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.