Ofek: My Exploration of Labor Zionism

From December 6th to December 17, my kvutza, along with the Brits, was split up into three groups. Each of us was asked to choose from three activities: a tiyul in the Negev, Binah (study at a secular Yeshiva in Tel Aviv), and working on the mata'im (plantations) at Kibbutz Ravid. I chose the last option. Thirteen of us arrived on Ravid on Saturday night, the sixth. Itamar, a man in his early thirties and actively involved in Hanoar Ha'Oved, gave us a tour of the kibbutz and then told us to go to bed because we would be expected to be ready the next morning by 6:15. 

We awoke Sunday morning at 5:45, grabbed a small bowl of cereal, packed a hearty breakfast, and met Itamar outside to get a ride to the mango mata'im. Upon arrival we were given a short tutorial on how to chop and prune the mango trees so that they would provide a plentiful harvest next summer. Our first task was to make a "door" so that we could enter the tree. This usually involved sawing off one large branch at about chest height. Then, we were to climb up into the tree and make "windows". To do this we would look at the bushing around the tree and if no sunlight reached the center of the tree we would take off a couple branches. The final step was to climb down out of the tree and go around it, sawing off branches that were too close to the ground and using clippers to get rid of any "porcupines" (branches from which more than three or four other branches split off) and heavily bushy areas. 

We had three madrichim in the mata'im: Itamar, Ret, and Choul. Ret and Choul were Sudanese refugees. About seven years ago, they had fled Sudan and traveled through Egypt into Israel. However, as soon as they entered Israel, they were put in a detainment center in southern Israel. Luckily, Ret and Choul were still minors at the time (fourteen and sixteen) and so Hanoar Ha'Oved (our sister youth movement) was able to gain custody over them and brought them to live on Kibbutz Ravid (a movement owned kibbutz by the Kinneret) with a couple of families living on the kibbutz. The Israeli government, however, has not given Ret and Choul citizenship nor refugee status which means that if they leave Kibbutz Ravid and travel to Tel Aviv, for example, they risk being arrested and detained yet again. 

Anyway, for the entire week we worked in the mango mata'im. Our goal each day was to cut approximately twenty trees. The last three days that we worked in the mata'im were different though. We were given the opportunity to harvest the clementina (clementines) instead of pruning and cutting the mango trees. This avodah (work) required quite different work. Instead of climbing the trees, we were instructed to pick three baskets of large, very orange, ripe fruit from each tree, and then pick all the fruit on the tree that was below our knees. Our goal for each day was to pick three dolavs (huge crates) for every three people. Each day, no matter whether we were working in the mango or clementina mata'im, at about 9:30 am, we would break for our breakfast and enjoy the company of each other and our madrichim. By 10, we were back at work until 1 or 2 pm. The hardest time of the day was during the 11 am to 12 pm time period. We had already been working for hours and if was very difficult to keep ourselves motivated at this time. During the first half of the day before breakfast, I usually was quiet and used the time for personal reflection, whereas by 11 am, I needed to be interacting with someone. I learned quite a few new songs and I had some very interesting conversations with my fellow workers about life. 

After we finished in the fields for the day, three people would make lunch (based on rotation) and then we would just hangout with each other or nap for a couple of hours. Everyone got really into playing Set and Resistance while we were there. Following nap time, we usually had a peulah. We talked heavily about labor Zionism and read many texts from early labor Zionists. The one I found most fascinating was a woman recounting the discrimination she faced working the land because of her womanhood. She explained how she felt like she constantly had to prove herself to the men. A partner and I discussed the reading and asked ourselves if we felt that we had ever experienced discrimination based on our gender within Habonim settings, and, unfortunately, we both had at some points. We spoke about ideas we had to lessen the discrimination and most of our thoughts came back to education. We still have a lot of thoughts on the topic that we need to work out, but I hope to engage with these thoughts more in the near future.

On one of the days, Phia ran a peulah for us on blessings and thankfulness. We read an English translation of a poem by an early labor Zionist, Chaim Nachman Bialik. The poem follows:

 

Who saves us from hunger? Who gives us bread? And who gives us milk?

Whom do we thank?

Whom do we bless?

Work and skill!

 

Who covers us in the cold? Who turns the dark to light? Who hauls water from the well?

Whom do we thank?

Whom do we bless?

Work and skill!

 

Who plants trees for fruit and shad in the orchard, with a spade? Who sows grain across the fields?

​Whom do we thank?

​Whom do we bless?

Work and skill!

 

Who builds a roof to keep us dry, fences the garden and the vine? Who takes the trouble, every time for the Sabbath and festive days?

​Whom do we thank?

​Whom do we bless?

Work and skill!

 

And all week long we work, and so we toil. The yoke is hard, the yoke is sweet! And when we stop, we sing out loud

​Songs of thanks

​Songs of praise

To work and skill!

