So I returned. And I knew I was going back, as soon as the plane touched down on English soil.
Or, to be pedantic about it, I was pretty sure I was returning to Israel as the plane flew over Tel-Aviv. I was fairly certain when we got to Heathrow, and more so when we were driving home. I was decided as soon as I spent the next day in England, but I gave it two weeks or so, in case this changed, of the feeling wore off.
It didn't, of course.
Monday 12 October 2009
Monday 5 October 2009
Days Forty Nineish - Fifty Six, or thereabouts.
These following entries (for the same reasons as the compounded/highly edited entries of Days 42-9, below) will focus more on the main (ever dramatic) incidents of my final week as 'The Mitnadevet':
1. The Drowning. OR - 'The Day I Proved I Didn't Know My Limits and So Nearly Died'
Wednesday - NJ and I decided to go to Ashdod, to meet with her friend, 'R', where we went to the beach. Just before leaving, we'd missed the bus because we were debating for over an hour whether or not we should bring our swimming stuff. We did not, and our first stop in Ashdod was the beach. I went swimming in my dress, which was a fun first.
TPALSS, 1. I don't like swimming in sea water, 2. I thought, 'meh, why not give it a go', 3. I didn't realise how deep it was, and got smacked by several waves, and pulled under by the undercurrent. It was surprisingly very very strong, and on trying to reach the bottom to regain my footing, I realised I couldn't, and started screaming. I don't really remember much else.
Apparantly I scrambled up R (like a CAT!), who is a very good, very frum boy, and he took me back to shore and tried to get as much (non-salt) water down me. In between choking and trying to drink, I was trying to ask what happened and furiously apologising. I felt so sick, crap and embarrassed!!!
Needless to say, I was absolutely exhausted by the experience and so had an early night, although I slept fitfully, waking up either because I had a horrible flashback or nightmare, or needing to go to the loo.
2. Thursday - 'The Hallucination Incident'/'Our Crazy Day of Crazy Crazy Shizzle'
Still knackered from the events of the day before, I took the day off work and rested. At 3pm or thereabouts, NJ woke me up from a very deep sleep to tell me that Boston guy, the ex-mitnadev, had returned to the kibbutz!
Why, I was trying to wonder, would Boston guy do that? He didn't like us, and drove me mad towards the end of his stay, convinced I secretly wanted to sleep with him, and telling everyone this. However, newly arisen from this heavy, salt-watery tasting slumber and uneasy in the heat, I felt really zoned out, and was convinced this was all some kind of strange semi-cheese dream. I told her that was a crap joke, and she shouldn't have woken me up for THAT, but she insisted. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, which i can sometimes do if extremely tired and hungry. I asked, the immortal line,
'So where is this hallucination of ours, then?' and she said, 'right behind you.'
And standing right behind me, only a split second after I'd turned my back on the kibbutz, was Boston.
It couldn't have been real - it was all too quick and perfectly timed, and I'd just woken up...and we'd been alone on the kibbutz together (me and NJ) for over a week. We concluded he was a hallucination, and we didn't see any more of him for two days.Ergo - hallucination.
If he was real, we thought, surely he would've said sthg to us, or we would have seen him around...but no. Then we got a bus to TLV - within 2 minutes of getting to the stop. We always have to wait at least 20 or so minutes. So we concluded that the day before we had most likely both drowned, and now we were in some crazy parallel universe, much like Limbo or somthing, and if Boston was really there it was so we could all ask for each other's mechila before the Yamim Noraim. Or I was still asleep.
He was nowhere to be found when we got back.
And Aussie guy came back to the kibbutz with us!!!! :D
3. The Shabbaton-Beit HaCar Incident / Shakira the Dead Goat
For Shabbat we had 12 ppl or so - NJ's two mates, a London girl who was still on Kibbutz but we hadn't seen much of, me and my mate, Aussie guy and our apparant hallucinated Boston guy, and a few others.
Deciding to show them all the Beit Hacar, on Shabbat we went and I set to proudly showing them around.
All was going swimmingly until the following conversation:
A voice: 'He mehta! He mehta!' [she's dead, she's dead]
Me: 'mi mehta?' [who's dead?]
banot sherut: 'l'eze!!l'eze mehta!' [the goat, the goat's dead]
Me: 'Efo? Efo l'eze?' [Where's the goat?]
banot sherut: 'Shakira! B'Pinot Lituf!' [Shakira, in the petting zoo]
and I turned around. And sure enough, Shakira the goat was slumped into the dog's hole with her tongue lolling to the side, her eyes rolled heavenwards and flies everywhere, apparantly very very dead.
It felt a bit like the 'Dead Parrot' sketch. I felt sick but remained calm.
TPALSS, I left London in July with a bag which weighed 10kg. Despite not using half of the clothes and stuff I packed, my suitcase had managed to expand somewhat enormously during my stay on kibbutz. I canlt think how. Anyhoo, R from Ashdod came to join us, and bought me a pizza to say goodbye, and then helped me repack my case and even zipped it up for me whole I sat on it, bewildered by this feeling of crazy remorse overtaking me.
J from the P famille took me to the airport, alongside NJ and R. J and I had a quick goodbye, but it was definitely a 'see you soon' rather than a 'goodbye forever' I feel.
After checking in my bag (all done by R, bless!) the three of us headed to the departure gate, towards McDonalds, and I couldn't believe this was happening to me. It could've been the pizza they forced down me, it could've been the general apprehension re: leaving, but I felt incredibly sick, as if I'd swollen a whole load more of salt water just that minute. Then I realised that actually, rather than throwing up, I was about to burst into crazy roaring and screaming tears. I bought a McFlurry - my first!!! - and ate it quickly, before i could start crying. I hate crying in public. It's a shame that my first McFlurry is eaten purely as a distractionary measure, but still.
Then Aussie guy showed up, and we all sat chatting for a bit. My flight was at 7.20pm, and it was 6pm. NJ and R left to go back to kibbutz and Ashdod, and Aussie and I chatted and I tried not to throw up or cry until 7pm, when I needed to go catch the flight to London.
And it was strange. For a minute, I was fully intending to not go to the Boarding Gate. I could easily get my bag back from the plane, and leave the airport, go with Aussie to gte some Power Espresso Vodka and sit drinking it on the miklat, live on the kibbutz for a bit and then get a job outside and gradually earn enough to move, and make Aliya at some point in all this and then -
Aussie, who can (after two months of being with me pretty much the whole time) read my face effortlessly, said something like: 'I know what you're thinking, but you need to go to the gate.' And I couldn't say anything at all to that, but I could feel my face getting red and turning into the resemblance of, what my mother calls 'a constipated muppet', and then I started crying a lot, into his shoulder. Oops.
Then I said goodbye, gathered up my stuff and went through hand luggage security, and arrived at my gate ten minutes later, just on time. I don't see how anyone needs 2 hours to get through all that.
I felt drained. I couldn't believe I was forcing myself onto this plane, I felt so dizzy and sick, and like it wasn't me moving my legs. But I managed to get onto the plane,and switched off my Israeli phone, and sat in my admittedly very comfy and roomy seat, depressed and feeling half-dead as ever.
