great night life on the streets off-shooting Yafo Street, and Beit Shmuel (where we live) is only a ten minute walk from both the Old City and Ben Yehuda Street. We’ve been keeping very busy between various volunteering projects that are taking us all over the city and beyond.

Every day we work in a different community garden, helping however we can. There is a community called the Garin Dvash (honey scouts) that are people around our age who have chosen to live communally, and they work with different neighborhoods to help gardening and ecology grow in the city. The first garden we went to was beautiful, and we met a few of the people who have plots in it while we were there. The next day, however, we had a much different experience. The Garin have a project in a very low income neighborhood, where they have several small plots of land in front of some apartment buildings. The people of the community haven’t stepped up at all in helping with their garden, and in fact they continue to trash the place by throwing their garbage out the windows of their homes (even after two hours of us picking up trash, we didn’t make a dent). It was frustrating because as we picked up garbage, the people watched us almost as though we were intruding – which we were. It felt very uncomfortable to enter someone’s neighborhood and pick up their trash for them, as if we were making a statement that they should try and be more clean like us. The point of the project is to give them land they can take ownership of and take care of, but if they aren’t wanting to get involved even after six months it makes me feel like why should people continue to go there and help them, or pick up their trash. If anything, they want a garden to be gifted to them, without any help from them required, so I didn’t feel the project was all that fair – why should I pick up someone else’s garbage if they aren’t willing to help?

Another project we are working on is very interesting. In Israel, many public city busses are segregated by the Orthodox Jews, who make the women enter from and sit in the back of the bus. A few years ago many laws were passed to forbid this segregation and discrimination, but there have been various levels of implementation on different routes. We are working with the Israel Religious Action Council as “Freedom Riders” meaning we are assigned various routes to ride busses and document if various regulations have been met, and if we witness any segregation. Last night we took a bus to Haifa, and the girls in my group were asked to go sit in the back. When my friends said no, they didn’t have to, the men were very upset and we could hear them talking about us the entire bus ride. The adventure to Haifa was very fun – we stayed with my friend Jomi in her apartment, went to the beach and swam in the Mediterranean in the morning, and then took several busses for more freedom riding; after taking the wrong bus for one leg, and then missing another bus we were hoping to report on, it was time to head home to Jerusalem. The day was long and stressful, but we got to see a lot of Israel from out the window, and learned about the bus system and various cities we had never been to.

I’m very excited for the next week of volunteering – we have many more fun projects coming up – and then after that is our break...but now it is time to go to bed! 

Human Rights in East Jerusalem

On King David street there is a tattoo shop, and next to it a place where you can get a ham sandwich. Here in Jerusalem’s Old City I can stop for a 10 shekel iced coffee while making my way to the Western Wall. Jewish school children play basketball just below the wall on which hundreds of tourists explore the perimeter of the Old City daily. Jerusalem is a city of pairs (as in Hebrew it ends with the sound for things that come in pairs), this concept being visible in a number of ways: the new and the old, the religious and the secular, heaven and earth, etc. After spending a day in the Old City (and hanging out in the modern areas of West Jerusalem) and spending a day touring East Jerusalem with Rabbis for Human Rights, the contrasts and divisions in the communities of Jerusalem are hard to ignore.

A separation wall has been constructed between East and West Jerusalem. This wall is 8 meters of concrete with barbed wire at the top – nothing beautiful about it. We spent time discussing the purpose of walls in human life. Not only are they meant for protection, and to keep outsiders out, but they serve a more mental purpose as well. Some walls, such as the wall around the Old City, are constructed to be walked on so you can see what is happening on both sides; this is not the case for the separation wall. The barrier between East and West Jerusalem is meant to keep the populations apart. We use walls to define us, and this wall has defined much of Israel as ignorant when it comes to human rights – our guide suggested that almost 80 percent of Israelis today have not been across the wall, or have not bothered to learn about the struggles and human rights violations that it has created. However, the more “concrete” definition created by this wall is the physical boundaries of Israeli West Jerusalem.

The borders to Jerusalem are much in dispute, as they have always been. The “Green Line” is what was supposedly agreed upon in 1949 as Israel’s territory in Jerusalem, however from the time the line was drawn it has continued to build settlements outside of the Green Line to extend Israel’s control of the area. There is another line from 1967 which separates Israeli West Jerusalem from Palestinian East Jerusalem, and then there is the route of the Separation Wall. The wall was constructed disregarding this boundary thus stealing land against international law. Checkpoints, limited access and transportation flow, and other issues create many violations of human rights for the people who are now living outside of the wall. Many cannot come to Jerusalem to work, or even access hospitals without hassle of driving around the city or going through sometimes several checkpoints.