 

The first stanza of this poem is said (in Hebrew) before every meal at Tavor and has become a very meaningful blessing to me and my life. One aspect about this poem that I really appreciate is the fact that it can be interpreted that the whole human race comes together to be a "we". "We work" and "we toil", and so we thank each other and ourselves. 

Although I struggled (and am still struggling) with questions about the use of pesticides in the mata'im and the significance of labor Zionism in regard to Israel today, all in all my time spent on Ravid has been a very special part of my Workshop experience thus far.

Catching Up: Part 2

The day after the Rabin Rally we had a guest speaker, Yisrael, a Jewish settler from Shiloh. We had been learning about settlers in our Israeli Society course and separated them into three different groups: Ideological, "Quality-of-life", and Ultra-orthodox. 

A brief overview of each type of settler through our texts

"Ideological settlers: mainly use religious and nationalist arguments to justify the settlements' existence and their own presence in the West Bank, and who generally live deep in the heart of the a West Bank.

'Quality-of-life settlers': motivated to move to the West Bank primarily for economic reasons and who generally live in settlements located closer to the Green Line (border between Israel and the West Bank).

Ultra-Orthodox settlers: subset of quality-of-life settlers in that their presence in the West Bank is a function, almost exclusively, of the construction of cheap, segregated (i.e. Ultra-Orthodox housing inside Israel is expensive and overcrowded."

Yisrael had been living in Shiloh for over twenty years and had immigrated there from New York City. Yisrael is an ideological settler, and our discussion with him got fairly heated. Yisrael explained to us that the Jews were the chosen people and thus had been promised this land by God; not to mention the Jews had been in this land far longer than the Arabs or Palestinians. He also explained that Jews had been exiled from their land many times. One of my kvutza mates, Mia, made a comparison for Yisrael. She said that by his logic, he must believe that the Native Americans should be allowed to reclaim their land since they had been in America much before any Anglos arrived, and had been "exiled", so to speak, from their lands as well. Yisrael completely shut this argument down saying that they were very different situations and that America is a country founded on diversity and immigration. A slightly strange come back most of us thought. All in all our conversation with him exposed us to reality, and made us very aware that there is no logical way to combat an argument based on religion.

The following day we traveled to Tel Aviv. Our morning stop was the Trumpeldor cemetery. Buried there are the city's founders, early residents, and a number of the city's leaders. The second Prime Minister, and one of only a few Prime Ministers not to be buried at Har Herzl, Moshe Sharett, has his grave in the Trumpeldor cemetery.

In the afternoon, we headed to the Palmach Museum for a guided audio tour. The Palmach was the precursor to the IDF and was the fighting unit of the Haganah (Underground Jewish Parliamentary organization in what was then the British Mandate of Palestine from 1920-1948). The museum was quite well done, recounting the early history of the state of Israel with holograms and very real-seeming scenery.  But, the museum was also extremely eye-opening for us as we realized how the Government wants Israelis and tourists to view the Palmach. It was pretty aggravating to see just how one-sided the museum presented the story of that time to be.

Later that week, we learned about Operation Entebbe. "A counter-terrorist hostage-rescue mission carried out by commandos of the IDF at Entebbe Airport in Uganda on July 4, 1976. A week earlier, June 27, an Air France plane with about 250 passengers was hijacked by hijackers of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine-External Operations." The next day we met with a woman, Janet, who had been on the hijacked plane. She and her new Israeli husband had been on their way to visit Janet's parents who lived in Madison, WI. It was a very traumatic experience for her, but she praised the Israeli soldiers who had rescued her and the other captive Israelis. She also told us about how the Kibbutz Ein Dor responded when she and her husband finally made it home. She got out a humungous photo-album/scrapbook and showed us newspaper clippings and pictures of decorated Ein Dor. As soon as Janet and her husband entered Ein Dor upon their return, there were people who lined the road with flowers from the gates to the chadar ochel. The welcome showed just how strong the kibbutz community was and how much support there was for each other. 

That week our Siyur was in Haifa where we were to learn about Haifa as a mixed city (Arabs and Jews). This was by far my favorite Siyur yet. Haifa originally in the 1920s was a "small fishing town [that] was turning quickly into a city, a center of government, and a magnet for Arab migrants from surrounding villages and for Jews from Europe." Haifas population was growing rapidly, but was still majority Arab. A separate Jewish neighborhood, Hadar HaCarmel, formed so that Jews could "live apart from the clamor of the Arab city." On the Siyur, we drove up the mountain, got out near the Baha'i Gardens, and looked down on the current Hadar HaCarmel which is located just near the Technion (the technical college in partnership with Jerusalem's Hebrew University).