And as we flew over Israel, and I saw the lights of Tel-Aviv by night, I felt an actual physical, cramp-like pain in my chest, and I had a really bad headache. Then my seat neighbour started talking to me - and although she was lovely - a (non-Jewish) PhD student from Sheffield who'd been in Haifa for a Chemistry conference and we talked for the entire journey, including a point where I tried to explain why that Charedi person didn;t have curly-wurleys, and that one did, but that meanwhile I was also religious but not like them, etc etc, I couldn't help but think, 'How the hell am I going to survive chutz-la'aretz?'
When I got off the plane, and saw my brother hobbling towards me on crutches (he'd broken his ankle), i was quite happy to see him as I'd missed him terribly. However, after hugging me, I was somewhat perturbed by his choice of greeting - 'What the hell's happened to you?!'
And I agree - it must've been quite the shock to see me come back tanned, my hair leonine and cascading down my back with a gingerish-tinge, a nose-piercing, crazy-Aladdin pants and schlepping a drum.
And that was the end of my trip.
For now.
1. The Drowning. OR - 'The Day I Proved I Didn't Know My Limits and So Nearly Died'
Wednesday - NJ and I decided to go to Ashdod, to meet with her friend, 'R', where we went to the beach. Just before leaving, we'd missed the bus because we were debating for over an hour whether or not we should bring our swimming stuff. We did not, and our first stop in Ashdod was the beach. I went swimming in my dress, which was a fun first.
TPALSS, 1. I don't like swimming in sea water, 2. I thought, 'meh, why not give it a go', 3. I didn't realise how deep it was, and got smacked by several waves, and pulled under by the undercurrent. It was surprisingly very very strong, and on trying to reach the bottom to regain my footing, I realised I couldn't, and started screaming. I don't really remember much else.
Apparantly I scrambled up R (like a CAT!), who is a very good, very frum boy, and he took me back to shore and tried to get as much (non-salt) water down me. In between choking and trying to drink, I was trying to ask what happened and furiously apologising. I felt so sick, crap and embarrassed!!!
Needless to say, I was absolutely exhausted by the experience and so had an early night, although I slept fitfully, waking up either because I had a horrible flashback or nightmare, or needing to go to the loo.
2. Thursday - 'The Hallucination Incident'/'Our Crazy Day of Crazy Crazy Shizzle'
Still knackered from the events of the day before, I took the day off work and rested. At 3pm or thereabouts, NJ woke me up from a very deep sleep to tell me that Boston guy, the ex-mitnadev, had returned to the kibbutz!
Why, I was trying to wonder, would Boston guy do that? He didn't like us, and drove me mad towards the end of his stay, convinced I secretly wanted to sleep with him, and telling everyone this. However, newly arisen from this heavy, salt-watery tasting slumber and uneasy in the heat, I felt really zoned out, and was convinced this was all some kind of strange semi-cheese dream. I told her that was a crap joke, and she shouldn't have woken me up for THAT, but she insisted. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, which i can sometimes do if extremely tired and hungry. I asked, the immortal line,
'So where is this hallucination of ours, then?' and she said, 'right behind you.'
And standing right behind me, only a split second after I'd turned my back on the kibbutz, was Boston.
It couldn't have been real - it was all too quick and perfectly timed, and I'd just woken up...and we'd been alone on the kibbutz together (me and NJ) for over a week. We concluded he was a hallucination, and we didn't see any more of him for two days.Ergo - hallucination.
If he was real, we thought, surely he would've said sthg to us, or we would have seen him around...but no. Then we got a bus to TLV - within 2 minutes of getting to the stop. We always have to wait at least 20 or so minutes. So we concluded that the day before we had most likely both drowned, and now we were in some crazy parallel universe, much like Limbo or somthing, and if Boston was really there it was so we could all ask for each other's mechila before the Yamim Noraim. Or I was still asleep.
He was nowhere to be found when we got back.
And Aussie guy came back to the kibbutz with us!!!! :D
3. The Shabbaton-Beit HaCar Incident / Shakira the Dead Goat
For Shabbat we had 12 ppl or so - NJ's two mates, a London girl who was still on Kibbutz but we hadn't seen much of, me and my mate, Aussie guy and our apparant hallucinated Boston guy, and a few others.
Deciding to show them all the Beit Hacar, on Shabbat we went and I set to proudly showing them around.
All was going swimmingly until the following conversation:
A voice: 'He mehta! He mehta!' [she's dead, she's dead]
Me: 'mi mehta?' [who's dead?]
banot sherut: 'l'eze!!l'eze mehta!' [the goat, the goat's dead]
Me: 'Efo? Efo l'eze?' [Where's the goat?]
banot sherut: 'Shakira! B'Pinot Lituf!' [Shakira, in the petting zoo]
and I turned around. And sure enough, Shakira the goat was slumped into the dog's hole with her tongue lolling to the side, her eyes rolled heavenwards and flies everywhere, apparantly very very dead.
It felt a bit like the 'Dead Parrot' sketch. I felt sick but remained calm.
4. The End of Kibbutz Days / The Airport
TPALSS, I left London in July with a bag which weighed 10kg. Despite not using half of the clothes and stuff I packed, my suitcase had managed to expand somewhat enormously during my stay on kibbutz. I canlt think how. Anyhoo, R from Ashdod came to join us, and bought me a pizza to say goodbye, and then helped me repack my case and even zipped it up for me whole I sat on it, bewildered by this feeling of crazy remorse overtaking me.
J from the P famille took me to the airport, alongside NJ and R. J and I had a quick goodbye, but it was definitely a 'see you soon' rather than a 'goodbye forever' I feel.
After checking in my bag (all done by R, bless!) the three of us headed to the departure gate, towards McDonalds, and I couldn't believe this was happening to me. It could've been the pizza they forced down me, it could've been the general apprehension re: leaving, but I felt incredibly sick, as if I'd swollen a whole load more of salt water just that minute. Then I realised that actually, rather than throwing up, I was about to burst into crazy roaring and screaming tears. I bought a McFlurry - my first!!! - and ate it quickly, before i could start crying. I hate crying in public. It's a shame that my first McFlurry is eaten purely as a distractionary measure, but still.
Then Aussie guy showed up, and we all sat chatting for a bit. My flight was at 7.20pm, and it was 6pm. NJ and R left to go back to kibbutz and Ashdod, and Aussie and I chatted and I tried not to throw up or cry until 7pm, when I needed to go catch the flight to London.
And it was strange. For a minute, I was fully intending to not go to the Boarding Gate. I could easily get my bag back from the plane, and leave the airport, go with Aussie to gte some Power Espresso Vodka and sit drinking it on the miklat, live on the kibbutz for a bit and then get a job outside and gradually earn enough to move, and make Aliya at some point in all this and then -
Aussie, who can (after two months of being with me pretty much the whole time) read my face effortlessly, said something like: 'I know what you're thinking, but you need to go to the gate.' And I couldn't say anything at all to that, but I could feel my face getting red and turning into the resemblance of, what my mother calls 'a constipated muppet', and then I started crying a lot, into his shoulder. Oops.
Then I said goodbye, gathered up my stuff and went through hand luggage security, and arrived at my gate ten minutes later, just on time. I don't see how anyone needs 2 hours to get through all that.
I felt drained. I couldn't believe I was forcing myself onto this plane, I felt so dizzy and sick, and like it wasn't me moving my legs. But I managed to get onto the plane,and switched off my Israeli phone, and sat in my admittedly very comfy and roomy seat, depressed and feeling half-dead as ever.