We visited a small town where several neighborhoods were very close together, some Palestinian some Israeli. The Arab/Palestinian side of town was clearly neglected; although its residents were tax-paying citizens within the Jerusalem border, the roads were not taken care of, trash was not collected and taken away, and there was overall mess. Yet, just around the corner where the Israeli neighborhood sat there was clearly new infrastructure, and it looked pleasant and well-treated. It is crazy that the Palestinians are paying taxes (so that they can keep their blue cards and access Jerusalem) but they are not seeing ANY of this money come back in the form of government services. The worst part, however, was that one Palestinian neighborhood in the area is now on the other side of the Separation Wall, which was arbitrarily built in a way that completely isolates these people. They now have no road on which they can drive in and out of their neighborhood, and they must pass through a checkpoint by foot in order to get to their cars and buy groceries. Now that they are no longer considered a part of Jerusalem they receive no government services – they must throw their trash in a pile on the side of the road. They have been separated from their families, who live in the same town just on the other side of the wall, and their standard of living has been completely disregarded.

There are many issues about human rights violations in this city – people being displaced from their homes, inequalities for women, a horribly imbalanced education system, just to name a few categories. I am so thankful to have the opportunity to start volunteering with several human rights organizations in the upcoming weeks. I feel a connection to this country, warts and all, so I feel excited to be a part of working towards solutions.

Time is Flying By

Take the fact that I haven’t posted in over two weeks as a sign that life goes by fast when you’re having fun. Today is Saturday, so things are pretty low key, and I’m giving myself sometime to catch up on work and on thinking. Its a sad day for me here at Lotan – the shorter Green Apprenticeship that was in conjunction with my program has just ended and everyone is heading out – leaving only five of us to continue on for the next 9 weeks. We ended the program yesterday morning with a closing circle that was very special. Everyone contributed a poem or quote that was read aloud, or a song, and we went around the circle reflecting on what we’ve learned and how we hope to apply it. Yes, I have many projects I hope to start when I am at home next fall, but I think the biggest thing we all took away is that this is just the beginning of much more learning to be done.

The last few weeks have been nice because we’ve had four major holidays breaking up the time. We’ve had less classes, but doing less has made it easier to absorb all the information. We started with our big Permaculture Design Projects – we had to come up with ideas for a space in the Kibbutz that could be reinvented using the guidelines of permaculture – earth care, people care, and fair shares/limits to consumption. I designed a new education building that had a classroom, a museum, and an office for the Center for Creative Ecology. It was a lot of work drawing up the plans and organizing the write ups but it went well, and they even said they might use some ideas from my project as they are starting to consider investing in a new education building for the program.

On Yom Kippur I went to services and fasted, and then after breaking the fast at the big feast in the dining hall several of the families on the Kibbutz had little open houses. A few friends and I went around to them all, and it was really fun to get to know even more of the community, which I’m now starting to feel more a part of. On Sukkot the whole Kibbutz ate under a giant sukkah (for every meal for the entire 8 days) which was very exciting. I took my day off from classes on Sukkot to go to the Dead Sea with two of my friends – we got up at 5:00 in the morning and made it to Ein Gedi, a nature reserve at the Dead Sea, at about 8:00 and went for a 3 hour hike over the mountain, stopping at a few natural springs and pools along the way. We then went and sat by the Dead Sea for a while, hot and sweaty, and decided not to go in because we were all pretty cut up. We went to Masada but since we were too tired to walk across the parking lot we decided not to waste our time heading up the mountain – I’ll go there again when I have enough energy to enjoy it. It took us a lot longer than expected but eventually we made it home and crashed for the night.

I’ve done so much over the last few weeks that I won’t even try to write it all but a few highlights – I lead services with my friend last night on the guitar camp style and the Kibbutz members really liked it, we made home-made felafel in the bustan for a potluck and even though it took 2 hours to grind all the chickpeas (we didn’t have a food processor) it was amazing! I want to make it all the time (as long as I can find a grinder). I am so excited for Jerusalem – we leave Tuesday morning and will be there for 3 weeks volunteering for several different social justice nonprofits. After that we’ll be spending a week living with a Beduoin tribe near Beer Sheva!

Desert Rain / Mechanical Drought

Talk of rain buzzed through the Kibbutz as the afternoon sky turned dark with clouds – the first clouds visible since our arrival. Here in the desert, where it rained last year only 2 millimeters, the mere thought of rain is exciting (especially when it isn't even Winter). At the pool a friend told me “It can’t be rain. That’s all air pollution” but much to her surprise droplets began to fall as we walked back to the Bustan. It wasn’t a heavy rain, not enough to make the sand wet, but the drips on my forehead every few seconds were enough to make me run around screaming! It really felt like a miracle to witness rain in the desert. Unfortunately it only lasted a few minutes, leaving behind no evidence that the water ever fell.