The part of the Siyur that I found most fascinating was learning about the history of leadership and government in Haifa. In the 1920s a prominent Arab leader arose. Starting as a preacher in a Mosque, al-Qassam became very popular very fast. He urged his followers to engage in terrorist activities against the British and Jews, and they did, equipping themselves with firearms and bombs so as to attack Zionist targets. Arabs feared the Judaization of the country and tried again and again to halt Zionist immigration, meanwhile the Zionists continued to push for immigration and Jewish statehood. Like so many western thinkers, David Ben-Gurion saw the Arabs as being impoverished and needing of help, Ben-Gurion believed more Jews would bring about a better life for Arabs, too. Musa al-'Alami, a moderate Palestinian leader said, "I would prefer that the country remain impoverished and barren for another hundred years, until we ourselves are able to develop it on our own." (A quote that I find very powerful!) However, the fighting only got worse and more violent. The British involved themselves and the two parties began to negotiate and discuss the surrender and ceasefire terms. 

Prior to and during the revolt, Arab leader and mayor of Haifa, Hassan Shukri, founded the Muslim National Associates, an organization that supported the Zionist cause as well as Arabs. Many Arabs did not like Shukri. Shabbetai Levi was vice-mayor in Haifa during Shukri's term, but when Shukri died, Levi took over and became the first Jewish mayor in Haifa. During the War of Independence, Levi tried very hard to use his influence to prevent the expulsion and leaving of the Arabs from the city. To me, Haifa's history is very significant, and I really appreciated the visiting different sights in the city to better understand it.

Soon enough it was almost Thanksgiving. I, and three others, ventured into Afula to do some major food shopping. It was quite a task to find so many American ingredients in an Israeli grocery store, but we tried and did pretty well, with a few substitutions of course. We made it back to Ein Dor, each of us loaded up with grocery bags, each of which were loaded up with all sorts of treats. As a kvutza, we had decided to have our Thanksgiving dinner on Friday evening instead of Thursday due to the issue of having one tiny stove and programming until four pm on Thursday. So, Thursday night I got to work in the kitchen. My contribution to the meal was pecan pies and sweet-potato-marshmallow casserole. Friday evening everyone got dressed up and including the Brits, who we had asked to join us for their first Thanksgiving meal. A couple of toasts of thanks and appreciation were made, before we began our feast. We had turkey (which the kibbutz had so generously allowed us to cook in their oven), stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, rosemary rolls, challah, pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, apple pie, whipped cream, the list continues on. It was quite a night to remember. After some cleaning, Shoshana, Maya, and I decided to die the tips of our hair pink. It came out much more red than pink, but we had fun, and it was all in all a wonderful night. 

Saturday was a busy day as well, as we spent the day filming our first kvutza music video to the song "Come on Eileen." We spent a lot of time running around the kibbutz in clothes that made us look like we were from the 80's. It was definitely a highlight of my Boneh weekend experiences. 

The following week was our last week on kibbutz, a very bitter-sweet time. We started the week off by traveling to Jerusalem. On the way, we stopped in a small Arab village, Abbu Ghosh, where we were treated to delicious hummus. Upon arrival in Jerusalem, we went to Har Herzl to learn more about Herzl, Rabin, and many others buried there. There was a very interesting memorial known as "The Last of Kin" which is symbolically house shaped. The memorial was erected for Holocaust survivors who had made Aliyah following the Holocaust and were then killed, fighting in the War of Independence. I also really appreciated visiting the grave of Hannah Senesh, who made Aliyah in her teenage years and then volunteered to parachute into Yugoslavia to save many Hungarian Jews from deportation to German death camps. However, at the Hungarian border, she was captured and tortured and, since she refused to admit any details to her mission, eventually killed. Senesh was also a wonderful poet so as we stood by her grave, we sang her poem, "Eli, Eli" ("My God, My God.") 

Very close by to Har Herzl is the headquarters of the World Zionist Organization where we had been invited for a talk that day. The article we read was entitled, "The 29th or November: 2084 New Israel and Palestine." Pretty much the article talks about Israelis resettling in Australia because the violence between the Muslim countries and Israel in the Middle East had gone too far and was highly impoverished. The article talks about how, when the Israelis immigrate to Australia (the New Zionist Homeland), they start to build up the countryside and forget about the Aboriginal Australian people and so the Aboriginal Liberation Organization (A.L.O.) is born. While the conversation and text were interesting, it just seemed like an excuse for the way the Palestinians have been affected by Israel. As in, wherever Israel would have been, it would have looked the same, and that Israeli Jews aren't racist against Palestinians because the same development would have occurred anywhere. To me it honestly just seemed like a lot of BS.  