And as we flew over Israel, and I saw the lights of Tel-Aviv by night, I felt an actual physical, cramp-like pain in my chest, and I had a really bad headache. Then my seat neighbour started talking to me - and although she was lovely - a (non-Jewish) PhD student from Sheffield who'd been in Haifa for a Chemistry conference and we talked for the entire journey, including a point where I tried to explain why that Charedi person didn;t have curly-wurleys, and that one did, but that meanwhile I was also religious but not like them, etc etc, I couldn't help but think, 'How the hell am I going to survive chutz-la'aretz?'
When I got off the plane, and saw my brother hobbling towards me on crutches (he'd broken his ankle), i was quite happy to see him as I'd missed him terribly. However, after hugging me, I was somewhat perturbed by his choice of greeting - 'What the hell's happened to you?!'
And I agree - it must've been quite the shock to see me come back tanned, my hair leonine and cascading down my back with a gingerish-tinge, a nose-piercing, crazy-Aladdin pants and schlepping a drum.
And that was the end of my trip.
For now.
Days Forty-Two- Forty Nine
Because so much happened in the last few days, these entries have been (somewhat lazily) hardcore edited and lumped together for the following reasons:
1) this period covers 13 pages of the notebook in which I first jotted it all down (in note form)
2) NJ (New Jersey) and I spent a lot of time together - entirely alone, the only mitnadvim left - on the kibbutz and most likely completely and utterly lost it. Hence there are interesting sketches, plans and strange tales which to this day I don't understand the meaning of entirely,
3) there seems to be a lot of strange details and stories about goats, ADD and the social dynamic amongst the madrichim in the Beit Hacar, much of which will be lost on the reading audience. Strangely, these factors all seem to interplay a lot. For their esoteric and idiosyncratic (not to mention frightening) nature, they have been either omitted or highly edited.
Wednesday - Hungarian and the Frenchie left the kibbutz to go start their Ulpan - the latter thank g-d, the former I'll miss. So for the first time EVER, the kibbutz fell completely silent. Silent that is, but for the sound of NJ. Together we discussed the differences between ADD and ADHD. So now I know!
We also learnt a new word in Hebrew - מעמי' - 'mummy' - the equivalent of 'babes' or whatever. However I did not know this. I explained to the culprit uttering this that, in English, 'mummy' is not a term of sexual endearment, and if it is used as such, it's actually more fetishistic. Yeuurrgghh. Of course, these occasions are when language barriers are the most funnest!
Thursday - a group of young Charedi boys visited the Beit Hacar today. The first point at which I decided I loathed them intensely was when the banot sherut (the girls doing their national service - sherut leumi - at the zoo) and I were forbidden to enter the zoo while the boys were in there, as weren't tzniut enough, incase we corrupted the boys' neshamot, possinbly with a hint of eye contact, or a smidgen of elbow (the actual 'ervah' of the arm was covered entirely, you see, as were all our lady lumps and bumps, by our baggy 'madrich' tshirts).
This was the second occasion in which I've seen uber-Charedim being crap with animals - in Har Nof, it was a regular (and horrific) occurence to see stray cats being kicked by Charedi children, and even sometimes the men and women. Sick. Anyhoo, this time, I wanted to check that my animals were being treated nicely and well, so I snuck in to wash my hands (which were covered in varnish anyway). What i saw was like some crazy hallucination:
The thirty or so boys in the petting cage (where i work regularly) were picking up and throwing the dogs at each other, which was disgusting enough, but then one of the boys picked up a goat (!!!) and, dancing and trying to push it above his tiny pre-pubescent head, began singing a highly strained version of had gadya. This led the other boys to stop throwing the dogs aroiund,a dn join hiim in forming a circle, with the boy holding the goat in the centre.
I looked to his teachers, hoping they'd have the common sense and decency to stop him. Did they f***. The teachers joined in, leading the dancing and singing louder than their pupils!
Absolutely horrified by this, i left myself into the cage and sat in the second pen, where the dogs go to cool down. As soon as I got in there, all of the dogs flocked to me, most of them shaking. Then, all of goats and sheep - who usually ignore me or at least don;t flock over - came into the second pen aswell. There were about 30 animals sitting with me, trying to gte away from the evil boys on the other side of the fence.
Declaring the pen 'assur' (forbidden), the boys then settled for trying to throw stones through the links in the fence, while I shouted at them to stop and their teachers encouraged them to continue.
Disgusting.
I thought it couldn't get any worse. But, about an hour or so later, after the second group had goneI let all the animals back into the amin pen, and checked them over. Then I noticed that the dog with the little bronw face wasn;t there.
I looked everywhere - all around the pen, all around the zoo - but it wasn't anywhere. then I noticed that, in the main pen, the hole that she'd been digging for the past two weeks (and which she liked to sleep down during visitng hours) had been covered up.
I considered for five minutes whether or not I would be actually crazy enough to dig - with my bare hands, like a dog - the hole up again. Then, thinking, 'ah why not?' i did. It took about 4 minutes to dig up - it was a very deep hole - and as I was digging, more and more of the madrichim were coming around to look at what the 'mitnadevet meshugat' (crazy volunteer girl) was doing.
Then, I saw a little brown face emerge, looking terrified and covered in dirt. I thought I was going to be sick, I was so shocked. We don't know how long it had been down there, but we checked it over and it seemed alright after an hour or so.
Later I saw some of the charedi boys' group go up to the baby donkey in the pen and throw dust into it's face, just to see what would happen, and lauhging, then I shooed them away, and they took to throwing stones at the separated and very cartzioty doggies.
The best bit of the day was when, finally realising it was time to go, the headteacher spoke over the intercom saying how great the day had been, how much fin they'd all had, and what kiddush hashem's they'd all been. I was hiding in the office, and i couldn;t help but laugh out loud at his lack of self-awareness. I know I'm no angel, but at least i can recognise when I'm being hypocritical and ridiculous.
Friday - I went to Haifa, to visit Aussie girl for Shabbat in Yemin Orde. It was great to see her!
Shabbat - YO is gorgeous. Really clean and friendly.
We had a lovely dinner and lunch in the cheder ochel with the kids, then Aussie and I went to Nir Etzion - a moshav across from YO and went o the zoo there. We met a 13 year old English-French-Israeli Charedi boy, who we talked to or about 45 minutes and who was absolutely charming and a true kiddush hashem. It just goes to show that my experiences with the charedim in the zoo but a few days before might have been horrific, but that I shouldn't generalise all Charedi behaviour by that.
During Shabbat I had a realisation - THE penny-dropping moment - to put a long story short ( hereafter abbreviated to 'tpalss'), I don't know if i can return to London and be ...'happy'(?) there - I've never in my life reached such a nice state of calmness, happiness and centrality, focus and balance as I have had on this trip, and it made me realise that, everything I thought was so great in London, or at least settled for - the crappy (and in hindsight highly unsuitable) relationships; so-called 'modern Orthodoxy', London style; stuff at home and my general life plans up unto this point (MA; Teach First; Teaching; marriage, kids, live in London etc etc etc) - it;s really not so great, nor how I want to live my life.