Not only did the rain stop but the faucet stopped producing water. It is a scary thing, in the 100 degree heat, to not have drinking water. The dining hall and the sink in our neighborhood stopped dripping and stayed dry – I woke up this morning to a friend bringing me water from a bottle we were all sharing and making me drink so I wouldn’t get dehydrated. It is crazy to think how much we take water for granted; having only what we had stored in bottles made water a precious substance today. Only when we heard the sink start to flow again tonight (after over 24 hours without it) did I feel a bit more relaxed. However, a short power outage reminded me of the reality of our lifestyle in the Bustan neighborhood.

The domes are dark during the day because if we open the windows they heat up, a bathroom isn’t in the same building as we sleep or eat, and our outdoor kitchen is home to a few stray cats (and many flies). I don’t think that this is an example of creating an environmentally friendly living space that makes sense for the modern world. It lacks the comfort, stability and security that make it an accessible lifestyle for most people in our times. Yet, I don’t want to leave any time soon! The Bustan does not need to be a perfect place – its relevance comes from making the people who visit it more aware of the ways in which “modern” life involves using resources. The purpose isn’t to suggest that all people go home and live exactly as they live here, but to make them understand ways in which they can be less wasteful. I feel guilty every time I turn on the air conditioner in my dome because the next day I see my dome meter electricity reading rise almost four kilowatts. However, this example alone lays the foundation alone for a very interesting conversation.

It is important to keep the environment in mind, eliminating waste wherever possible and limiting consumption, but at what point to the draw the line? When do we compromise sustainability in order to live comfortably? And vice versa? I feel guilty using my air conditioner because I know how much electricity it takes, but does that mean I should stop using it and sleep uncomfortably in a hot dome? The balance is different for everyone – it makes you question your priorities. I would love to see a way that sustainable practices can be put in place on a large scale without compromising quality of life drastically. I think that when I go home I will see the way I live much differently. I’ll be more aware of what I am using and wasting, and where I can lessen my impact on the environment. However, I don’t see myself sacrificing a lot of the comfort I gain from cooking in an indoor kitchen fitted with modern technologies, or warming my mom’s apartment in the winter via the heater. I would like to live in a home designed for less impact someday, but at the time I do not have the resources. My challenge for myself over the rest of the course of the program is to discover ways that I can make the that life I feel comfortable living more eco-friendly, and I hope that someday I can study and create buildings that are designed to be comfortable, but with minimal consumption.

Peace

Two Arabs rode with us home from Eilat for Shabbat. As we withdrew from the city, leaving behind the lights of both Israel's Eilat and Jordan's Aqaba, I felt for the first time like I was in the Middle East. It didn't hit me before in the isolation of Kibbutz Lotan – the tension between Israel and its neighbors – and although the car ride was pleasant, it reminded me for the first time since I got here that Israel is at war with its neighbors and within. Other than the Kibbutz' forbidden Eastern Gate which leads to the country's border, I did not feel I was in a place of conflict. Before the semester started I anticipated tension. How is it that when I was at home in the United States I was more aware of the "situation" than I am while I am actually here? Perhaps it is partially because I am in the Negev on a peaceful Kibbutz where my mind has been focussed on other things, but I think the answer is more complicated than that. Looking from the outside, most news I've heard about Israel is pessimistic, with peace not anywhere in sight. I think that it is the optimism that comes with individual successes and daily life that creates the peace I have felt here. 

When we got out of the car, my friend said to me that it is through those daily interactions, human conversations, that we make peace little by little in the Middle East. This really resonated with me. In preparation for the semester, I read a book called Peace Begins Here: Palestinians and Israelis Listening to Each Other by Thich Natch Hanh. A short piece of writing, this book takes a Buddhist perspective on the solution for peace in Israel. Hanh starts the book with a challenge: "Is it possible for Israelis and Palestinians to have a picnic and for everyone to enjoy every moment of it?" He proposes that in order for peace to be reached, everyone must first find inner peace through meditation, learning to walk and eat with mindfulness, and practicing active listening (among other things). After reading it, I have to admit, I thought it was almost funny, not practical – it didn't seem viable that a problem of such scale could be solved with such simple inward reflection. However, my experience riding with the two men has changed this. Coming from America, I am used to thinking in a way that relies on money, government, and media (these are the ways people think things are accomplished). Now I believe that peace must be achieved bit by bit, on a personal level. I struggled to connect to the conflict because I didn't experience it on a personal level. For peace, nobody can be left behind – everyone needs to be invested and involved on an individual level, thus this is the level where resolution will be found.