The peulot we had during the final week were some of the most thought provoking peulot I've ever had and I went through a brief period (about three weeks) of freaking out about my college choice. Although I am very excited to go to Macalester, we had just had a peulah run for us on what it meant to be the hardcore of the movement and specifically what it means to be the hardcore in the years immediately following Workshop. All in all it came down to living in a Habo community so that you can help run a ken and work on outreach in the local Jewish communities. At Macalester, I will be alone (in terms of Habos) and while yes, I can make an effort to do out reach, the closest Machaneh to Minneapolis-St.Paul is about at the minimum a twelve hour drive meaning that it's going to be a lot harder to push for families to send their kids to Tavor compared to the Jewish camps in Wisconsin that are only about four hours away. But I've realized that it's okay if we don't get more kids to sign up because there are other ways to reach out to the community and strive to educate on socialism, social justice, and Israel. 

That was my conclusion to Boneh, then I hopped on a bus to Kibbutz Ravid, with eleven others in my kvutza and one Brit, and was off to explore labor Zionism in actualization. 

Catching Up: Part 1

Wow! My life has been very busy recently! Two weeks ago our guest speaker was a man in his forties from the Dror Yisrael movement (the adult movement of graduates from Hanoar Ha'Oved--Habonim Dror's sister movement). He spoke to us about the structure in which he lives his life. He started on the basic level: he as an individual. He explained to us that he is an educator on his kibbutz and he lives in a kvutza (second level) of about 20 people (including children). This kvutza lives on one floor of a building and each floor contains a different kvutza. There are in total about nine floors and about 120 people who are the residents of the kibbutz (third level). Next he talked about the Dror Yisrael movement throughout Israel (the forth level). Then he moved on to the fifth level of all the different socialist movements in Israel. His final level (before everyone in the entire world) was world Jewry. He believes that in order for world change to occur all of these levels must initiate the change, and he believes this change can only begin if started within Israel. I definitely found his thoughts fascinating even though I didn't agree. I personally don't see why change just only involve Jews. Yes, socialism has played a major role within Jews' lives for many, many years, but Jews are not the only people who believe in equality for every human being, and for the entire world to recognize this, the more people who unite in this effort for change, the better. 

The following day we all hopped on a bus to Rishon L'Zion (the city in which my kvutza will be living starting in late December). We were dropped off at a huge shopping center and movie theatre, and when we entered, we were completely surrounded with screens flashing the Habonim Dror Semel. There, we met up with Habonim Dror Olami (Worldly). That dinner was hands down the best meal we have had so far on Workshop. Handmade pizza was being created before our eyes, a delicious salad with pear, pecans, and cranberries was constantly being replenished, and the desserts (including carrot cake and fruit salad) were a lovely end to our meal. Masa had given Habonim Dror a grant for all of the gap year chanichim to do "recreational activities." So, The Habonim Dror rakazim (coordinators) had organized for all the Workshop and Shnat participants to attend a showing of the movie, "The Good Lie". The movie follows a group of "The Lost Boys" of Sudan who were orphaned during the civil war through their struggles and their triumphs in adjusting to their lives after escaping Sudan. It features Reese Witherspoon and a number of Sudanese refugees and was a very touching film. 

A couple of days later, the Workshoppers and the Brits took a day trip to Zikhron Ya'akov and Kibbutz Yifat to learn about the First, Second, and Third Aliyot. Entering Zikhron, I immediately noticed a difference compared to every other Israeli city I had been in. Zikhron felt and looked very European. It turns out that during the wave of the First Aliyah, the new Jewish immigrants had begun working Eretz (the land of) Israel, but after a bit of time there, the settlers realized they were not well enough equipped to continue their labor, as their children were dying left and right. A wealthy European offered up his land and some money for these Jews to create their Jewish homeland in Argentina. The Jews refused. But, another wealthy man came along, this one a Parisian, Rothschild. He offered to give these Jews money and jobs if they created "another Paris" in Israel-- Zikhron Ya'akov. Zikhron Ya'akov directly translates to "Remembering Jacob" which was the name of the father of Rothschild. Rothschild set up vineyards and wineries throughout the city for which the Jews worked. Walking around the city a bit there still seems to be a large business in winery. 

From Zikhron, we traveled to The Pioneer Settlement Museum on Kibbutz Yifat to learn about the Second and Third Aliyah (the late nineteenth century to the early twentieth). Unlike those of the First Aliyah, the chalutzim (pioneers) of the Second and Third, were determined to live their life in Eretz Israel according to their ideology, no matter how hard life got. These chalutzim drained swamps, dug ditches, built roads, and worked the land. They lived in three person tents, cleaned in communal showers, ate in a chadar ochel, and wore communal clothing. This excursion made me wonder how the Second and Third Aliyot were able to succeed where the First failed. Perhaps the chalutzim of the Second and Third were more determined to live idealistically, had learned from the failure of the First Aliyah, or didn't face the same extent of the difficulties the First had... Or a combination of these thoughts and others. Whatever they did worked, and so began the making of Aliyot for Labor Zionist reasons.