I don't want to do another year of uni, doing all the same things I have been doing for three years, reading and writing excessively while trying to keep it all together and seeing the weeks fall by without doing anything practical or significant; I don't want to marry some clone from the ghetto, have kids and settle in Hendon/Golders, send the kids to JFS/Hasmo and get caught up in the claustrophobia of the community; I. Don't. Want. Everyone. In. My. Face. Telling. Me. What. To. Do. The. Whole. Bloody. Time, then getting upset and hurt when I want to do something that I - yes, I - want to do, which doesn't necessarily benefit everyone, but it does benefit me (I am NOT that clever, but at least I know this and don't have to struggle through an entire year of MA just to prove I have a brain by having another graduation picture on the wall). Because it;s my life and I bloody well want to lead it and shape it according to what is best for me, and what will be best. In short, the space my mother left for my MA and PhD graduations pics on her 'simcha wall' will probably lay bare for a few years yet.
In short, I believe a gap year in Israel - volunteering and generally doing whatever I want to do, alone and totally free, is way more beneficial to my overall everything than any MA, at least for the meantime. I've never felt anything so strongly in my life - not saying that I'll make Aliya after that year off, but if it happens now, then it happens now.
I wonder how my parents and grandparents will take it. Think I'll keep that bit of news - like the nosepiercing - to myself for a bit. I've never felt so happy or so apprehensive. What a fantastic epiphany!
Sunday - came back to kibbutz aftee my amazing, thought-provoking Shabbat with Aussie in YO. My mate from the zoo and I fed the baby cows, which made us really hungry and so we went to Burger Ranch. Then I went to the ever-lovely and welcoming P famille to discuss my new plan, just to check I wasn't losing it or being stupid. They thought it was great.
Monday - went to Jeru to discuss shizzle with Nefesh B'Nefesh. they were located in kanfei nesharim - just a stone's throw away from my old stomping ground. Even in my happy state, just getting on the same busses, one stop up, having a coffee in a cafe i used to frequent etc etc - fermented weird and horrible recollections and feelings of unease etc of being in the same place. Then I left to go see Holland, the mitnadevet, in her new sem, and I went to a mussar lecture. Was really good - I realised I would've enjoyed sem way more if I hadn't gone anywhere Charedi. I 'chupped' it, if you will.
Tuesday - my mate from the moshav next door picked me up and we walked through the fields to the moshav - took 30 mins, but was such a lovely walk, had a rly nice time. Then she drove us to TLV and we got froyo.
1) this period covers 13 pages of the notebook in which I first jotted it all down (in note form)
2) NJ (New Jersey) and I spent a lot of time together - entirely alone, the only mitnadvim left - on the kibbutz and most likely completely and utterly lost it. Hence there are interesting sketches, plans and strange tales which to this day I don't understand the meaning of entirely,
3) there seems to be a lot of strange details and stories about goats, ADD and the social dynamic amongst the madrichim in the Beit Hacar, much of which will be lost on the reading audience. Strangely, these factors all seem to interplay a lot. For their esoteric and idiosyncratic (not to mention frightening) nature, they have been either omitted or highly edited.
Wednesday - Hungarian and the Frenchie left the kibbutz to go start their Ulpan - the latter thank g-d, the former I'll miss. So for the first time EVER, the kibbutz fell completely silent. Silent that is, but for the sound of NJ. Together we discussed the differences between ADD and ADHD. So now I know!
We also learnt a new word in Hebrew - מעמי' - 'mummy' - the equivalent of 'babes' or whatever. However I did not know this. I explained to the culprit uttering this that, in English, 'mummy' is not a term of sexual endearment, and if it is used as such, it's actually more fetishistic. Yeuurrgghh. Of course, these occasions are when language barriers are the most funnest!
Thursday - a group of young Charedi boys visited the Beit Hacar today. The first point at which I decided I loathed them intensely was when the banot sherut (the girls doing their national service - sherut leumi - at the zoo) and I were forbidden to enter the zoo while the boys were in there, as weren't tzniut enough, incase we corrupted the boys' neshamot, possinbly with a hint of eye contact, or a smidgen of elbow (the actual 'ervah' of the arm was covered entirely, you see, as were all our lady lumps and bumps, by our baggy 'madrich' tshirts).
This was the second occasion in which I've seen uber-Charedim being crap with animals - in Har Nof, it was a regular (and horrific) occurence to see stray cats being kicked by Charedi children, and even sometimes the men and women. Sick. Anyhoo, this time, I wanted to check that my animals were being treated nicely and well, so I snuck in to wash my hands (which were covered in varnish anyway). What i saw was like some crazy hallucination:
The thirty or so boys in the petting cage (where i work regularly) were picking up and throwing the dogs at each other, which was disgusting enough, but then one of the boys picked up a goat (!!!) and, dancing and trying to push it above his tiny pre-pubescent head, began singing a highly strained version of had gadya. This led the other boys to stop throwing the dogs aroiund,a dn join hiim in forming a circle, with the boy holding the goat in the centre.
I looked to his teachers, hoping they'd have the common sense and decency to stop him. Did they f***. The teachers joined in, leading the dancing and singing louder than their pupils!
Absolutely horrified by this, i left myself into the cage and sat in the second pen, where the dogs go to cool down. As soon as I got in there, all of the dogs flocked to me, most of them shaking. Then, all of goats and sheep - who usually ignore me or at least don;t flock over - came into the second pen aswell. There were about 30 animals sitting with me, trying to gte away from the evil boys on the other side of the fence.
Declaring the pen 'assur' (forbidden), the boys then settled for trying to throw stones through the links in the fence, while I shouted at them to stop and their teachers encouraged them to continue.
Disgusting.
I thought it couldn't get any worse. But, about an hour or so later, after the second group had goneI let all the animals back into the amin pen, and checked them over. Then I noticed that the dog with the little bronw face wasn;t there.
I looked everywhere - all around the pen, all around the zoo - but it wasn't anywhere. then I noticed that, in the main pen, the hole that she'd been digging for the past two weeks (and which she liked to sleep down during visitng hours) had been covered up.
I considered for five minutes whether or not I would be actually crazy enough to dig - with my bare hands, like a dog - the hole up again. Then, thinking, 'ah why not?' i did. It took about 4 minutes to dig up - it was a very deep hole - and as I was digging, more and more of the madrichim were coming around to look at what the 'mitnadevet meshugat' (crazy volunteer girl) was doing.
Then, I saw a little brown face emerge, looking terrified and covered in dirt. I thought I was going to be sick, I was so shocked. We don't know how long it had been down there, but we checked it over and it seemed alright after an hour or so.
Later I saw some of the charedi boys' group go up to the baby donkey in the pen and throw dust into it's face, just to see what would happen, and lauhging, then I shooed them away, and they took to throwing stones at the separated and very cartzioty doggies.
The best bit of the day was when, finally realising it was time to go, the headteacher spoke over the intercom saying how great the day had been, how much fin they'd all had, and what kiddush hashem's they'd all been. I was hiding in the office, and i couldn;t help but laugh out loud at his lack of self-awareness. I know I'm no angel, but at least i can recognise when I'm being hypocritical and ridiculous.
Friday - I went to Haifa, to visit Aussie girl for Shabbat in Yemin Orde. It was great to see her!
Shabbat - YO is gorgeous. Really clean and friendly.