Why is it, then, that real social and political peace in Israel seems so far out of reach? I think there is no one answer to this question, but the two Arab men driving with us made me realize that people don't care to look at things from the others' perspective. Our driver told me a story about his brother. The pilots of the 9/11 attacks trained at a school in Florida. His brother was meant to begin studying at that school in October, but after the attacks he was no longer allowed to come to the program. I felt very uncomfortable. I was only 8 years old when 9/11 happened, but I still felt its impact. Over 10 years later, I've heard many peoples' "9/11 story" – where they were, how they found out, how it changed their life. I've never heard one from an Arab. I don't know that I ever thought about them. It's a shame that this man's brother, a PhD recipient who wants peace, was not allowed to come to America to study, and many Americans would be okay with that. We don't like to think about others. We like to keep ourselves separate, both physically and mentally. We categorize ourselves; I'm and American, He's an Arab, She's an Orthodox Jew. We don't consider people on an individual basis when we don't absolutely have to because it seems easier... I think by the state the world is in we should have realized by now that this way of thinking is not effective. I sat in the car for over 20 minutes before I realized the men were Arab Muslims. We were able to have a peaceful conversation and get to know each other as people, all labels put aside. I left the port city, where Jordan, Israel, Saudi Arabia and Egypt share a border, in a car with two Muslims, my friends from Germany and Mexico, and a new perspective on Israel.

Rosh Hashanah

The time is going by so fast it is getting hard to keep up with myself blogging. Apparently it’s already a new year! Rosh Hashanah was really nice here on the kibbutz. Classes ended Thursday around noon, and we had our regular weekly potluck in the bustan. It was very small though because a lot of people from the neighborhood went home for the holiday – four of us stayed. Friday was a normal Shabbat... nice meal in the evening, no classes during the day. Sunday I slept in a bit and then headed over to the cheese house to help out for a little while and see what goes on there. It smelled bad, and I wrapped some goat cheese with nuts for about a half hour – nothing too exciting. The real Rosh Hashanah festivities began Sunday night. The four of us left in the bustan dressed up and went to services together. They were nice, nothing like high holiday services in the states. About 40 people were there, and we sat in a small circle singing songs and prayers in Hebrew for about an hour. Dinner was a huge festive meal (the kitchen staff cooked for 11 hours) with lots of salads, beef, chicken, couscous, pomegranate and deserts. I slept most of the day on Monday and then we had another equally festive dinner that night. We also got to have a yoga class from a teacher on a nearby Kibbutz, which felt really great. Tuesday I helped out in the kitchen for three hours, serving lunch (more cleaning up afterwards). It was nice to feel helpful on the kibbutz – a lot of the time in my program I feel as though I am receiving a lot from this place but don’t have opportunities for giving much in return.

I had dinner this evening with my host family. My host dad is the head chef on the kibbutz, so I love going over to there house to eat. They are so nice and generous, and their kids (8 and 11) are funny. They are learning English while I learn Hebrew, so I brought my flashcards over and we read “Frog and Toad” in Hebrew. At Kibbutz Lotan there is no dinner in the dining room on Saturday night, so that is when host families normally have people over, but my family has been especially inviting to me – I’ve gone over for dinner a few times now, and they even brought me to Eilat with them on Friday for some time at the beach. Me and the boys swam in the Red Sea looking at the tropical fish, and even though there is a huge language barrier between us kids (the adults are very good at English) we had a lot of fun – and speaking with them in Hebrew, even just little things, is helping me feel more confident in the language. Tonight I made about 100 flashcards of different foods, so we’ll see how much I remember tomorrow.

A few of us in the bustan made Rosh Hashanah Resolutions and I think this year is going to be really wonderful. I want to take more time for myself, and practice being my own good company. At the same time, I want to take every opportunity I can to learn something new. I want to explore, and even though I know it is important to plan for the future, I want to really live in the moment and be present – last year, amidst finishing high school and applying for college, I spent all of my time thinking about the future and I think that made me miss out on a lot of what was happening right in front of me. 

Other stuff that I forgot to mention: I went to some random horse-therapy class at a nearby Kibbutz where we danced with feathers on the back of horses (I couldn’t stop laughing, so I don’t think I really got it... but it was fun), I baked granola with plum, apple and marula in the solar oven and it was amazing, I’m making really good friends with some volunteers from all over the world – South Africa, Germany, and Holland to name a few, and I’m exhausted but I don’t care because I’m having such an amazing experience.

Shana Tova! שנה טובה

(Happy New Year)

Week 3

I want to build a house out of mud, on a lake, and in front there will be a little garden. The roof will be green, full of life, and the windows will face the South to catch heat from the winter sun but stay cool in the summer. I’ll grow vegetables in the back and cook in a taboon. I can picture it in my head – this vision is the inspiration for my environmental construction and design course. Probably my favorite subject, we’ve been looking at various methods that make a building more sustainable. Passive solar heating, insulative walls, rainwater collection, etc. are all fairly easy ways to save energy and the environment – why don’t all buildings utilize them? We watched a few videos and slideshows about successful examples of these buildings in the modern world, where ancient techniques (which seem to have been forgotten) are put to work. We even saw a picture of a cob (mud) house in Northern Michigan, where 5 woman live year round – the house is heated by the sun, even in the winter when there is snow, and the house is beautiful. It proves that sustainable construction is possible anywhere in the world, and it is being practiced everywhere, but not enough.