The next day we all traveled to a seminar center near Tel Aviv where we met up again with Habonim Dror Olami (specifically the shnat programs from Australia, Germany, the Netherlands, New Zealand, North America, South America, South Africa, and UK). We began a two day long seminar--the Rabin Seminar--on Peace and Democracy. We were broken down into groups of about 20 people. We discussed many, many thoughts related to peace. We read many texts including a couple of Rabin's speeches. We also read two statements: one was denying Zionism and the other denying Palestinian Nationalism. There is validity and issues in both statements, but I think that delegitimizing others in order to legitimize your own beliefs is a very destructive thought and does not exist on the road to peace. 

A major aspect to this seminar was defining shalom (the Hebrew word for peace) and saying, "Yes, the dictionary definition might define peace as meaning quiet, tranquility, harmony, the absence of conflict, but is that truly what shalom means?" I believe it is important for us to understand peace in the way it was defined in our choveret (booklet).

"Shalom is not the absence of conflict. It comes from the root word shalem which means complete or whole. It is also related to the word lehashlim which means 'to restore' or 'to complete.' Shalom doesn't just need quiet between people, it demands an understanding of responsibility for the idea that we cannot be complete without it. It means responsibility for how we treat others, for how as a community, as a society, as a nation we are working towards restoring the world to a state of justice." 

We spent quite a bit of time during the seminar pondering ways to work towards peace. First we identified the major social and political issues. The social issues we thought of included ignorance/blind following, racism, religious attachment and extremism, bystander effect, clinging to Jewish Law, and fear. The political ones were settlements/right to return, Jerusalem, recognition of a Jewish state, violent responses to terrorism instead of negotiation, and international relations. The two major solutions to all these many, many problems were education and social welfare meaning that the Israeli government stops giving subsidies for Jewish settlement in the West Bank and stops making the neighborhoods (schools, etc) better in the settlements in the West Bank than in Israel. 

We discussed quite a bit about how Israel is perceived by the different Jewish communities from which we come. Many of the South Africans and Australians said that the Jews of their community are very pro-Israel no matter what and that the members of the movement from these countries are seen as self hating Jews and are looked down upon. It was upsetting, and definitely more extreme than the Jewish communities in which I've had interactions in my life. But, speaking hopefully, I guess it all comes back to education. 

Later that evening we attended the Rabin Rally in Tel Aviv. Ten out of the twelve Israel youth groups were present. We were surrounded by a sea of blue chultzot (shirts)--an identifier that you are part of a movement. We heard a speech by the President of Israel, by the mother of one of the three boys who was kidnapped and killed this past summer, by a famous leftist actress, and others. It was a very special and hopeful experience. However, the events that have been occurring during this past month have definitely left me a lot less hopeful. 

I really hope that very soon this country will realize that peace is the only answer. 

P.S. Sorry it took me a long time to update my blog. I've been quite busy and I plan to write another entry soon because this is nowhere near to being caught up with the month of November. Thanks for reading, though!

Hadracha Seminar

Sunday and Monday of this past week we had a seminar on Hadracha (literally defined as "guidance", but colloquially understood to mean "education"). Sunday we talked a lot about the difference between the terms "schooling" and "education". We read a piece entitled Education in Dialogue by John Schostak. This text explains that schooling "is a process of moulding and fashioning minds and behavior according to interests and beliefs of some particular group". On the other hand, education is "the potential to challenge and to suspend all such vested interests, and beliefs." In schooling, binaries are employed. For example, "right" and "wrong", "facts" and non facts, "good" and "bad". This can often force people to feel the need to memorize instead of actually learn.

In the text, the author references the "locus of power". In the context of schooling, the "locus of power" is external to the child/student. The adult "defines and imposes" the ideas. The author says, "And of course, adults do not just freely define and impose what they believe to be best. Rather, it is those in power who define the policies." Whereas, in education, the "locus of power" is within the individual, and others (child or adult) assist in "drawing out" the interests, potential, and creativity of that individual as the individual  reflects on the world about. Education often challenges "traditional forms of thinking and doing prescribed by the processes of schooling, the culture of a given society, and so on." Schostak concludes that education can be dangerous, with which I definitely agree. 

In school for example, most students are allowed to think outside of the box, but not too outside the box; not to the degree that societal expectations are no longer met. Here's the reality, school is controlled by society, so, in school, when you take consumer economics or something like that, you learn about capitalist economies. You don't learn about socialist economies, or, if you do, it is often portrayed in a negative way. 

After considering these two approaches to learning and development I have realized that I am pretty lucky because I feel that my Highschool experience was, for the most part, an educational one and not one focused on schooling. 

From now on in this blog post, when I refer to education it will be in the traditional sense of the word, not by the definition of Schostak. 

While the peulah I spoke of above took up a major part of the seminar, the overarching theme was formal versus informal education. Here's how I define the two: Formal education is generally classroom based; it revolves around testing and grades to determine how much information a student has retained; it involves an adult teaching students from a hierarchical position. Informal education usually happens outside of a classroom setting; students often sit in circles and there may be an older person asking questions to prompt thought, but not so as too sway the students to think a specific way. I personally see benefits to both methods of learning, especially because children think in different ways. However, there lies an issue, the schools that most of us grow up in and attend, utilize formal education. 