We had a lovely dinner and lunch in the cheder ochel with the kids, then Aussie and I went to Nir Etzion - a moshav across from YO and went o the zoo there. We met a 13 year old English-French-Israeli Charedi boy, who we talked to or about 45 minutes and who was absolutely charming and a true kiddush hashem. It just goes to show that my experiences with the charedim in the zoo but a few days before might have been horrific, but that I shouldn't generalise all Charedi behaviour by that.
During Shabbat I had a realisation - THE penny-dropping moment - to put a long story short ( hereafter abbreviated to 'tpalss'), I don't know if i can return to London and be ...'happy'(?) there - I've never in my life reached such a nice state of calmness, happiness and centrality, focus and balance as I have had on this trip, and it made me realise that, everything I thought was so great in London, or at least settled for - the crappy (and in hindsight highly unsuitable) relationships; so-called 'modern Orthodoxy', London style; stuff at home and my general life plans up unto this point (MA; Teach First; Teaching; marriage, kids, live in London etc etc etc) - it;s really not so great, nor how I want to live my life.
I don't want to do another year of uni, doing all the same things I have been doing for three years, reading and writing excessively while trying to keep it all together and seeing the weeks fall by without doing anything practical or significant; I don't want to marry some clone from the ghetto, have kids and settle in Hendon/Golders, send the kids to JFS/Hasmo and get caught up in the claustrophobia of the community; I. Don't. Want. Everyone. In. My. Face. Telling. Me. What. To. Do. The. Whole. Bloody. Time, then getting upset and hurt when I want to do something that I - yes, I - want to do, which doesn't necessarily benefit everyone, but it does benefit me (I am NOT that clever, but at least I know this and don't have to struggle through an entire year of MA just to prove I have a brain by having another graduation picture on the wall). Because it;s my life and I bloody well want to lead it and shape it according to what is best for me, and what will be best. In short, the space my mother left for my MA and PhD graduations pics on her 'simcha wall' will probably lay bare for a few years yet.
In short, I believe a gap year in Israel - volunteering and generally doing whatever I want to do, alone and totally free, is way more beneficial to my overall everything than any MA, at least for the meantime. I've never felt anything so strongly in my life - not saying that I'll make Aliya after that year off, but if it happens now, then it happens now.
I wonder how my parents and grandparents will take it. Think I'll keep that bit of news - like the nosepiercing - to myself for a bit. I've never felt so happy or so apprehensive. What a fantastic epiphany!
Sunday - came back to kibbutz aftee my amazing, thought-provoking Shabbat with Aussie in YO. My mate from the zoo and I fed the baby cows, which made us really hungry and so we went to Burger Ranch. Then I went to the ever-lovely and welcoming P famille to discuss my new plan, just to check I wasn't losing it or being stupid. They thought it was great.
Monday - went to Jeru to discuss shizzle with Nefesh B'Nefesh. they were located in kanfei nesharim - just a stone's throw away from my old stomping ground. Even in my happy state, just getting on the same busses, one stop up, having a coffee in a cafe i used to frequent etc etc - fermented weird and horrible recollections and feelings of unease etc of being in the same place. Then I left to go see Holland, the mitnadevet, in her new sem, and I went to a mussar lecture. Was really good - I realised I would've enjoyed sem way more if I hadn't gone anywhere Charedi. I 'chupped' it, if you will.
Tuesday - my mate from the moshav next door picked me up and we walked through the fields to the moshav - took 30 mins, but was such a lovely walk, had a rly nice time. Then she drove us to TLV and we got froyo.
Wednesday 30 September 2009
Day Forty-Six
I went up to Yemin Orde for Shabbat – I think there's something that has clicked in me... I feel...different, in a good way.
Tuesday – the day started as any other – I got up, ate and ambled off to work. There was a new madrich in the zoo, one I’d never met before – ‘R’.
We went off to de-cartziot all the doggies – he speaks FA all English, so I really made an effort with the ole Hebrew. Anyhoo, the animals absolutely love him – they went nuts when the two of us approached their cages. I was like his pet the whole day: he’s been working there for 5 years, so obviously knows the ropes...so we ended up working together in the donkey and camel enclosure. My job was to get 5 kids (there were 6 groups of 30 kids visiting the zoo that day) onto the donkeys, then let the donkeys run up to the end of the enclosure and back, while I did that R took the camels around, and I got more kids on the donkeys, and let them run, etc etc.
So it transpires that I have little to no ability to control five rampaging and snack-hungry donkeys. Long story short, the donkeys would run up to the end of the enclosure, but never return. Every time. So R would go and chase them all back to me, then go and take the camels etc etc...thereby doing the job of one and a half people.
The Brit in me felt the need to apologise for this. Upon going up to him halfway trhought the third group of the day to apologise for my inability to complete the donkeys' run, he looked into my hot sweaty face and said [in Hebrew, 'there's no problem, don't worry, you're doing really well'
Amd then kissed me on the lips. In front of 30 relig girls from Beit Shemesh.
Now, in modern Israel,I'm guessing it;s not the standard protocol to wander up to coworkers - who you've only just met that morning - and give them a ful on smacker, particularly infront of a large group of kids, relig ones at that.
I gave it a bit of time, and got back on with my rather taxing work (I jate to admit it, but, being hihgly embarrased, I immediately succumbed to every English impulse there was, including a crazy amount of blushing). However later I decided to talk to R in private about what had happened earlier. I thanked him for all the help he gave me, and complimented him on his amazing ability to control animals and children (I thought I had animals locked down...turns out I'm horribly wrong) and then asked him what the F*@# he thought he was doing earlier. Did he not know I was datia? Was it the nosering? Was it my elbows on show? Was it my crazy 'seductress' eyes?
But then maybe I'm NOT datia, in contemporary Israeli thought - sure, I keep kosher and shabbat, and I was pretty much shoms til that incident... but I have a nosering, and I'm very chatty with the Israelis, boys and girls... maybe this is actually an indication of untzniut behaviour?
But no, simply put, the reply to my questions was, in broken English:
'I. Loooove. Yooou.'
Love? That was out of LOVE?!
I must say I was ...incensed. Love? What was this guy's problem, taking the piss...
Then I remembered that occasionally, some vocab doesn't translate so well. The Heb verb אהבה - Ahava - means both 'to like' AND 'to love' - there is no differentiation.
So, after a quick explanation - that 'love' is like weddings, bride and groom, for life etc etc, and 'like' is like girlfriend, boyfriend, a more immature form, I got the corrected version of the confession, and that was that. I explained that before doing that kind of stuff, one should really ask some form of permission (especially since I've never had a coldsore and I donlt want one, but I donlt know what they look like so even if someone had one I probably wouldn't be able to spot it) .
Everything returned to normal the next day at work, and another diplomatic incident had been averted.
Later, recovering from this incident, I was sitting down to write it all up outside the miklat when Frenchie joined me. I'm always nervous when these occasions arise, as Frenchie only has two modes of operation: 1. multiple personalities and 2. relentless argumentative idiot. Mostly these two modes are concurrent.
Frenchie also never drinks, mostly because it could potentially trigger off the evil/frightening/psychotic personalites. Here he was, polishing off a bottle of wine, which he invited me to join him in.