In another class we’ve been working a lot in the garden. Because the sun is so hot during the day here in the desert, we work early in the morning on weeding and tending to the plants – in our neighborhood we are growing corn, beans, basil, mint, squash, lettuce and fennel. I haven’t gotten my plum seeds to germinate yet, but I am hoping to plant a few tiny plum trees by the time I leave the kibbutz. Harvesting from the eco-kef is the most fun for me – a morning or two a week I am volunteering to get up early and pick vegetables in the garden for the dining hall and shop. As I picked and bagged salad greens a few days ago, I realized how little I reflect on how much work goes into the food we eat every day. I like the feeling of harvesting food that is fresh and healthy, that will support other people. It is simple work, but important. 

Every day I fall in love with Israel more. While the culture here at Lotan is very unique from the rest of the country, the people from all over Israel that I am meeting here are teaching me so much. I’m learning Hebrew very quickly (I got moved to the best level, and can now write short silly stories and have basic conversations). It’s difficult to tell whether I am unable to think logically or if my logic itself has changed here. New ideas about where I see myself in the world, and what I want to do with my life, enter my head daily as we are getting over the “honeymoon” phase of the program and really diving deeper into the material. Sticking to my “life plan” is no longer a priority – being around such diverse people in my program, I’m learning that following the pattern of what is expected for me is not necessarily optimal. I’m now planning on returning to Israel for 5 months this spring to do more intensive Hebrew training, explore more of the country (I’m planning on being on a different Kibbutz in the North), and see where my gut takes me from there! In the meantime, I’m having an amazing time here in the Negev Desert.

Carrot Squash Soup

I’ll be up for a while since I slept all day today, so I’m taking my break from homework for some blogging. Shabbat is a nice, much needed, change of pace from the week – I am excited to wake up at six tomorrow morning for garden work, don’t get me wrong, but I definitely needed this weekend to relax and have some fun.

Thursday night, after a long day of classes, working on our mud bench, and eco-neighborhood potluck, we went to the pub at nearby Kibbutz Qetora, which is literally across the street but I had yet to visit. It was fun, but I found there was something missing in the air – the spirit of Lotan is strong, and leaving for the first time since I got here made me feel it even stronger. If I haven’t said it enough, Lotan is truly magical. Everyone is so welcoming and fun, and the atmosphere is full of passion. We got back from Qetora late, but I somehow managed to wake up on time for our 6:00 AM shift at the date plantation. Over 15% of Kibbutz Lotan’s income is from their farm of dates, so we spent about 5 hours Friday morning helping pick the medjool dates – this is the prime harvest season. It was hot, so shaking the palms and collecting the dates from the bags they fall into was very tiring. However, the experience was very meaningful for me. I think most people overlook the effort that goes into food production. In five hours, the twenty of us harvested about 300 bins of dates... the work was very humbling.

Friday afternoons are normally left open for us, since everybody likes to take time to transition from the week to Shabbat. A few friends and I took the bus down to Eilat, a 45 minute ride that served as a mini-tour since there was a stop at every Kibbutz on the way South from Lotan. Although it was a bit touristy, I thought Eilat was very fun. We got some iced coffee (yes, I am still addicted to coffee) and took a cab to the beach. The Red Sea was beautiful for swimming – though very salty, it was amazingly blue and clear, and brilliantly colored fish swam right up to our legs from the coral reef. From the Israeli beach we could see Jordan across the water (within swimming distance), and we could see Egypt’s shore not far away... Eilat is a very cool port city, which is small but borders both Egypt and Jordan. We got a nice dinner and then got a ride back up to Lotan at around 10:00 in time for the weekly Friday night party.

I slept all day today, and woke up only to go to the pool for a few hours. Then I did some homework, observing various architecture in the Kibbutz and working on my Hebrew, and then it was time for dinner. On Saturday night there is no dinner in the dining hall because people eat with their families... I will have a host family that takes me in for this meal starting next week, but they were out of town this week so I was invited to eat dinner at one of my teachers’ houses. As you should all know, I am a very picky eater, but I came to Israel promising myself I would be open-minded when it comes to food. So far I have tried a new food at almost every meal, and don’t know if I can even call myself a picky eater anymore. Lunches and dinners are adventures, and  I love how my plates are becoming more colorful. My teacher is an amazing cook, so for dinner we ate some carrot and squash soup (amazing), Jerusalem salad (also amazing), and potatoes (yes, amazing as well). For desert we had medjool date/chocolate balls and homemade ice cream. These too were amazing. 

My horizons are not only expanding when it comes to food. I feel myself becoming a different person, more open minded and interested in a broader range of ideas. I fail to describe my experience here because it is so new. I decided to defer an additional semester to the University of Denver – I am not ready to start school this winter. I want to see more of the world, maybe traveling and volunteering in Israel. There is so much to explore. I think it is awful that there is such pressure in the United States for people to rush into college, locking themselves into debt and commitments when they are so young. There is always time for that, but for now I want to discover more about myself and the world around me.