My major qualm with formal education is the grading. I live my life striving for a socialist society and human equality. The minute a child understands that our current schooling system is inherently competitive, he/she has entered the world of capitalism. I guess that makes my stance on education more complicated than simply, "I see the benefits of both." But I'm still figuring out what my thoughts are on education. 

To enhance our understanding of informal education, our mechanichim ran a few different stations for us.  

The first one that I attended had to do with learning how to write a peulah. We start with our goals for our chanichim (students/campers), consider our method (so as to appeal to different learning types), write some questions for the sikkum (ending discussion/wrap-up) keeping in mind: what do we our chanichim to take away from this peulah. 

The next station I attended was on making collective decisions. We went over some common and stereotypical personality types and discussed what we could do to make each personality type feel most comfortable in the setting as well as help such individuals to be self aware, etc. 

The final station focused on discipline and how to handle children who behave in ways that limit others' educational experiences or their own. We discussed many different methods for many different situations, and I definitely found this station very useful and thoughtful.

I really enjoyed this seminar and, though I learned a lot, I now have many questions that I'm sure I will discuss and ponder in the near and far future. 

Sukkot Tiyul!

For those of you who don't know, Sukkot is a Jewish festival celebrated in the fall. The holiday, which is a week long and began at sundown Wednesday, Oct. 7, commemorates the forty years the Jews spent wandering in the wilderness, after receiving the Torah on Mt. Sinai.

Sukkot literally means "booths." So, on that Wednesday, we gathered the fixings to build our own sukkah (definition: singular of sukkot). There are three requirements for building a sukkah: It must have at least three walls, be constructed of durable materials that can withstand wind, and the roof must be covered with s’chach (definition: product of the earth that is no longer attached to the earth). We had been provided poles to construct our sukkah frame and we took our bed sheets to hang up on three sides acting as walls. We were able to borrow a machete from a kibbutznik and used it to cut the dead leaves off our palm tree in our yard which we used as our roof covering.

It was really amazing to walk around Ein Dor and see all the different types of sukkot the families had constructed.

In the spirit of Sukkot, we had our first tiyul (definition: trip/hike). We traveled to the Golan Heights, located in the very north of Israel and bordered directly by Syria and Lebanon. Our tiyul lasted four days and three nights, and it was the first time we met the Australian, New Zealand, and South African shnat (definition: year of/gap year) groups in the Habonim Dror movement. I believe I have failed to mention earlier that we have been living next door on Ein Dor to the British (and one German) shnat group for the past four weeks. So, although they were also hiking with us on our tiyul, the eight of them were all familiar company to us. There were eighty 18/19 year old movement members in total. It was an amazing opportunity to hike alongside them and learn about how their kvutza process has been. The shnat groups from south of the equator began their year here in Israel when summer was just finishing for them, meaning they arrived towards the end of January.

Two of our hikes were half-day hikes lasting only about four hours, but our other two hikes were double that. On the two longer days we had the opportunity to go swimming in pools that had formed under waterfalls. The first time I jumped in I felt my entire body clench together from the coldness of the water, and it was pretty hard to breathe. But it was so much fun anyway. Our two shorter hikes were through different streams and at some points the streams got so deep that we had to swim because our feet couldn't touch the ground.

During the hikes we would stop and talk a little bit. Once we spoke of the people who originally lived in the Golan region (Syrians, Arabs, Druze, and Jews); another time we read two quotes by Rabbi Eleazar Ha-Kappar about Chavruta (definition: a pair of people studying Jewish texts together) on the sage of blessed memory. We discussed the two quotes in (you guessed it) pairs. The first quote focused on four things that Jews should always do: avoid sexual misconduct, not speak lashon hara (definition: evil tongue), speak in Hebrew, and keep their Hebrew names. The second quote focused on the needed unity of the Jewish people. I personally found this quote more interesting and provocative to discuss with my New Zealander partner. We talked about whether or not we think it is important for the Jewish people to be unified. We felt strongly that we should be, but knew that it seems like an impossible desire. Then we talked about how being on tiyul with Jews from around the world emphasized the unity of the Jewish people, as our discussions from days earlier made us aware of our overlap in opinions about Judaism and Israel.

When we returned to the campgrounds each night we had a hearty bowl of vegetable soup waiting for us, a delicious dinner, and a night of relaxing activities planned for us. It was very neat meeting other English speakers in our movement from around the world, and, in about three weeks, we will have the Rabin seminar with them, too!

It's been a long and exhausting week. I am definitely looking forward to going back to our regular Boneh schedule. I'm excited to learn about this week's module and get back to my avodah (definition: work) of collecting ashpah (definition:trash) and general landscaping!