I can think of at least three things I'd prefer to do than drink with him. 1. Sit through a four-hour solicitors meeting while badly needing a wee; 2. Perform minor surgery on myself; 3. Entertain Cheryl Cole/Zac Efron/any footballer for an evening. The salient facts of the subsequent experience are these:
- Frenchie has a terrifying laugh when drunk
- He does not like to argue in French, but forgets parts of general English grammatical structure when drunk. So we switched back to French.
- He does not like me at all. And he likes to follow me around, telling me so. In fact, upon managing to escape him for the sixth time, I finally just sat and admitted defeat so that he could accomplish his aim. At least it made him happy.
- He does not understand Hebrew. Hungarian wandered over to see what all the commotion was about, and we communicated between ourselves in Hebrew, while he and I spoke in Ftench, and Hungarian-Frenchie spoke in English. It was amazing, in a strange way.
- He is psychotic and paranoid, often imagining or inventing things which people (not just me) are saying about him/the French/etc.
It was exhausting. Then New Jersey wandered in, highly bemused. So me, her and Hungary went for a lap around the kibbutz, leaving Frenchie (at last glance) beating up the birdcage in the tree.
When I got back from the walk, the birdcage was lying in small pieces on the ground.
Tuesday – the day started as any other – I got up, ate and ambled off to work. There was a new madrich in the zoo, one I’d never met before – ‘R’.
We went off to de-cartziot all the doggies – he speaks FA all English, so I really made an effort with the ole Hebrew. Anyhoo, the animals absolutely love him – they went nuts when the two of us approached their cages. I was like his pet the whole day: he’s been working there for 5 years, so obviously knows the ropes...so we ended up working together in the donkey and camel enclosure. My job was to get 5 kids (there were 6 groups of 30 kids visiting the zoo that day) onto the donkeys, then let the donkeys run up to the end of the enclosure and back, while I did that R took the camels around, and I got more kids on the donkeys, and let them run, etc etc.
So it transpires that I have little to no ability to control five rampaging and snack-hungry donkeys. Long story short, the donkeys would run up to the end of the enclosure, but never return. Every time. So R would go and chase them all back to me, then go and take the camels etc etc...thereby doing the job of one and a half people.
The Brit in me felt the need to apologise for this. Upon going up to him halfway trhought the third group of the day to apologise for my inability to complete the donkeys' run, he looked into my hot sweaty face and said [in Hebrew, 'there's no problem, don't worry, you're doing really well'
Amd then kissed me on the lips. In front of 30 relig girls from Beit Shemesh.
Now, in modern Israel,I'm guessing it;s not the standard protocol to wander up to coworkers - who you've only just met that morning - and give them a ful on smacker, particularly infront of a large group of kids, relig ones at that.
I gave it a bit of time, and got back on with my rather taxing work (I jate to admit it, but, being hihgly embarrased, I immediately succumbed to every English impulse there was, including a crazy amount of blushing). However later I decided to talk to R in private about what had happened earlier. I thanked him for all the help he gave me, and complimented him on his amazing ability to control animals and children (I thought I had animals locked down...turns out I'm horribly wrong) and then asked him what the F*@# he thought he was doing earlier. Did he not know I was datia? Was it the nosering? Was it my elbows on show? Was it my crazy 'seductress' eyes?
But then maybe I'm NOT datia, in contemporary Israeli thought - sure, I keep kosher and shabbat, and I was pretty much shoms til that incident... but I have a nosering, and I'm very chatty with the Israelis, boys and girls... maybe this is actually an indication of untzniut behaviour?
But no, simply put, the reply to my questions was, in broken English:
'I. Loooove. Yooou.'
Love? That was out of LOVE?!
I must say I was ...incensed. Love? What was this guy's problem, taking the piss...
Then I remembered that occasionally, some vocab doesn't translate so well. The Heb verb אהבה - Ahava - means both 'to like' AND 'to love' - there is no differentiation.
So, after a quick explanation - that 'love' is like weddings, bride and groom, for life etc etc, and 'like' is like girlfriend, boyfriend, a more immature form, I got the corrected version of the confession, and that was that. I explained that before doing that kind of stuff, one should really ask some form of permission (especially since I've never had a coldsore and I donlt want one, but I donlt know what they look like so even if someone had one I probably wouldn't be able to spot it) .
Everything returned to normal the next day at work, and another diplomatic incident had been averted.
Later, recovering from this incident, I was sitting down to write it all up outside the miklat when Frenchie joined me. I'm always nervous when these occasions arise, as Frenchie only has two modes of operation: 1. multiple personalities and 2. relentless argumentative idiot. Mostly these two modes are concurrent.
Frenchie also never drinks, mostly because it could potentially trigger off the evil/frightening/psychotic personalites. Here he was, polishing off a bottle of wine, which he invited me to join him in.
I can think of at least three things I'd prefer to do than drink with him. 1. Sit through a four-hour solicitors meeting while badly needing a wee; 2. Perform minor surgery on myself; 3. Entertain Cheryl Cole/Zac Efron/any footballer for an evening. The salient facts of the subsequent experience are these:
- Frenchie has a terrifying laugh when drunk
- He does not like to argue in French, but forgets parts of general English grammatical structure when drunk. So we switched back to French.
- He does not like me at all. And he likes to follow me around, telling me so. In fact, upon managing to escape him for the sixth time, I finally just sat and admitted defeat so that he could accomplish his aim. At least it made him happy.
- He does not understand Hebrew. Hungarian wandered over to see what all the commotion was about, and we communicated between ourselves in Hebrew, while he and I spoke in Ftench, and Hungarian-Frenchie spoke in English. It was amazing, in a strange way.
- He is psychotic and paranoid, often imagining or inventing things which people (not just me) are saying about him/the French/etc.
It was exhausting. Then New Jersey wandered in, highly bemused. So me, her and Hungary went for a lap around the kibbutz, leaving Frenchie (at last glance) beating up the birdcage in the tree.
When I got back from the walk, the birdcage was lying in small pieces on the ground.
Saturday 26 September 2009
Day Forty-Two
Wednesday - I began work in the Beit Hacar. It was really great – set with the doggies and goats until 5pm, then me, New Jersey, Aussie girl and Turkmenistan went to Petach Tikva with one of my mates from the farm, to meet the two Londoners for dinner. Then I had a well-earned early night.
Friday – not much, another day in the zoo/farm (in Hebrew, ‘zoo’ is, גן חיית literally the ‘garden of animals’. Farm is בית היכאר – ‘house of...something.’Farm?!). Before going to shul after lighting the Shabbat candles, Aussie girl, New Jersey and I, being the only mitnadvim left on the kibbutz, went completely crazy, breaking out in manic spontaneous dancing and laughter. It was fun and hilarious, but also a little terrifying.
Shabbat – got up late, like 9.30am or so, then the three of us had lunch together which was really nice. After a 3 hour nap, we met again to do some sunbathing on top of the miklat.
Monday – Hungarian returned to kibbutz from his few days excursion to Hungary, and so he and I had a lovely picnic together in the maodon, and then we spoke for like 3 hours. He gave me the lowdown on what the boys were all saying behind closed doors, and it was slightly surprising. Some of it was like a big, slightly sick joke, other bits were hilarious. Then me, him and New Jersey went for a walk around the kibbutz, then sat by the miklat and talked for some more, before I retired - knackered off my face – to bed.