קומפוסט (compost)

There is something magical about this place – only here could anyone convince me to get up at 5:30 in the morning to dig through dumpsters of rotting food and manure. We started our week bright and early Sunday morning in the eco-kef to make our first sheet mulch garden bed. Essentially, we took bin after bin of organic waste and made a big pile that in a few months will have decomposed for us to plant corn in. Composting is starting to consume my thoughts, and on Sunday its presence in my mind was especially intense... the nasty taste and smell of our long pile of future soil haunted me the entire morning and well into the afternoon. However, as disgusting as the experience was, it was sort of fun in a way – composting is beneficial in many ways that a lot of people don’t think about. Not only is compost an amazing source of nutrients for gardens, but it is a way of recycling waste that would otherwise continue to produce more waste – garbage takes gas to be transported to a landfill, where it takes up space and is sealed off so it cannot decompose aerobically. Instead, harmful gasses are released into the environment as it rots. Composting is a simple and very easy way to turn waste into food that doesn’t have to be smelly or attract animals. I hope that when I get home I will be able to continue composting and that more will follow.

Fortunately, I got to leave the stench of the sheet mulch compost bed for my first Hebrew lesson. I’m really excited to be learning the language – it’s going really well and I can tell that within one week my vocab has grown drastically. Being around so many Israelis, its exciting to be starting to understand bits of their conversations. Then, after breakfast, we spent the majority of the day in the classroom for our gardening class, and the first session of our permaculture course. By two months from now I should have my official Permaculture Design Certificate. Permaculture, in case you were wondering (I didn’t know the definition until about two weeks ago), means permanent agriculture – basically, it is all things sustainability, closing of cycles, growing food, etc. It’s all super inspiring and thought-provoking, but we are all suffering a little from what we call the “greenroom effect”: our classroom is called the greenroom, and whenever we go in it we fall asleep from the heat. Its not too bad, though, because we spend most of our time outside.

On Monday we checked in with our compost piles, continued discussing the 10 principles of permaculture, and had a lesson on the history of Kibbutz Lotan, which is soon to be entering its 30th year. More importantly, however, Monday night was Israeli dancing night. A delegation of about ten of us from the bustan showed up, and our hilarious “dance teacher” taught us some “Israeli folk dancing” (although, I don’t know if I would call the Macarena an Israeli dance). I laughed harder than I have in a long time – it was really fun, and apparently we are now all in a dance troupe that meets every week... we’ll see. Tuesday morning we started our first big mud building project. At the eco-kef (Lotan’s eco-tourism playground and educational garden space) are the beginnings of a mini-golf course made of recycled materials. We spent the morning building a mud bench that might become part of the golf course. After about 3 hours we finished the first and second coats of mud, which are over a base structure made of recycled tires filled with plastic garbage. Tomorrow we’ll add the last two coats and see how it looks! We cleaned off  that afternoon with some time in the pool and then at night I met some of the other teens my age that are living at the kibbutz. Everyone is really cool, and I’m excited to be making some more friends outside of my program so I can become more a part of the kibbutz community.

This morning we woke up early to plant a garden in our neighborhood. Among others, we planted basil, corn, beans, squash, cilantro, onion and dill. A lot of the plants are right outside my window so hopefully in a week or two I will see some green in front of the goat pen. I am planning to experiment this week with growing a plum tree to see if I can get one to sprout in this climate. We also had a green architecture class all afternoon, and now we’re off to celebrate a friend’s birthday! 

More later!

Shabbat Shalom

We ended our work week on Thursday with a potluck dinner. Using all the equipment in our eco-kitchen, we all worked on dishes to share: we made pizzas and bread in the taboon mud-oven, several salads and stews, and for dessert we had watermelon solar-oven baked brownies. It was fun to all cook together, and everything tasted amazing (or maybe I was just tired and hungry from the three hours of cooking).  We didn’t stay up too late because of our impending early wake-up Friday morning. In order to get ready for Shabbat, there were no classes on Friday morning. Instead we headed out at 6:00 in the morning for a hike through the desert mountains before it got too hot out from the sun. A guide from the Kibbutz brought us up into the rocks and taught us all sorts of things about the history of the land, and also about the hundreds of thousands of birds who migrate over the Arava desert every year. This desert is one of the driest in the world – this year they only got about 6 millimeters of rain total. It is amazing that so many people have been able to cultivate the land, following Israel’s first president’s dream to “make the desert bloom”. 