Hope you enjoy these pictures from my tiyul!

Chaggim on the Kibbutz

Within the past ten days I have observed two chaggim (definition: holidays) on Ein Dor. Rosh Hashanah (definition: head of the year; the Jewish New Year) began at sundown two Wednesday's ago. Many of my friends left the kibbutz to celebrate with their friends or family or to experience the chag (definition: singular of chaggim) in Jerusalem. I and seven others decided to stay here on Ein Dor. After most people left, we went into Afula where we bought many delicious fruits for snacking and different vegetables with which to cook. I tried fresh figs for the first time, and wow, have I been missing out. We returned home at four and began to get ready for our Rosh Hashanah dinner.

At seven, we congregated and walked together to a grassy area outside of the chadar. There, a stage had been set up with rows upon rows of elegantly prepared table settings. The tables soon filled with the kibbutz families. People of all ages had joined in this special celebration. The dinner included rikudim (definition: dances) and shirim (definition: songs) performed by different kibbutz members. My favorite presentation was a dance done by a group of children in which they emphasized the rhythm of the song through wooden sticks and plastic buckets. Then, dinner was served. The meats were absolutely delicious. Brisket with mushrooms and baked chicken in a prune and dried apricot sauce. I had my fill of gefilte fish and raisin challah as well. Following the meal there was a short movie produced by the kibbutz highlighting the past year. I recognized many faces from the chadar and from just walking around. After the film finished, I, along with my friend Ronnie, joined kibbutz members in rikud (definition: singular of rikudim). I knew a couple of the dances from rikud at camp, but most of them I simply learned on the spot. A bit later trays of honey and apples cake were brought out and we enjoyed our fair share of that, too. The rikud was definitely my favorite part of the night though!

The next day was pretty low key. We did some art projects in the morning to decorate our bayit (definition: house). We made a delicious pasta sauce with basil, garlic, mushrooms, and tomatoes from the previous day in Afula and in the afternoon Ronnie and I went over to the bayit of the mechanichim to talk with our mechaniah (definition: singular of mechanichim), Zak, about the Shmith. The Shmita occurs once every seven years and is known as the sabbatical year. The Torah says that during this year you are to let your land rest (specifically the land of Israel) and that you may only take from your land what grows naturally. One mustn't cultivate it. What the land produces without cultivation may be eaten by any person or animal, but sharing of the naturally grown fruits is very important.

We talked about the relevance of the Shmita in our lives today.  First we talked about the land. There are a small portion of farmers in Israel today who observe the Shmita. If they do, they are allotted some money by the government to sustain themselves during the year, but it is a loss of income for most which is why so few participate. Though this is the literal observance of the Shmita, I do not find this meaningful. Zak, Ronnie and I began to discuss different ways that the Shmita could be more relevant to our beliefs. Since this year is representative of resting the land and equality, I suggested that Israel as a nation should try to spend the year in peace and allow the land to be used by whom ever is in need of it. We transitioned to speaking about resting in general. There is a rabbi in New York who suggested that for this Shmita, individuals should rest from technology-- not to say people should completely give up technology, but perhaps they could find a period during the day where no technology would be used. An interesting thought, but I found the idea a bit of a stretch.

Here's the thing, the Shmita is very specific to the land of Israel. I am fortunate enough to be in the land of Israel during the Shmita year. So, what am I personally resting from by being here on Workshop? Many things. I am resting from individual money which allows for equity and consciousness; I am resting from formal education which allows for self discovery, creativity, and a different perspective on learning; I am resting from dependence and parental authority which allows for independence, making my own, and choosing how I want to live.

Last night marked the beginning of Yom Kippur (definition: Day of Atonement). Building up to Yom Kippur, our madrichim and mechanichim ran different peulot on forgiveness, fasting, and change. This is one of the first times I've truly thought about the reasons for my fast. I considered what the chag would be like if I didn't fast, and I decided that fasting is part of the reason that Yom Kippur is special and that the fast adds symbolic meaning to the day. The pain of the hunger makes me consider how my actions throughout the year may have caused others pain. The fast allows me self reflection time as well, but in a way that would be different had I a full belly.

After a tasty dinner of pasta and salad, ten of us attended the reform Kol Nidrei (definition: literal: "all vows"; understood to mean: opening prayer on the eve of Yom Kippur and the name of the service) service on the kibbutz. I followed along the best I could given the service was entirely in Hebrew. The only shir (definition: singular of shirim) I recognized was able to join in on was Avinu Malkeinu (definition: "Our father, our God"). But it was hands down the shortest Jewish service I have ever attended, lasting barely 45 min.

Once we'd all returned from services, our entire kvutza headed outside where we each wrote a letter to a person that we were seeking his or her forgiveness. Then, we gathered together and about half the kvutza shared their letters. At the end, we were all raw with emotion. Seeing so many people so vulnerable made my heart ache, but the honesty will deepen our understanding of each other and create a closer kvutza.