Friday – not much, another day in the zoo/farm (in Hebrew, ‘zoo’ is, גן חיית literally the ‘garden of animals’. Farm is בית היכאר – ‘house of...something.’Farm?!). Before going to shul after lighting the Shabbat candles, Aussie girl, New Jersey and I, being the only mitnadvim left on the kibbutz, went completely crazy, breaking out in manic spontaneous dancing and laughter. It was fun and hilarious, but also a little terrifying.
Shabbat – got up late, like 9.30am or so, then the three of us had lunch together which was really nice. After a 3 hour nap, we met again to do some sunbathing on top of the miklat.
Monday – Hungarian returned to kibbutz from his few days excursion to Hungary, and so he and I had a lovely picnic together in the maodon, and then we spoke for like 3 hours. He gave me the lowdown on what the boys were all saying behind closed doors, and it was slightly surprising. Some of it was like a big, slightly sick joke, other bits were hilarious. Then me, him and New Jersey went for a walk around the kibbutz, then sat by the miklat and talked for some more, before I retired - knackered off my face – to bed.
Day Thirty-Nine
Outside the miklat. A
consolidation of the past ten days –
Thursday – Aussie came
back to the kibbutz!!! The night after my crazy knee-jerk attempt to get to
Lod, he came bearing the gift of Power Espresso Vodka, and then we collapsed
ontop of the miklat. It was also the last day of two of the London girls on the
kibbutz. I’ll miss them too. Then, the next day, Aussie went back to Lod. I
think I might have died a little inside, but that is just as likely the
hangover and sleep deprivation.
Sunday – got up v early
(after getting in at 4am) to go and meet Aussie guy in Haifa, as he is on
hofesh, so I was allowed to take three days off too, so we could go travelling.
The bus journey up was
ok, although I took a downturn when I was suddenly awoken from my nap to
realise we’d already pulled into Haifa tachana merkazit, and that all the other
passengers had already left the bus. Screaming, ‘nahag, nahag, arête
bavakasha!’ (‘driver, driver, stop [French] please!) the driver did an
emergency stop and I fell off the back seat, breaking my fall with my arm and
mashing my legs into the aisle. Oww. Still, at least it proved my reflexes were
quick – it could’ve been worse: I could’ve broken my neck or something!
We met at the Bahai
gardens but, due to various cock-ups between us, arrived 4 minutes late for the
guided tour and so didn't properly see the gardens. We had a quick walk around
– they were beautiful – the headed for the cablecars down (in Hebrish, ‘Cablecars’)
whereupon I remembered I have an extreme dislike of heights, and an intense
fear of cablecars in particular. Then we went to Eliyahu HaNavi’s cave, where
he was supposed to have stopped off and rested before his encounter with the
prophets of Baal (Nach – I think Melachim?) Then we went for a walk, and met
with Aussie guy’s mates from the Home Country.
I tried, I really did, to
get past their accents. And I did, for the most part, until one of his friends,
ordering something, said, ‘look at me’, but it sounded highly reminiscent of a
Kath and Kim saying – ‘look at mooooooy!’ so I had a bit of a snigger.
Knackered, I left Haifa
and got the bus back to Kibbutz.
Monday – another early
start, to meet Aussie in Jeru. We went to the shuk, then caught a bus and
walked around the Hebrew U campus for ever, looking in vain for the fabled
‘Museum on the Seam’. After an hour, we still hadn’t found it, which upset me
because I thought I’d finally get to see it, on this trip. Alas.
From there, we took a bus to the Old City, where we
went to the ‘Tower of David’ museum, which I’ve always always always wanted to
go to, and have walked past a million times without doing so. It was
BRILLIANT. It was more a history of Jerusalem
– from the first stone being laid until the end of the British Empire, and the
establishment of the Medinat Yisrael. Totally worth the 30 shek ticket price!
From there, we met with Holland, Aussie girl and Frenchie, and one of my mates
from London. We had a Bonkers Bagel –
Holland’s first ever bagel – and went to the Kotel.
After I’d had a bit of a daven., I went to sit down
on the wall at the back of the Kotel enclosure with my friend. We were sitting
and chatting etc...and I was idly looking around, taking in the splendour of
the Kotel itself, when I saw a man, strangely dressed, walk by with a woman.
Could Noel Fielding really be at the Kotel? Surely not, I thought.
I decided to walk along behind the man for a bit, and see if he spoke. Then
if it wasn’t him, I’d drop back and life would continue as normal. I didn't
plan for what might happen if it was him.
It was him.
I can’t remember the encounter entirely, due to the massive adrenaline rush
at the time, but I remembered I did not have a camera, so I ran (in the Kotel
enclosure!!) back to Holland, to schlep her over to take loadsa photos of me
and him. It turned out his friend – the woman next to him – was Jewish and
invited him to Israel for a bit, and hence he was here. How awesome. We were
talking for about ten minutes, and I told him I’d been trying again and again
to bring The Boosh to the Australians – indeed, my impressions of Old Greg,
particularly when anyone mentioned Baileys, often left them looking puzzled and
concerned for my general mental health. I even nearly got invited to go drinking
with him in Tel Aviv on Shabbat!!
Then, buzzing, we went to Mamilla, before I met up
with an old friend for a pancake – was really great to see him! – and then we
all went back to the kibbutz.
Thursday – Aussie and I
decided not to schlep to Ein Gedi, so we went to Yafo instead. The markets
weren’t as interesting as I remembered, but I still had a really nice time. I
randomly bought a drum, for reasons only
partly known to myself, other than I’ve always really wanted one, and Aussie
guy – bless – schlepped it for me, the whole day. Then we walked from Yafo to
Tel Aviv, and had a Burger King. We also
went to the Azrielli center, as one of my mates from London said he’d meet us
there. Two hours later, and no progress on this, we called it a day and went
home.
Hat was the first night
the kibbutz stopped providing food for the mitnadvim at dinner, so we had pizza
out. It was surprisingly very good.
Day Twenty-Nine. Rosh Chodesh.
In a continuation of the last entry, for reasons I’ll get onto in a minute.
I can’t really remember Monday, but I’m sure something significant happened. Maybe it was that Holland, Aussie guy and I fed the baby cows, and got a tour from Hull guy around the Refet. The feeding was quite surreal, as all but one cow was lined up to be sold for veal. It was as if I was playing with my food before I ate it.
On Tuesday, I had my Teach First Brand Manager interview over the phone. I sat in the hammock (I have mastered those nicely) by the פילול. The conversation was entirely straightforward and professional, but it struck a certain bizarre sensation in me – I was looking around the kibbutz, talking to two people who would probably never ever fully understand the experiences I was having, and the motivations behind them. It really brought out the dichotomy I feel in being primarily Jewish in England, yet primarily English in Israel. In that 45 minute conversation, I think I must have decided that the latter was better. As such, I’m 90% certain that Aliya is on the cards. Sooner maybe than I thought initially.
On Monday night, Aussie guy and girl, me and Holland also made Jello shots, which were absolutely vile. Then, with Aussie guy’s new video camera, we attempted to make a ‘wildlife documentary’ about Boston guy. However, wishing to catch him unawares, he was remarkably difficult to catch footage of. So we switched our focus to New York guy, attempting to seduce him. Starring – who else? – me as the seductress.