We made it back in time for breakfast, and then spent the morning in the pool. After lunch we all bummed around relaxing in the bustan. I sliced some apples and put them in our solar-dehydrator to make apple chips. They were just a first test, so they weren’t perfect, but they did come out pretty good! After this, it was time for Kabbalat Shabbat services. About 35 of us came for services, in a small community room on the Kibbutz. Sitting in a circle on the floor, a few Lotan teens played guitar and we sang many of the same tunes as we use at camp. It was a really magical service... I didn’t understand much of anything anyone said but I could feel the passion in the air and hear it in the voices of the community as they sang in harmonies. It was a short service, only about an hour as the sun was setting, and then we all headed to dinner. It was a nice meal, served to our tables instead of the normal buffet-style set up in the chadar. After dinner all of the people in the Living Routes and Green Apprenticeship program walked about a mile off the residential part of the Kibbutz to have a bonfire over by the date farm. We made tea from herbs we picked in our neighborhood and looked at the stars in the clearest sky I have ever seen. At about 12:30 we made our way back to the Kibbutz for a party that lasted until about 3 in the morning and then finally conked out for the night.

Because of Shabbat we got to sleep in today, so I woke up around 1:00 just in time for lunch. Today is a chill day, nothing on the schedule, so we’ll probably hit up the pool and then join some of the Kibbutz teens for an ultimate frisbee game. Tomorrow morning we return to our normal schedule and also start our hebrew lessons. Until later, Shabbat Shalom from Kibbutz Lotan!

College: Mud, Seeds, and Poop 101

I’ve been here only three days and it already feels like home. Mornings are my favorite. I wake up around 5:00, when the sun is starting to rise, to the sound of the goat milking about 20 feet from my window. The air is cool, but not for long, and the bustan is peaceful and quiet. I brush my teeth at our outdoor sinks and kill some time walking around and looking out at the surrounding mountains. By seven fifteen I make it to the chadar ohel (dining hall) for breakfast; fresh plums and pears, eggs, salad of cucumbers and tomato, and some bread with tahini sauce. It feels like a treat at every meal to eat such delicious fruits and vegetables. We then start our day at 8:00 on the lawn with our morning celebrations and warm up.

My first college class was gardening. We looked at different types of seeds, discussed germination, and our first project – planting twenty onion seeds to observe throughout the semester. After this, we made our way through the eco-playground to our next class: building adobe sun-dried bricks. Apparently, playing with mud is more technical than I thought. We learned the basic ratios for mud construction. But then, we got our hands dirty, mixed big batches of mud, and made a bunch of bricks. That evening before dinner we all made more thorough introductions, explored the kibbutz and played in the pool – a much needed cool-down from the 38º C desert heat. After dinner we stayed out late singing songs (both I and an Israeli brought guitars) and socializing in the moa-dome (moadone is hebrew for clubhouse). Day 1 = successful.

The next morning we had a class on sustainable communities (eco-villages), and the roots of our world’s global crises. It was really interesting and exciting to feel like what I was learning about was relevant; within my lifetime the world will be facing many necessary major changes, and I feel like here at Lotan we are on the verge of big things – real practical solutions. After that we made some seed balls, and then made our first compost piles. My group’s was “kitchen-themed” so we used food scraps, corn husks, egg cartons, etc. We are hoping to replicate a compost pile someone could create in their kitchen, to see how well it would work for people to do at home. In the afternoon we had big group team building exercises including a blindfolded trust walk through the desert, and some games that felt like camp – actually, all of my time here has felt like I am at camp... except there aren’t really any rules. I love it here. 

Today we did some more mud-brick construction, and learned all about the different ovens in our outdoor kitchen. Tonight we have our first potluck dinner in the eco-neighborhood. Somebody is making pizzas in the taboon (basic mud-oven), somebody has been baking brownies in our solar oven, and I am very excited... I don’t know what I am making yet, but I am thinking of making some chocolate covered pomegranate seeds from the pomegranate tree just outside my dome! Also this afternoon we spent some time learning all about our compost toilets. We have a "kaki classroom" underneath our bathroom where we learned hour our human waste is turned to compost which is used on trees throughout the kibbutz!

I was really nervous before coming because I knew I would be the youngest here, but it doesn’t matter. I'm having so much fun meeting new people from all over the world who all have different stories. They are all very inspirational – it is going to be hard to transition from such a magical place with such original and thoughtful people to go to regular college... The things we have been learning about and experiencing have already opened my eyes, and I am very excited to be learning about something "real". For the first time I feel that the education I am getting is important. Everything has been fun so far – making seed balls and mud bricks, hanging in the bustan late at night, and even having more serious discussions and classes – everything is so interesting to me that I have a hard time not getting excited about it. I can't wait to see what else is in store for me this semester. 

Arrival

Flights to Israel are always interesting. From the Orthodox Jews praying in the aisle next to you to the group of obnoxious middle schoolers singing, it is hard to not let others’ excitement wear off on you –– not that I could take on any more anticipation, having been waiting for an entire year for this day to arrive. I didn’t sleep a wink on the plane. Ten and a half hours in the air, the flight from Philadelphia to Tel Aviv went by fairly quickly (except for during the times I sat watching our plane move like a snail across the GPS screen). Stepping off the plane I felt the heat of the 91 degree Israeli afternoon with the biggest smile of anyone in the airport. I made it through customs, baggage claim and getting my passport stamped in about 30 minutes and searched the crowd for the group with the Kibbutz Lotan sign.