This morning, I woke up early to attend morning prayer at the orthodox services (no other services were available). When the three of us walked in there were only four men, so we could not start prayer. Thankfully, within a half-hour, about seven more men arrived and a minyan could be made. We stayed for a little while longer, but found it quite difficult to follow along, so we left and enjoyed the peaceful walk home. The rest of the day was spent relaxing including reading, painting, and sleeping a little bit. I attended the evening reform service which I found quite calming and came home to a delicious break fast.

L'shana tova (definition: to a good year)!

So Many New Beginnings!

Many things have happened since my last post. So, I'm going to start at last Thursday,  September 11th. Thursday morning, we awoke at 5 am in order to begin our hike of Har (definition: mountain) Tavor. After lots of perspiration and a couple liters of water, we made it to the top where we ate lunch and admired the grand monastery. We returned from Har Tavor at 3 pm, and, myself along with the other gizbarim, made a trip to the "nearby" city of Afula to open our kupah bank account. This began our first weekend on the kibbutz. The following two days were spent relaxing. We went swimming at the kibbutz pool, played many rounds of Set, and enjoyed watching some movies.

Sunday was the beginning of our first official week of Boneh. The day started with us splitting into two groups, our shiyurim (definition: classes). Each week of Boneh has a different theme which are referred to as modules. The module for the week of 9/14 was My Jewish Community. Many of the conversations examined being a secular Jew vs. a religious Jew, and we discussed how Jewish secularism has changed in America.

For example, during the early 1900s being a secular Jew often meant that you sent your kids to a school where they learned academic subjects, Yiddish language and literature, Jewish history, and social justice ideals. It meant being a member of Jewish sports teams, unions, and occupational organizations. But in the 1950s Joseph McCarthy opened a series of congressional hearings so as to rid the country of Communists. April Rosenblum, a writer, editor, and activist, stated, "They [Jews] became perhaps the most noticeable ethnic group that fell under hysterical anti-Communist scrutiny..." This was a turning point for American Jewry. Jewish communal activities became rooted in religion rather than the culture.

Within My Jewish Community module, we also discussed assimilation, anti-Semitism, and Israel. All of which are directly related to the Jewish diaspora. This past Thursday, we traveled to Tel Aviv to visit the Diaspora Museum. There, we discussed the destruction of the first temple and how that led to the beginning of the diaspora. We talked about how Jews formed close knit communities all around the world, even in China! The museum concludes with the thought that the diaspora is considered over when all the Jews around the world return to Israel. However, the museum is in a phase of reconstruction as this thought does not depict reality. Jewish communities outside of Israel are still thriving today.

Now, to back track a few days. On Sunday afternoon, after our shiyur (definition: singular of shiyurim), we began a new addition to the Boneh portion of Workshop, Projects. During this time Workshoppers are meant to find something of interest that is related to the movement and create a resource for Habonim Dror North America (HDNA). I am working with one other person on compiling articles and carrying out interviews on what it means to be leftist when it comes to Israel today. We will be examining what it means to be part of a Zionist movement, but also one that focuses on social justice and is leftist. One of the other groups is examining Israel and sustainability. Yet another group is creating two resource books on LGBTQ within the movement. One is a gender and sexuality educational compilation and the other is a book of personal narratives. But there's many more projects being done as well. I'm very excited to see everyone's finished projects.

We began our first Jewish Civilizations course this past week. I chose the Jewish Literature course.  So far, we have talked about different theological texts and examined Jewish short stories. We have also discussed what makes a story Jewish.

Following Jewish Civ, we started Power courses. These are similar to chuggim (definition: interest groups). The one I have been attending is about evil. We have looked at evil in the Bible (Eve and the snake; Cain and Abel) and we have discussed the Stanley Milgram's shock experiment (interesting stuff, look it up).

Our Israeli Society course this past week focused on the Knesset (the Israeli parliament). We learned about the stance on many different topics of many different political groups. I also had the opportunity to take an online quiz to determine the political group with which I most closely relate. I got Hadash. The main policies and ideals of Hadash include...

~ Supporting the evacuation of all Israeli settlements, a complete withdrawal by Israel from all territories that have been occupied as a result of the Six Day War, and the establishment of a Palestinian state
~ Being active on social and environmental issues
~ seeing itself as a non-Zionist party, keeping with a Marxist opposition to nationalism

Unfortunately, of the 120 members of the Knesset, only two members are from Hadash.

That brings us back to Thursday and Tel Aviv. After the Diaspora Museum, we had a delicious falafel and baklava lunch in a nearby shuk (definition: market), and we concluded the day with a tour of a graffitied area of the city. Intricate pictures, blurbs, and political references covered the walls.

And that concludes the week.

Rosh Hashanah (definition: New Year) is in just two days, and I'm very much looking forward to the chag (definition: holiday)!