Towards evening, we were invited to meet families living at the Kibbutz. This proved to be a highlight of our stay here, for it gave us an opportunity to learn, first-hand, what it is like to live here.
A visit with a Kibbutz family
We made it back to the hotel with about an hour to spare before we assembled in the kibbutz reception area to be introduced to kibbutz families who offered to meet small groups of us in their homes. Aharon Nechushtan, a retired man in his sixties, met our family and proceeded to take us out of the resort and into the kibbutz homes surrounding it. Along the way, we passed a cement bomb shelter, that had, no doubt, seen active use over the years.
Ahron's home was the last one down a quiet street, covered by trees and lush, green lawns. There, we met his wife, Hadasa, a short, weathered woman, but with bright, intelligent eyes. We were relieved to find that they both spoke English. The conversation was a bit stilted at first, as we both searched for common ground, but we quickly found ourselves chatting about life in the kibbutz, and something of how they came to Israel.
Aharon and Hadasa were, in fact, some of the oldest residents on the kibbutz. They told of how they left Poland after the second World War and made their way, already a couple at 18 years old, to Italy where they joined other like-minded young people wanting to make Alyiah in Israel. They arrived in Israel before Israel was, in fact, a country. And, as true pioneers, they became joined the kibbutz that has been part of their lives ever since.
The kibbutz itself has undergone huge changes in recent years. A tremendously successful socialist experiment during the 1950's to 1970's, no one owned property, or the homes in which they lived in. That is rapidly changing. Homes are now owned by members themselves and are 'sold' to them with value based on the number of years of service at the kibbutz. The assets of the kibbutz itself is being divided among members as well, although the formula has yet to be worked out. For pensioners such as Aharon and Hadesa, this poses special challenges, as they have no assets at all, outside of what they have invested of their time and energy over these many years. Aharon, a self-taught engineer by trade, has accepted these changes as necessary. The positive effects of privatizing the kibbutz is already being felt. People are returning the the Kibbutz to work there, as they see a financial future there, where, before, they were leaving to see opportunities in the cities, and perhaps leave Israel itself.
We were soon joined by one of their daughters, Orna, and, later by her youngest daughter, Ella, aged 10 and her friend Yaara, and later, Ella's oldest sister, Mia, aged 12 and a half. Our children and hers happily disappeared outside to look at a peacock (yes, a peacock) that was strutting across the lawn and later set off to explore the kibbutz together. In the meantime, we chatted with Orna, who, with her husband, Rayn, runs a bed and breakfast business in another community just outside the kibbutz. We spoke of life growing up on the kibbutz, a safe, happy place for children during peacetime.
Two years ago, however, it was a different story. Orna and Rayn sent their children to have a 'vacation' in southern Israel while over 4,000 missiles rained down on the upper Galilee region in less than a month. The noise was frightening, as with every missile, there was always the question of where it might land.
Contrary to many others who virtually lived out of bomb shelters, Orna and Rayn stayed at their bed and breakfast business, looking after a massive number of international journalists who descended there to observe what was going on. Orna recalled how, speaking with her daughter Ella on the phone, she was asked "is it still noisy outside"? Orna said, with rockets flying overhead, yes, it was noisy. Ella then replied, "OK, I'll stay here until the noise goes away". Though the kids seemed happy, in fact, quite delightful, we were told that many residents, including children had been traumatized by what happened two years ago. These are clearly a resilient, strong people, though. What they have accomplished in this country, against all odds, is truly remarkable.
And, so Shabbat comes to an end
Partway through our conversation, we were joined by Orna's sister, a free-lance author by trade, and later, as dusk approached, Orna's husband, Rayn. It was a lovely evening, as we talked until twilight came. Finally it was time for us to return to the resort. There, we celebrated Havdallah with the Rabbi, standing in a circle under the trees, ending Shabbat with this beautiful candle-lit ceremony.
A very late dinner
Afterward, just as we are all feeling rather famished as it was past 9:00 PM, we discovered there had been a 'minor' programming oversight. It had somehow been assumed we would be sharing a meal with the families, when, in fact, we had only light refreshments. So, by the time Havdallah ended, the kids were starving. With fifty people looking for dinner and the little bar that had been open after the main restaurant closed, Neal, the tour organizer, took quick action. We were herded onto the bus at 10:00 PM and taken into Kiryat Shmona, the town nearby. We were amazed to find the mall still open at that hour, but, even more so, that there were throngs of people there, socializing and literally overwhelming some of the food fair vendors. We guessed that this might have to do with after-Shabbat shopping and quick dinners. With all stores closed for twenty four hours and the summer heat becoming bearable outside after sunset, wouldn't you want to get out of the house in the evening to shop, too?
We were home and back in bed by 11:30. Which was good, because we have to pack up and move to the Dead Sea early tomorrow morning!
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