We then packed all of our stuff, and the six of us, into a van and started driving South. From the shotgun seat I watched the green turn to brown as we got further and further in to the desert. It was beautiful watching the sunset over the empty Negev as we made our way (about 100 kph) down the dangerously windy freeway. We stopped after about three hours, which we had mostly spent asleep, and had a picnic dinner at Mitspe Ramon – the “Israeli Grand Canyon”. I recognized the street from when I was in Israel two years ago; when I was in Israel then we had practically the same first day: arrive in Tel Aviv and drive for 5 hours straight South into the desert. After dinner, an assortment of fresh fruits and cheeses made at Lotan, we drove for about another hour and got to our Kibbutz at about 10:00 pm.

We took a quick tour of our bustan eco-village neighborhood, but it was dark so we are getting the real tour tomorrow. We unpacked in our mud-huts which are called “dome-atories”, had a quick lesson on how to use the compost toilets (more details to come) and saw where to get water in our outdoor kitchen (which was being used by a hedgehog when we first stepped in). After we finished unpacking, the five of us in the Living Routes 4-month program explored the rest of the Kibbutz with a few of the Green Apprentices (who are on a shorter 2-month program that also started today). We went to “the pub” where all of the people our age were hanging out and had an impromptu, but huge, bonfire until about 1:30 in the morning. Due to our 7:00 wake up tomorrow, we decided to call it a night. I can’t wait for our first two classes tomorrow morning: “seeds” and “mud”. I will definitely post some pictures soon!

Dome 3 (my mud hut)

Our outdoor bread and pizza cookers

eco-village community kitchen (outside)

The "Moa-dome" (our hang-out space)

inside the eco-kitchen

The Eco-Village Attitude

I'm leaving in just about three weeks, and I didn't know I could get this excited for something! As stressful as getting ready for this semester has been (especially since I am doing it all from Eagle River, WI, at camp) I am starting to feel ready: flight's been booked, applied for my student visa, started making introductions via email with the other 3 kids, and am making some headway on my pre-semester assignments. I've been doing a lot of reading, and just finished the first draft of my first "learning journal entry" so I thought I would share it with you all. I titled it "The Eco-Village Attitude":

For the last year, since I’ve known I would be spending a semester at Kibbutz Lotan, I have been subject to countless jokes about the “mud hut” I will be living in, and the waterless toilets I will be using. Many of these jokes are my own, however I know that what I am about to experience is far more than taking eco-showers and cooking in a solar-oven. An eco-village is an attitude; a kehilah (community) that says “we can do it” when facing a challenge. 

Kibbutz Lotan, a member of the Global Ecovillage Network (GEN), specializes in environmentally friendly practices from composting and recycling organic waste to alternative building materials and an eco-campus neighborhood. The people at Lotan have committed to the concept of tikkun olam (repairing the world). However, just as in many other ecovillages, Lotan is dedicated to not only environmental activism. Residents of Lotan are also passionate about social justice and equality, striving to raise quality of life for people both on and off the kibbutz. This ecovillage is one of only two kibbutzim in Israel that is a member of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, and written in Lotan’s Mission Statement is an effort to create a “progressive expression of Jewish religion and culture into our day-to-day life through mitzvot.” Lotan’s vision is irrefutably bright, yet like all other ecovillages and kibbutzim, Lotan faces many difficulties.

There is no universally accepted definition of the term eco-village; they vary from traditional communities attempting to maintain small footprints to research retreat centers to living laboratories. However, most have many commonalities: Firstly, maybe most importantly, work in ecovillages is about process (not product). This means that ecovillages are not perfect, completed places, but instead communities on their own path towards success. Even the Findhorn Foundation eco-village, the community with the smallest environmental footprint in the modern world, is not entirely self-sustaining; “...if everyone on Earth lived like a Findhorn Community member, we’d still need several planets to support our lifestyles” says Daniel Greenberg. Eco-villages are also linked by a number of features including group decision making, mindfulness practices, ecological designs and interests in social justice. 

Many of my friends and family were surprised that I would be interested in spending four months at an eco-village. I am coming from a stereotypical suburban life––I “can’t survive” without my daily Starbucks coffee, hate bugs, and spend more time on my computer than is healthy. Nevertheless, I think that mine matches the eco-village attitude. I am strong willed, and when I set my mind to something I almost always find a way to achieve success. I am passionate about social justice and equality, and am creative in finding ways to solve problems. I love to learn hands on, and my experience with theater has helped me to appreciate a process-over-product way of thinking. Also, my time at a Jewish camp for 11 summers in a row has taught me the value of community. 

I hope you will continue reading as I start to post more regularly when I get to Israel! It's weird trying to write papers from camp... not exactly the same mindset here as at school. However, it has been fun to start exploring what my next four months will be like! Here's a picture of the "dome-atories" I will be in.