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