As it happens, when presented with an object of seduction, I’m pretty much – if not entirely, completely – useless. This is because, Aussie guy believes, I’m crap at flirting, recognising intent and interest, and become cripplingly shy (really) when interest is declared. However, New York was, bless him, almost entirely bewildered by the encounter as I was uncomfortable – from his perspective, I’m guessing, this must have al come as quite an abrupt shock – we’d hung out loads one on one, without anything happening, and then suddenly this awkward encounter! We had spent extensive time making it known that I was slightly drunk (which I wasn’t at all), and so he seemed hesitant and pensive on taking up my generous offer.
And thank G-d – because if he’d made a move on me, down in the secluded environs of the underground miklat, he is freakishly strong, I’ve discovered. Last night, he tackled both me to the ground, winding me at one point by punching me in the stomach til I couldn’t breathe, and bouncing my head off the ground. Later, after I’d regained a bit of strength, he pinned Aussie girl to the floor, at which point I launched myself onto his back, and seconds later both me and Aussie girl were pinned to the ground, on our backs. As such, I could’ve ended up in a very bad situation, had he not been so confused by this sudden change of events. At least the video of the encounter was hilariously funny.
Then, the next day, as New York struggled to talk about what had almost happened between us to someone, he unfortunately picked all the wrong people – the Australians, who were in on it – and we all pretended nothing had happened, and he’d clearly just imagined everything. So, as he internally questioned the ethics of no-strings attached drunken flings between mitnadvim, we all looked at him like he’d finally lost it, having been on the kibbutz for 3 months or so.
On Tuesday night, the Australians and I discovered a new drink which we hadn’t yet tried – ‘Power Espresso Vodka’. Coffee liqueur – strong one, at that – with equally strong vodka. The salient facts are these – it gets you off your face, but also keeps you awake for quite a long time! Therefore, one can be completely plastered AND awake, something I haven’t experienced in a very, very long time. It was AWESOME. The next day, possibly due to the amount of drinking I’ve been doing/sleeping regularly on the miklat/being beaten up a lot, I took the day off. After lunch, Aussie guy and I went to Tel-Aviv to meet with one of my friends from London. We had a coffee, went to Shuk HaCarmel, then met with my friend. It was really nice to see her – a really nice day in all. Then last night, Aussie left.
After writing that semi-entry, and bingeeating so much that I felt really sick, I went slightly nuts. Aussie phoned me, I think possibly having epic withdrawals from suddenly not spending time together, and said there were still, at this late hour, sheruts to Lod. So, having had very little sleep and evidently acting on some kind of crazy impulse, I ran to the bus stop. However, after the adrenaline rush died, two minutes later, I realised two things – 1. There is FA to do in Lod, and 2. I would have no way of getting back to the kibbutz. So I returned to the kibbutz. Still, at least I had a nice walk before bed.
Today is Rosh Chodesh, so today in the Cheder Ochel there are chocolatey beverages alongside the coffee machine. I sampled two of them – we all did – and this is probably why I feel so sick right now.
It’s weird, I really do miss Aussie. I really didn't think I would get so attached to the people here, so this has taken me by surprise somewhat.
I can’t really remember Monday, but I’m sure something significant happened. Maybe it was that Holland, Aussie guy and I fed the baby cows, and got a tour from Hull guy around the Refet. The feeding was quite surreal, as all but one cow was lined up to be sold for veal. It was as if I was playing with my food before I ate it.
On Tuesday, I had my Teach First Brand Manager interview over the phone. I sat in the hammock (I have mastered those nicely) by the פילול. The conversation was entirely straightforward and professional, but it struck a certain bizarre sensation in me – I was looking around the kibbutz, talking to two people who would probably never ever fully understand the experiences I was having, and the motivations behind them. It really brought out the dichotomy I feel in being primarily Jewish in England, yet primarily English in Israel. In that 45 minute conversation, I think I must have decided that the latter was better. As such, I’m 90% certain that Aliya is on the cards. Sooner maybe than I thought initially.
On Monday night, Aussie guy and girl, me and Holland also made Jello shots, which were absolutely vile. Then, with Aussie guy’s new video camera, we attempted to make a ‘wildlife documentary’ about Boston guy. However, wishing to catch him unawares, he was remarkably difficult to catch footage of. So we switched our focus to New York guy, attempting to seduce him. Starring – who else? – me as the seductress.
As it happens, when presented with an object of seduction, I’m pretty much – if not entirely, completely – useless. This is because, Aussie guy believes, I’m crap at flirting, recognising intent and interest, and become cripplingly shy (really) when interest is declared. However, New York was, bless him, almost entirely bewildered by the encounter as I was uncomfortable – from his perspective, I’m guessing, this must have al come as quite an abrupt shock – we’d hung out loads one on one, without anything happening, and then suddenly this awkward encounter! We had spent extensive time making it known that I was slightly drunk (which I wasn’t at all), and so he seemed hesitant and pensive on taking up my generous offer.
And thank G-d – because if he’d made a move on me, down in the secluded environs of the underground miklat, he is freakishly strong, I’ve discovered. Last night, he tackled both me to the ground, winding me at one point by punching me in the stomach til I couldn’t breathe, and bouncing my head off the ground. Later, after I’d regained a bit of strength, he pinned Aussie girl to the floor, at which point I launched myself onto his back, and seconds later both me and Aussie girl were pinned to the ground, on our backs. As such, I could’ve ended up in a very bad situation, had he not been so confused by this sudden change of events. At least the video of the encounter was hilariously funny.
Then, the next day, as New York struggled to talk about what had almost happened between us to someone, he unfortunately picked all the wrong people – the Australians, who were in on it – and we all pretended nothing had happened, and he’d clearly just imagined everything. So, as he internally questioned the ethics of no-strings attached drunken flings between mitnadvim, we all looked at him like he’d finally lost it, having been on the kibbutz for 3 months or so.
On Tuesday night, the Australians and I discovered a new drink which we hadn’t yet tried – ‘Power Espresso Vodka’. Coffee liqueur – strong one, at that – with equally strong vodka. The salient facts are these – it gets you off your face, but also keeps you awake for quite a long time! Therefore, one can be completely plastered AND awake, something I haven’t experienced in a very, very long time. It was AWESOME. The next day, possibly due to the amount of drinking I’ve been doing/sleeping regularly on the miklat/being beaten up a lot, I took the day off. After lunch, Aussie guy and I went to Tel-Aviv to meet with one of my friends from London. We had a coffee, went to Shuk HaCarmel, then met with my friend. It was really nice to see her – a really nice day in all. Then last night, Aussie left.
After writing that semi-entry, and bingeeating so much that I felt really sick, I went slightly nuts. Aussie phoned me, I think possibly having epic withdrawals from suddenly not spending time together, and said there were still, at this late hour, sheruts to Lod. So, having had very little sleep and evidently acting on some kind of crazy impulse, I ran to the bus stop. However, after the adrenaline rush died, two minutes later, I realised two things – 1. There is FA to do in Lod, and 2. I would have no way of getting back to the kibbutz. So I returned to the kibbutz. Still, at least I had a nice walk before bed.
Today is Rosh Chodesh, so today in the Cheder Ochel there are chocolatey beverages alongside the coffee machine. I sampled two of them – we all did – and this is probably why I feel so sick right now.
It’s weird, I really do miss Aussie. I really didn't think I would get so attached to the people here, so this has taken me by surprise somewhat.
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